‘Oh, yes.’ He sounded curious. ‘What gems did the frogs share?’
Charlie took a deep breath. ‘I showed them the ransom note.’
‘And?’ He waved his hands like a frustrated conductor. ‘What did you get in return?’
‘A phone call this morning from the inspecteur. It appears that two hundred US dollars of Maisy’s traveller’s cheques have been cashed. The police are finally investigating.’
George rolled his eyes. ‘Well, if the police areinvestigating…’
Charlie sighed. ‘We made a deal. Inspecteur Bernard said he’d give me the traveller’s cheques if I kept the details of today’s ransom exchange out of the paper. We agreed on the bare facts yesterday. I’ll share what I have with the Metro Police and they will let me tag along to the exchange.’ Charlie was stretching the truth here, but there was no way George would let her cover the ransom drop otherwise.
‘Two hundred dollars’ worth of traveller’s cheques cashed. Any idea where?’
Charlie transferred the clipboard to the other arm, pulled out her notebook and read, ‘French Bureau de Tourisme.’
‘Easy mark,’ said George.
‘A handbag shop near L’Opéra, a candle shop and perfumery on Champs de Mars and two banks. Both French. Small amounts. Presumably so they wouldn’t examine the US cheques and signatures.’
‘Have the police got any theories?’
‘Well, this has shaken them into action. All the traveller’s cheques are presumed forged—nothing like Maisy Bell’s signature, according to the aunt and uncle. They’ve provided samples to police to cross-check the handwriting against, but that will take time.’
George grunted. ‘Yougot any theories?’
‘Apart from the obvious one, that Maisy Bell’s super-rich and was abducted for money?’
‘That’s precisely what I mean. Sometimes, James, if it walks like a duck and sounds like a duck, the obvious explanations play out …’
‘I’m aware.’
George’s eyes narrowed as he scratched his beard. ‘What about the aunt? It’s often the people closest—’
‘Of course. I thought of that. She downplayed her link with Lady Ashworth.’
George rolled his eyes. ‘She wouldn’t be Robinson Crusoe. The esteemed Lady Ashworth has a pretty slippery and varied contact book. Not to mention a habit of people close to her dropping off the perch in unusual circumstances.’
‘Noted. Circumstantial evidence at best,’ said Charlie, who did not want to rehash stories she had already put to bed. ‘I just haven’t got a full read on Clementine Bell. On the one hand, she seems wholesome and maternal—the doting aunt. Almost a pseudo mother figure, dropping Maisy to and from college, joining her on the graduation trip to Paris.’
‘Was that love or duty?’
‘She seemed pretty broken to me.’
‘As she should be, losing a kid in Paris,’ chided George.
‘Woman!’ Charlie corrected. ‘And Clementine didn’tloseMaisy. By all accounts, Maisy went to visit Louis’s villa. Apparently, it’s in one of the villages near Château de Malmaison—Josephine’s home. I looked it up on a map, it’s definitely near Saint-Cloud. Violet said there was a waiter in Saint-Cloud who allegedly spotted Maisy near a terrace.’
‘Sounds like you might have to take a trip to the country.’
Charlie shook her head. ‘The Saint-Cloud region is huge. There must be hundreds of old villas in those villages—it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Do you expect me to go door to door? That could take months.’
‘You’re right. That’s a job for the police. I’ll call my contact at the Met and see if they have anyone onto it. I suspect they’ll say it is out of their remit.’
‘Well, we’ve got the ransom exchange at midday. Maybe it will all be over?’
‘With that note? Did that seem realistic to you? I smell a rat, James. Even so, get to the exchange, but for God’s sake,do notcross the police barriers. Do what they tell you. I presume Inspecteur Bernard will be there?’
‘Yes!’