Naughty In Nice (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

area.”
    “Murderer?” the policeman asked sharply, glancing at his colleague, who had just come in from the pool area. “Who said anything about murder?”
    “One has to consider all possibilities,” Vera said quickly.
    “Men do not often fall into their own swimming pools and die.”
    “He could have had a heart attack,” the first gendarme said.
    “The water around him appeared to be pink, indicating that he had been bleeding,” Vera said.
    “He could have slipped on the wet cement and hit his head,” commented the gendarme who had just entered. His colleague turned to him. “I think you should stay by the body until the inspector arrives. We should not allow it to be tampered with in any way.”
    “Who could tamper with it?” the other gendarme demanded. “It is in a swimming pool halfway down a cliff, cut off from the world.”
    “There are also buzzards and seagulls,” the first gendarme said. “They will be attracted to this kind of corpse.”
    The other gendarme, who looked as if he was fresh out of training school, turned decidedly green. “I will stay with the body,” he said and retreated again. The first gendarme turned to us. “It is interesting that you suspect a murder, however. Perhaps you know more about this matter than you are revealing to us. You English know much about the various intrigues that go on when you come to the Riviera.”
    “I assure you we know nothing about Sir Toby Groper,” Vera said. “Only what we have overheard from our own terrace.”
    “And what did you overhear?”
    “Today, as I told you, we were in Nice all day, so we heard nothing. We were actually at police headquarters in Nice, if you need an alibi for us,” Coco said.
    “And what were you doing at police headquarters?”
    “A valuable necklace was stolen from us last night. We were attempting to aid the police in its recovery.”
    This cheered the young gendarme no end. “Ah—a robbery took place last night. And today a man is found dead in his swimming pool. Perhaps a second robbery was planned and Sir Toby surprised the thieves, who hit him over the head and threw him into his pool.”
    “The robbery took place at the casino on the pier,” Vera said.
    “Ah.” The young gendarme looked around as if he were unsure what to do next. His gaze fell on Johnson. “This young man—is he the only servant in the house?”
    The question was translated for Johnson. Coco in turn translated the answer for the policeman. “He says there is a cook, Marie, but that it is her half day off to visit her family. There is also a local woman who comes in every day to clean, but only in the mornings, and there are two gardeners and a chauffeur.”
    “And where are these people now?”
    “The gardeners do not live on the premises. I have the address at which they can be found, if you will wait. They usually start early then go home after lunch. And the chauffeur has a small apartment over the garage. I think he was also given the afternoon off, as Sir Toby planned to be on his yacht and this young man was given the car.”
    “And what is your capacity in this household?” Johnson was asked.
    “He is—he was Sir Toby’s manservant, valet,” Coco translated. “He also acted as secretary when necessary and helped Sir Toby with his correspondence.”
    “Why was he not attending on his master, leaving him in the house alone?” the policeman asked.
    “Sir Toby went off on his yacht about midday,” Johnson said, addressing the answer to Coco rather than the gendarme. “I was told to take his car and go into Nice, where I had various commissions to carry out. I had to send a telegram to England, to have his shoes resoled, to obtain more of his favorite cigars and to mail letters. He told me that I need not hurry back as he thought he might sail to Monte Carlo and probably dine there. Therefore I took the liberty of having a cup of coffee in a café and of strolling around, observing the people. This is my first trip abroad, so it’s all a novelty to me.”
    “And you returned when?”
    “A few moments ago, as I told you. The driveway was blocked by your car, so I went to Madame ’s villa next door to find out what was wrong.”
    As this question-and-answer session continued, I found my gaze drifting to the glass-topped table in which the queen’s snuffbox reposed. If only they would all go out to the pool, I might have a chance to lift the lid and take it. My heart was racing. This was not in