Naughty In Nice (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

he turned to glare at Johnson, who took a step back. “They could not have attended to him very diligently.”
    “There were no servants in the house,” Coco said. “Their master was supposed to be on his yacht today. This young man was running errands for Sir Toby in town, using Sir Toby’s car. The cook had been given the afternoon off.”
    “This is very strange,” Lafite said, looking from one face to the next as if we were the ones concealing something from him. “Sir Toby sets out on a yacht and yet is found dead in his own swimming pool. If he came back, where is now the yacht?”
    “I can answer that,” Johnson said. “I saw it moored in the old port in Nice.”
    “Then how did this Sir Toby arrive here if his car is in Nice, his yacht is in Nice? If he had come from his yacht, would his launch not be at the jetty, when I see it clearly tied to the buoy out there?”
    “He could have taken a taxi, I suppose,” Vera suggested.
    “Certainly, but why? He owns a car. He owns a yacht.”
    “I have no idea,” Vera said. “We know nothing of this man. We did not mix with him socially.”
    “But he was an English milord, like the rest of you, was he not?”
    “He was a baronet,” Vera said, “but he was essentially a self-made man.”
    “A what?” Lafite asked. “He made himself? He is God?”
    “I mean he came from the lower classes. His family made a fortune in industry. Therefore he was not one of us and never would be.”
    The inspector laughed. “You English. I shall never understand your snobbery.”
    “Your own French aristocrats are just as bad,” Vera said.
    “Even more snobbish.”
    The inspector nodded as if he had to agree this was true. He stepped back into the house, looking around the room. “This man was very rich, I think. He had a lot of fine things,” he said. “Antiques, paintings. I believe I recognize a Matisse, no?”
    “Van Gogh,” Vera said.
    “Ah, yes, of course. They all look the same, don’t they? Me, I do not appreciate this ugly modern art, but I understand it is worth a lot of money,” Lafite said. “But these old things”—he ran his hand over a sideboard topped with some lovely silver—“they are very nice. Worth a lot to a thief. Like these silver candlesticks, for example.” He pointed at one of them. “Heavy silver. This murder was committed during a robbery, I assure you. And Lafite is rarely wrong. Sir Toby swims in his pool. The thief does not know anyone is home. Sir Toby surprises him, and the thief, he hits him over the head with something like this candlestick.”
    He lifted his arm up triumphantly but his finger was somehow stuck in the candlestick. It came flying up with his hand. He looked at the dangling object in surprise, then scowled as we grinned. “They had narrow candles in those days,” he said and tried to shake it loose. The candlestick went flying across the room, struck the little glass-topped table and shattered the glass, which went flying everywhere.
    “Sacre bleu,” he muttered.
    “I think you have rather disturbed the crime scene,” Vera said with a note of triumph in her voice. “Let’s hope you haven’t done any damage to the priceless contents of the table.”
    Johnson gave a cry of horror and moved toward the table, but I got there first. The candlestick was now lying amid the shards of glass on top of the snuffboxes.
    “I think you’re in luck,” I said, lifting it out carefully and handing it to Johnson, who put it back in its place with a look of disgust at Lafite. I was not going to let a perfect opportunity slip away. The snuffboxes lay there, exposed, covered in shards of glass. “The objects in here all seem to be metal, not porcelain or glass. No real damage done.” I started to pick out shards of glass and then the snuffboxes, one by one, dusting them off, then replacing them, with a show of great concern. The queen’s box was next. My fingers moved toward it, wishing I had a pocket in my skirt—
    “Do not derange those things,” Lafite said sharply. “My men will take care of it. There may be telltale fingerprints. This manservant shall come with me on a tour of the villa and he may be able to see if anything has been taken.” He spun to face Johnson. “You weeell observe if any objects are missing,” he said.
    “If it was a thief, he left without taking anything, as far as I can see,” Johnson said.
    “He lost his nerve after he had killed Sir Toby,” Lafite commented in