Alex Harris 00 - Armed

prices.”
    “There’d be no money in such a thing,” Mr. Poupée postulated. “We make our profit mainly from the sale of the mannequins, not from supplemental eyes. I mean we make a profit, certainly, but nothing one could manipulate for any kind of substantial profit. Why risk it?”
    “I don’t know, but this explains why Mrs. Scott asked for the printout. She must have suspected Emmanuelle of something. Another thing, this printout is for the last two years. Emmanuelle started just over two years ago.” I sat back in my seat looking smug.
    “It just doesn’t fit,” John said.
    “Yes it does. Mrs. Scott sensed something was going on, maybe from her confrontation with Emmanuelle.”
    “Poor woman,” Mr. Poupée interjected.
    “She knew we would find the printout, and with the box of eyes she sent to Mr. Absher, we would put it all together. Maybe she even suspected she might not make the meeting she arranged with you, Mr. Poupée. She looked tense that night, all day as a matter of fact.”
    Mr. Poupée crossed his arms on top of the desk and put his head down. “Why couldn’t I have seen the importance? I knew something bothered her, but I couldn’t make the time.”
    “I’d like to speak with Ms. Roberts,” John said. “Now. If it’s possible, Mr. Poupée.”
    Mr. Poupée lifted his head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Detective. She left first thing this morning for a meeting with a potential buyer in Florida.”
    “When will she be back?”
    “Not until Friday.”
    “Well, this can’t wait,” John said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to call her and arrange for her to return immediately. But I don’t want her to get suspicious so perhaps you can make up something to get her back.”
    Mr. Poupée said he would make the call right away.
    I sat back in the chair feeling odd. After my talk with Emmanuelle at the funeral, I began to see her in a different light. Those damned Hallmark moments always seemed to lead me astray. But everything pointed to her. She would soon be behind bars, and this didn’t sit well with me. On the plus side Mr. Poupée was off the hook and I could return to my own business. But something still nagged me and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t bring it into focus.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

    After the meeting with Mr. Absher, I left the factory and went over to Mills Pond to face my grandfather. I figured if I didn’t do it now, time would just slip away and I would never go back. When I got old, if alone, I decided Mills Pond wouldn’t be a bad place to go. The place looked more like a resort spa than a home for the aged and, judging by all the hustle and bustle, the place kept everyone active.
    My grandfather, much to my extreme delight, had no recollection of what transpired the week before. His conversation tended toward another resident named Lucy. From what he told me, she must be the object of his affections. I briefly wondered whether I would be getting a new grandma. I gave him gifts from Sam and me, and he said he would keep them for Christmas day.
    On the way back to my office I stopped and picked up a sandwich, which I now ate with gusto. I took another gluttonous bite while a large chunk of it plopped on the table.
    “It looks like everything’s settled. Emmanuelle killed Mrs. Scott. What’s wrong?” Sam asked. “You don’t look convinced.”
    My sister made quite a show of licking mayonnaise off her thumb. I picked up a sandwich for her, knowing full well, even if she had eaten, she would have room for more. She didn’t disappoint. “I am,” I said, without much conviction. “I guess I just wanted it to be Jerry Gagliano. After my talk with Emmanuelle yesterday I saw her in a different light.”
    “You’re too soft.”
    I became pensive for a few moments and then added, “If Mrs. Scott did suspect Emmanuelle of something, why? What tipped her off?”
    We took our plates to the kitchen and stuffed them in the dishwasher.
    “Emmanuelle works at home, right? Maybe she spent too much time out of the office and made Mrs. Scott suspicious.”
    “Maybe,” I agreed, albeit with hesitation.
    We went back to my office where I grabbed a large stack of files from the corner of my desk and placed them in front of me. We received the good news first thing this morning that we won the Avery & Levy account. A lot of work needed to be done to fully staff the agency by the end of January. “You know, it just doesn’t make any sense,”