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“So?”
He leans forward. “Last night after our conversation, I went over the annotations Angie made on your list.”
“Why would she need to annotate my list?” I ask, surprised.
It’s his turn to raise his eyebrows. “To mark who she already called to set up a meeting, if they agreed, and the meeting times.”
“D’oh, she’s your secretary!” I slap my forehead. “Why did I think you’d be the one making those calls?”
“For your information, I personally made a call this morning because of something I realized last night while looking at the list.” Pausing, he looks at me with pride.
I press my hands to my collarbone. “The suspense is unbearable.”
“On your list there’s an elderly maid that your sister had become friends with.”
“Linda Driessen,” I say. “She was past retirement age, but she loved working at the palace. So, they kept her on part-time, and gave her the easiest tasks like watering indoor plants.”
“Angie’s note said Linda had retired since then, but it was unclear where.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you going to tell me you know where to find her?”
“I thought the name Driessen sounded familiar…”
I lean toward him, all excited. “You know someone called Driessen?”
“It’s an Arrago valley name.”
My shoulders sag. “Ah.”
“I asked Jacques to look up Linda Driessen in our local registers.”
“Did he find her?”
“Yes!” a self-congratulatory grin spreads across his face. “Linda Driessen is now a resident in the nursing home we’re slated to visit tonight.”
“Unbelievable!” I push my glasses up. “Do you think she’ll talk to us?”
“After the official part is over, she’ll be waiting for us in her room.”
I jump to my feet. “Let’s go!”
“Rudy will be here in five minutes,” he says, checking his watch.
Exactly five minutes later, Rudy texts Louis that he’s outside. Louis pays, and we stride to the car. That is, Louis strides. I run.
* * *
World peace will bewithin reach if all countries adopt a law that no official ceremony should last more than thirty minutes.
I’m seething inside. For twenty minutes now, the director of the nursing home has been making a mind-numbingly boring speech to a room full of residents and staff. He’s delighted about our visit. That’s all he’s said, in a hundred different ways.
After his welcome address, Louis writes a big check, before presenting the knits and delicacies the castle employees made for the residents. He makes a speech, too. Then three residents take the floor. Unfortunately, they do so one after the other, and not in chorus.
I learn that it’s a longstanding tradition of the dukes of Arrago to sponsor this nursing home. It matters a lot to everyone present that Louis isn’t simply keeping that tradition alive, but that he came to visit. I can read between the lines. Hubert and Greta never bothered.
At long last, the official part is over, but Louis spends another hour chatting with the residents and autographing scrubs for the staff. Finally, the director offers to take us to Linda’s room.
We head down a corridor with handrails on either side. Residents shuffle up and down, holding onto them. The corridor is wide enough for multilane traffic of pedestrians, wheelchairs, walkers and medical beds. It smells of fresh linens, and—guess what?—cinnamon!
