AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The fingerprints found at the scene, the witness’s, have a match.”
Everyone was staring at me. They didn’t see what the problem was, so I explained. “Jenny Grandet.”
The room was silent. Apparently that name didn’t mean anything to them.
“Jenny Grandet, Eugenie Grandet? Don’t you know them?” I lost my patience.
“Is it an actress?” asked Rhett.
“No, it’s a novel by Honoré de Balzac,” I sighed. “Have you never been to a library?”
Leah glared at me. Okay, the kid was allowed to not be a fan of nineteenth-century literature, but in this case, he could have refrained from commenting.
“Just because it sounds like Elizabeth Grandet doesn’t mean it’s suspicious…”
“No one is called that,” I said.
“In fact, her parents may have thought it would be a funny reference to Jane Austen with that surname. They modernized Elizabeth to Jenny,” suggested Agatha. “I have a childhood friend who was called Mauro. Her parents gave her the first name Marie-Lynn…”
“Ah! I know her, she’s an actress,” exclaimed Rhett as if he had just won the final ofWho Wants to be a Millionairewith that answer.
“Yes, Marilyn Monroe, not the girl in my class,” said Agatha.
The need to specify that wasn’t completely uncalled for, given that our colleague was devoid of any common sense. You only had to spend two minutes with Rhett to know that if he passed the entrance exam, it was thanks to his physical aptitude rather than his general knowledge.
Why were we blessed to have him with us? Well, I guess every workplace had its own village idiot, and in the grand lottery of idiots, we got Rhett.
Leah often told me to give him a chance and that one day he might surprise us, that he needed to build up his confidence… I couldn’t even count how many times she’d said it. I myself was a newbie only a few years ago, but I refused to believe I was ever such a dimwit.
“Can you type in Roxane Robin’s name on your computer?” I asked Agatha, who was still sitting at her desk, unlike the rest of us.
“In the database? But haven’t you already checked?”
“I mean on the internet.”
I knew what I was looking for wouldn’t be in the top results, which would have nothing to do with the young blonde whose path I’d crossed in Mrs. Barale’s garden.
I walked around the desk to sit beside her when just two minutes ago I had been complaining about someone doing the same to me…
“There,” I said, pointing to the screen.
“Cyrano de Bergerac?” she said, surprised, clicking on the link.
“Magdalene Robin, known as Roxane, Cyrano’s cousin. That’s two literature-inspired names.”
“Okay, so we’re dealing with a fan of old books,” said Leah. “That doesn’t tell us who our man, or rather woman, is.”
“No, I know,” I replied, “but this is as good a lead as any.”
“What about the dead guy? Do you know who he is?” Leah asked.
I was so anxious to discover the identity of the mysterious blonde, I had forgotten this information. After all, he wasn’t going to come back to life to testify against Santoni on the stand.
“Rob Defontaine,” I read from the report. “Single, a building contractor.”
I exchanged a look with my superior. On paper I had nothing special, but at least I had an identity. I was aware of what was waiting for me.
“I’m going to go do the routine visits, the neighbors, the coworkers, etcetera.”
