“Why not?”
She threw up a hand. “I do not know. They just did not ‘hit it off,’ as you Americans say.”
“You have an example you can share with me?”
Her brows furrowed. Archer could see her translating his request in her head and deciding on an appropriate reply.
“We had a party at our house, this was about a year ago, you see. We invited people from Malibu, LA, you know. A nice, interesting group.”
“And did you invite Lamb?”
“Of course. I mean, she lived right next to us, and I knew her from before, as I said. It would have been rude not to. We even invited the old woman, though she did not come.”
“Mrs. Danforth?”
“Yes. But Eleanor did come. I welcomed her. We spoke of old times in Washington. She seemed, oh, I don’t know, far more casual than usual. She actually seemed to be having a good time. But later I saw her and Peter having, what you would call, words.”
“Did you hear any of what they were saying?”
“No. Only that Peter was very angry and Eleanor was very cool and calm. Just like her father was. He was a very good diplomat, my papa used to say. When they saw me watching they smiled and went their separate ways.”
“Did you ask him later what had happened?”
“Yes. He said it was a difference of opinion over some property line disagreement.”
“Did you believe him?”
She stubbed out her cigarette. “Do I look like an imbecile, Mr. Archer?”
“Quite the contrary. But do you think there was any hankypanky between them?”
“Are you an imbecile?” she exclaimed. “You have seen me. And I presume you have seen Eleanor. As a man, do you think there is difficulty in choosing between us?”
“I guess not.”
“Précisément,” she said, giving him an incredulous look.
“What happened at the party after that?” asked Archer.
“Eleanor left shortly afterward. She even thanked me for a lovely time. She always managed to land on her feet. And I think that she got the better of Peter in whatever they were discussing.” She added, “I understand that she is a very good writer of films.”
“Who’d you hear that from, Bart Green?” asked Archer.
“Why do you mention him?”
“Because Lamb works for his production company.” Archer left unspoken, And Bart’s wife thinks you’re bed-hopping with her hubby.
“Yes, I think I knew that.”
“So you know the Greens?”
“Yes. Peter introduced me to them some time ago. Bart Green is very successful in making movies, yes?”
“Yes. How did your husband and Bart Green meet?”
“In some business dealings. My husband has many interests.”
“Where’d you meet your husband?”
She looked more animated now. “As I said, my family had moved back to France before the war began. Then, afterward, we were forced to flee to Canada. We knew it was only a matter of time before the disgusting Nazis conquered our homeland. My papa was very outspoken about Hitler. We had to flee or we would have been killed! But after the war was over, we moved back to France and were living in Paris. Shortly afterward, I met Peter there and we were married in Nice. Then we came here. Peter had the house in Malibu already, you see. He bought it when he was no longer married... He was a...?”
“Bachelor?”
“Précisément.”
“Wait a minute. So he was married before?” This didn’t jibe with what Danforth had told him.
“Yes. But he does not speak of that time in his life. His first wife died. I know nothing more. And I do not care to know more.”
“He’s from California, then?”
“I... I’m not sure. But he has business here.”
“You mentioned that. What sort of business? With Bart Green?”
“Oh, a great many things. But you see he is much older than me. He is over fifty now. But still very handsome. And he is very cultured and knows how to treat a Frenchwoman just so, and it is not an easy thing to do, n’est-ce pas?”
“Yeah. I tried and failed at that a few times during the war.”
Her big green eyes managed to widen even more. She looked intrigued and even graced him with an amused smile. “Yes? You did this?”
“Oh, yes. Very poorly, and the ladies let me know it. So a great many businesses. Like what?”
“This and that. I have no head for it, and no interest. It provides a wonderful living for us. That is what interests me,” she said candidly.
He looked over her expensive clothes. “I’m sure.”
“So, thank you for the coffee but I have to—”
He cut in, deciding to go on the offensive now. “Look, I can drive you out to your house and then I could talk to your husband. He might have some idea where Lamb is.”
She looked alarmed by this proposal. “I do not think that is likely. As I said, he did not care for her.”
“But still, he might have seen something. I mean, he would have been there right when it all happened with the dead man and Lamb going missing.” He looked across at her as she sat there in her fine clothes with her intriguing French accent, and he wondered if she had been enjoying trying to play him for a sucker before he landed this counterpunch.
She seemed to think quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly. “I... I don’t believe he was there that night.”
She had made it all too easy to land the knockout blow.
“I don’t believe I mentioned the night it happened.”
She took a few moments to light up a fresh Gaulois and give herself time to think of a response, Archer knew.
“I... I actually will not be going straight home, so I will have no need of your assistance. But thank you.”
“Just trying to be friendly.”
“Yes, you are too kind, Mr. Archer,” she said curtly.
“Just so you know, the county cops will probably be by to talk to you and your husband, now that you’re home.”
She looked alarmed once more. “But why would they do that?”
“A murder happened right next door. They’ve already talked to Danforth. They tried your place but you weren’t home. I guess your husband stayed somewhere else on New Year’s Eve, because he didn’t answer their knock the next day.”
“Yes, yes, he must have,” she said quickly.
“Do you know where that might be?”
“No, I suppose a hotel.”
“But you have such a swell place in Malibu.”
“He might have had business.”
“Is business the reason he came back here and didn’t celebrate the New Year with you in Paris? It’s probably a lot more romantic than Malibu.”
She looked up at him, all manner of friendliness struck clean from her. “You ask a great many questions, Mr. Archer.”
“I know. It goes with the job, and I like to do my job well.”
“I think I will be leaving now.”
“I thought you might.”
“I need to powder my nose.”
“I’ll watch your bag.”
When she got back there was no fresh powder on her nose. That had just been an excuse, and the woman was sloppy with details, it seemed. He wondered who Bonham had called while she’d been gone.
He carried her suitcase and walked her to the cabstand. He left her there after giving her his card and asking her to tell her husband to leave a message at that number.
“I will tell him about our conversation as soon as I see him,” she promised.
I’m sure you will, thought Archer.
By the time she got into her cab he was in the Delahaye and took up the chase.