Murder in Nice by Susan Kiernan-Lewis Read Free Book Online Page A

from under heavy eyebrows.
    “ Excuse me,” Maggie said to
him in French. “I’m in Room 205.”
    The man didn’t respond.
    So it’s like that, is
it? It had been a long time since Maggie
had bumped up against an imperious or outright rude service person
in France. Even in Paris, most of them nowadays seemed to know on
which side their beignet was buttered. And the south of France especially
was usually a little more accommodating to tourists and
foreigners.
    “ Mademoiselle Morrison died
in your hotel two days ago,” Maggie said bluntly. If she expected
the man to blanch or soften, she was disappointed. He continued to
wait for her to get to the point. “A glass of wine was found in her
room. Did she order it through room service that night?”
    The man smiled faintly, surprising Maggie.
It was the look from a man wondering how long before someone asked
him the million-dollar question.
    “ Oui ,” he said.
    “ And did she order just a
glass or did she order a bottle?”
    “ A bottle,” he said. “A
Côtes du Rhône.”
    “ No bottle was found in her
room.”
    He shrugged. “The valet did not wait for her
to drink the whole bottle.”
    “ So is that your smart-ass
way of telling me he delivered the bottle and left it with
her?”
    “ As you wish,
Madame.”
    “ You’ve been a peach,”
Maggie said, turning away abruptly. “Thanks.”
    So Lanie had been bashed in the head with
her own wine bottle. Maggie took the elevator to the second floor,
her mind racing. That meant whoever had interrupted Lanie in her
bath had probably not come there intending to kill her but somehow
things escalated and the killer used whatever weapon he could
find.
    In this case, a bottle of killer Côtes du
Rhône.
    Where was the bottle? Surely the cops had
gone through all the rubbish bins and garbage cans around the
hotel. Would they think to look at a wine bottle as the weapon?
Maggie sighed. There must be a hundred bottles a day tossed in the
hotel garbage, not even counting the ones the guests brought in
themselves.
    As Maggie turned the corner from the
elevator, she slowed and then stopped. She could easily see the
room she shared with Annie at the end of the hall. And she could
also see a woman kneeling in front of the keyhole.
    At first she thought the person was
attempting to spring the lock on the door, but as she stood there
she saw the woman was trying to peer through the ancient keyhole
into the room. Maggie took several quiet steps on the balls of her
feet until she was close by and then cleared her throat.
    The woman jumped to her feet and whirled
around to face Maggie.
    It was Dee-Dee Bell. Even in the
semi-darkened hallway, Maggie saw that the woman’s blouse was
food-stained and her hair had yet to be combed that day.
    “ Oh, my goodness, you
startled me!” Dee-Dee said, her hand to her throat. Maggie was
close enough to smell her breath. She took an involuntary step
back.
    “ Did you drop something,
Miss Bell?” she said sharply, her irritation ratcheting up as she
waited for an explanation.
    “ What? Oh! Yes, I did. I
dropped my room key but, well, here it is! I found it.”
    “ Okay, that’s bullshit. You
were trying to look inside my room. What’s going on?”
    “ I don’t know what you’re
talking about. I dropped my key.”
    “ Where is it, then?” Maggie
peered at the woman’s hands.
    Dee-Dee scowled at Maggie and took a step
toward her. “I made a mistake, okay? Give me a break. I thought
this was Desiree’s room. Hers is right next door. Okay?”
    “ How is that any better
than you trying to peek inside my room?”
    “ Well, it’s better, Miss
whoever you are—and I don’t really know why I’m answering your
questions—because I have a reason for looking in Desiree’s
room.”
    “ A reason.”
    “ Yes, if you must know, I
thought I saw a man go in here.”
    Maggie’s key was in her hand and in the lock
within seconds. “Who?” she asked, her voice tight with concern.
    A man