By Cara Black
The village-like local of Passy, domestic to a lot of Paris’s wealthiest citizens, is the final position one might anticipate a homicide. but if Aimée Leduc’s godfather, Morbier, a police commissaire, asks her to ascertain on his female friend at her domestic there, that’s precisely what Aimée unearths. Xavierre, a haut bourgeois matron of Basque beginning, is strangled in her backyard whereas Aimée waits inside of. Circumstantial proof makes Morbier the major suspect, and to vindicate him, Aimée needs to determine the true killer. Her research leads her to police corruption; the unconventional Basque terrorist team, ETA; and a abducted Spanish princess.
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Additional resources for Murder in Passy: An Aimee Leduc Investigation Set in Paris
Miles Davis pawed at them. ” She picked them up. A dark brown-maroon blotch stained the candy-red insole. Ruined. She’d never get the blood out. And then it struck her, piercing the fog of tiredness in her mind: she was holding the proof right in her hand. The killer’s blood. Her spine stiffened. She took a plastic baggie from the hall escritoire drawer, slipping her high heels inside. “They go straight to the lab in the morning. ” Tuesday Morning MORBIER’S TOBACCO-STAINED FINGERS trembled as he lit his second Gauloise.
With all forces concentrating on the murder of one of their own, she realized, Xavierre’s murderer could slip under their radar. Through the open door in the rear office, she saw a blue-uniformed flic pull a fax from the printer. ” “I’ll ring you later,” she said. ” Aimée snapped her bag shut. Thesset disappeared into the office. ” Then the door closed. * * * ETA, THE BASQUE Nationalists. Xavierre was Basque. Was there a connection? Had that worried Morbier? The street lay quiet, apart from water rushing in the gutter.
René,” she whispered. “What now? ” He let the gate shut. His gaze traveled the penlight’s beam, which traced a reddish-brown trail of droplets over the gravel path along the ivy-covered wall. ” René shook his head. “It’s late. ” From behind the house, Aimée heard a car start. The rumble of a diesel engine, the spit of gravel as it took off. She tiptoed ahead, rounded the corner, crouched under the windows. Shadows flickered. She saw movement inside the house. ” René stood behind her next to green garbage bins by the short flight of back steps.