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Chapter 08 - "Table Talk"

When they entered the dining room that evening, only Laurent was present. He greeted them with a smile, but his manner was cooler than it had been previously and Madame's empty chair stood like a rebuke. Alex asked politely after her health, and Laurent simply nodded and said that his mother was exhausted from the funeral events and was having supper in her room.

"Since the will reading will not occur for another two days," he added perfunctorily, "we wish to make the remainder of your stay enjoyable. I will be happy to take you to any location you wish, the Louvre, Versailles—or perhaps something further out, such as a winery?"

Alex took her seat with a polite smile. "That's very kind, Laurent. Thank you. If you could list some of our options we will choose from them, but at the same time, please don't go out of your way. You're also in mourning for your father. It would be fine if one of the staff dropped us off at a location and then came to pick us up later. I'm sure Bobby will want to see the Louvre, as will I."

As the server offered slices of roast beef, creamed potatoes, and broccoli in créme fraîche and grated Gruyère, Bobby asked, "May we take Mignon with us? We'd like to lift her spirits a little before she returns to school."

Laurent regarded him with a frown, then set down his utensils. "Monsieur Goren, Madame Goren, what is your interest in this child?"

Alex fixed eyes on him as she speared a potato with her fork, nettled by the question. "She's a small child who has lost her parents. Bobby and I work with children weekly—we'd just like to keep her happy and busy while we're here. Except for yourself, she doesn't seem to have any friends here in Paris the way she does at school."

Laurent responded with a shrug, "Mignon has always primarily been accompanied by her mother. It bothered Papá that Mignon had no little friends here in Paris. Her mother would not allow her to go to her school friends' homes unaccompanied, so they rarely came to visit her. It's why she was finally sent away to school, and it took a month for them to decide on one. Nor does Mignon stay here often. Papá saw her primarily when he visited Miss Wallace's accommodations."

Bobby shifted his attention to him immediately, and Laurent shook his head. "Do you think we did not know her real name? We do, Monsieur Goren, and also what she tried to do to us."

It was Alex's turn to look puzzled. "What...Nicole tried to do to you?"

"Does she not know?" Laurent asked Bobby, who had his head tucked down, his eyes fixed on his plate.

Alex said calmly, "I was told Nicole was arrested in Paris for trying to harm South Korean diplomats."

"That was the story given to the newspapers. It was never proven, but it was highly suspected that she was trying to kill Maman and myself."

"It was never proven," Bobby repeated equably, but Alex could see he was on the defensive.

"So you do not believe she could do it?"

Bobby was quiet far longer than was comfortable. "I believe that back then...she was capable of doing so. But I also believe that she changed after Mignon's birth."

"And that gives her, as you say, 'a pass'?" Laurent appeared slightly irritated.

"No," Bobby said finally, putting his fork down. "Not for that, or for my brother." And then he met Laurent's eyes again. "But that is Nicole's sin, not Mignon's."

And with that he excused himself and left his dinner unfinished as he strode from the room without another word.

Alex watched him leave with an inaudible sigh, continuing to eat her own meal. Laurent ventured, "I suspect I have hit a nerve? Miss Wallace...harmed your brother-in-law?"

"My late brother-in-law. He was one of Nicole's victims. Bobby has no reason to love Nicole, and doesn't excuse her, but he also considers her past. She was abused by her father from the age of three. As an abused child himself, Bobby takes her ordeal into account." She looked at him steadily, her words forthright. "In any case, this discussion was about Mignon, not her mother. I don't believe in your 'traditional' customs, Laurent. If I had been your mother, especially with the Duplantier name behind me, I would have walked out on your father the moment he consorted with another woman. But there must be something in their marriage for her to have continued to ignore the situation for so long. Perhaps it was love, perhaps something else. But Mignon doesn't deserve to suffer for her father's transgressions. Your mother could take that into account."

"Perhaps," Laurent said dryly, resuming his own meal, "if she had looked more like Papá and less like Madeleine..."

Alex asked curiously, "So what will happen with Mignon now?"

. . . . .

He was seated in one of the armchairs, reading his Kindle, when she returned from dinner, and he met her eyes, then looked away. "I'm sorry, Alex, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'll apologize to Laurent at breakfast tomorrow, first thing. I–"

Alex had her arms crossed in front of her, her mouth set in a straight line. He sighed, then set the Kindle on the arm of the chair and rose. He was still in the clothing he had worn to dinner.

"What the hell was that, Bobby? I felt like an ass, not knowing the full story about Nicole."

"It shouldn't have even come up. We were talking about Mignon. Alex, it was ten years ago. She was out of both of our lives; you were in the city and I was in Albany, and there was no reason to bring it up. I had Nicole's files sent to St.-Clair, then pushed the entire matter to the back of my mind. I wanted her out of my head. Every year or so, I'd get a note from him about 'the child.' I remember being surprised when St.-Clair told me she was already six and apparently thriving. He left the Police Nationale soon after that. The very next time I dredged Nicole from my brain was right before you moved in, when Penelope told me there was credible intelligence that she'd returned to the U.S. You were on the phone when she confirmed it." He paused. "And St.-Clair never proved that Nicole was after Pepin's family."

"You make excuses for her–" Alex objected.

"Not for anything she'd done before Mignon's birth!" was his grim retort. "She was guilty then and she'd still be guilty now. But she did change. Mignon's the proof. When I spoke to her about Gwen Chapel, she said that with Gwen she would be healed...'it will be all right...' she said to me, and I told her she was wrong, that she'd never-" He bit his lip. "Was I wrong? I'll always wonder...if I hadn't taunted her, would Frank still be alive?" He dropped down to the side of the bed, head propped on his hand, regarding her with tired eyes.

Alex closed her eyes for a moment, then said patiently, "No, he wouldn't. Narcotics Anonymous meetings in the afternoon and dope at night? Frank was doing very well killing himself without Nicole's help. You couldn't 'fix' him, Bobby, and he refused to do it himself, not for you, not for your mother, not even for his own son. He would have broken your heart no matter what you did."

She concluded with a sigh. "As for Nicole, you did what you had to do. You got her away from the innocent." For a moment she paused, looking into his eyes. "I'm sorry, too. I should have realized those accident photos would be a trigger and known that you'd be upset."

Now she proffered the square bundle in her hand, something wrapped in a cloth napkin, and he looked at it, perplexed. "I made you a sandwich," she explained, and indeed she had taken two slices of the wholemeal bread served with dinner and put several slices of roast beef between them. "So now Laurent thinks I'm a mad American, too."

"I am truly sorry, Alex. Thank you." He took the bundle, stood up, stepped forward to kiss her forehead, then unwrapped the sandwich with a grateful look, crossing to the blanket chest at the foot of the bed and settling there. "Crazy Bob Goren on one of his fits," he said tiredly, before his first bite.

She sat next to him. "We talked about 'crazy,' Bobby, a long time ago."

"All right," he said between mouthfuls, "Socially inept."

She rubbed at her nose, voice remaining steely. "Nope. No getting off on that, either. I've seen you charm suspects who later didn't know what hit them. You did it to Madame during our first breakfast. No excuse, although I did explain very sketchily to Laurent about your childhood."

He gave her a wry look and ate a few more bites of the sandwich. "All right. I was being an ass."

"Well, Alex restrained herself from being an ass," she said dryly. "I asked Laurent about Mignon's future instead."

Bobby immediately stopped eating. "He knows, I'm sure, what's in his father's will."

Alex nodded. "Once the will is read, Mignon returns to school. For 'holidays,' as he called it, she'll live here, although during the summer there is a provision for her to go to any type of educational camp she prefers—she went to a literary camp last year. During the times she will be here, her nanny will care for her, and she will have free use of the stables, and will be transported to the park, museums, etc. by one of the house chauffeurs."

He looked thoughtful. "Luisa has helped raise her since she was a baby. I remember her teasing Luisa about her Candy Crush habit in DC, but I think she's genuinely fond of her. It won't be her mother, but it will be with someone she knows."

"Well...maybe..." Alex said reluctantly.

Now he gave her a questioning, concerned look. "What?"

"Laurent told me that Luisa's sister, who lives in 'the Brabant,' whatever that is, with her husband, had a baby boy about six months ago, and soon afterward began having what was described as 'motor problems.' The sister is being tested for multiple sclerosis. If she does have MS, Luisa will probably choose to leave to help her sister with the child and Laurent will have to find a new nanny and/or governess. Then Mignon would truly have no familiar faces left, except for Laurent, when he isn't working, or squiring prospective brides, or being at Madame's beck and call." She paused. "He did promise me that he would make certain she wasn't totally alone, but I wonder just how long that will last when a new Mrs. Pepin joins the family."

"Damn." Bobby put the sandwich down, his appetite lost. "So you're still in favor of–"

She smiled and finished for him, "–taking her with us both days and having the Mignon tour of France? I'm still good with it. It will give her something to make up for being almost alone in a house where she's not welcome." Alex paused. "I know it's not much, but I had an idea...when we get home, could we ask the kids at Big Brothers to write to her at school? It would be a pen pal project for them, and something to cheer her up at the same time. I'm sure Ana would be interested. Buzzy and Ray would probably do it, and possibly Carmelita."

"It's a great idea. Any other topics of interest at dinner? I don't suppose Laurent dropped any more clues about Sunday."

"Nope, not one. In fact, after we talked about Mignon, Laurent shut down completely. Not the best dinner I've ever been to."

"I'm sorry I left you in that situation."

He took a few more absent bites from the sandwich while she looked perplexed, tapping her finger on her nose. "I'm still thinking about something Laurent said...why would Nicole forbid Mignon to have friends? I can't imagine not going to my best friend's house after school–"

"We grew up in a different world, Eames. Now they have 'playdates.' No one goes anywhere unmonitored. Remember what Laurent said: that Nicole wouldn't let her go to a friend's house alone. Probably because she didn't know their parents. Because the woman who could kill with impunity and push drug addicts out windows was at heart still a little girl who couldn't trust daddies." A pause. "Anyone's daddy.

They both sat quietly for a few minutes, then he rested his hand on hers, massaging her fingers. Automatically she asked, "Why not finish your sandwich, Bobby?"

He put his arm around her and inched along the bench until they were shoulder to shoulder. "I think I'd rather sit beside you and try to make up for spoiling dinner."

"Think you can do that, huh?" Alex asked.

"For the lady who puts up with me, I'll give it my best. She deserves it."

"Is that so?" she asked gravely, then turned toward him, curling her arms around his neck and kissing him gently.

"Um...the Brabant is in Belgium," he murmured when their lips parted.

"Just what I always wanted to know," and she kissed him again.

"And...I know more...um...about Belgium," he added a few minutes later, kissing the left side of her neck. "Brussels is known for its bobbin lace." Next he kissed the right side. "Belgians believe their chocolate to be the best in the world." Then he kissed the hollow of her throat. "The Belgian national symbol is Manneken Pis, a naked little boy peeing into a fountain in Brussels."

She uttered a low chuckle, then whispered, "Show, Bobby—don't tell."

Later, when Christine Duchon knocked softly on the door and received no answer, she started into the room to turn down the bed, but found it already occupied, with them intertwined in sleep and mostly under the covers, and a half-eaten sandwich set on the blanket chest.

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