“Yes. I did. Was the police response to your missing item sufficient? Do you think they’ll find it?”

He laughed, “What do you mean? They found it later that night. On the body of the dead man. It was returned to me the next morning.”

Diana paused, her next question forgotten—“It was found already?”

He nodded.

“On the dead man? You mean, that Claude Lachance?”

He grumbled a yes, seeming annoyed that she didn’t get it the first time.

Her jaw dropped, and her cheeks flushed. That was a definite curve ball. That meant that despite whatever Veronique said about him being a decent, lovable fool, he was also a criminal. A thief. And it also linked the thieving and the man’s death together. But if they were linked, why didn’t Claude have the necklace on him when he was found?

“What about the wristwatch? And the other—”

He shifted in his seat, crossed his leg over his knee. “Don’t know.” His lips stretched into an oily smile. “I have friends in pretty high places. The police commissioner’s a dear friend of mine. They take good care of me.”

“Oh, well—”

“Hey, wait,” he said, wagging a finger at her. “I remember you. You were the lady in red. Oui. I do. You were the one who found the body, right? You were the one the police said was wearing the Madame Royale when it was stolen!”

His voice had been steadily rising, and Diana felt called out. She stood up. “Yes, that was me, but—”

“Diana St. James. Right. They think you killed the guy and took the necklace!” He seemed pleased with himself to have figured it out. “Yes, the police are going to want to talk to you again.”

Her pulse thrummed. “What? Why?”

“Don’t take it from me, because it’s only second-hand information, but it did come straight from the top. That’s the running story they’re compiling. The two of you were in cahoots, trying to steal the necklace. You were seen dancing together, after all. He attempted to run away with it, leaving you to blame, and you were having none of it. So you killed him.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. The police searched me. I didn’t have anything!”

“Maybe. But I bet they think you hid it somewhere on the premises—to be recovered at a later date.”

She clenched her teeth. That was wonderful. That meant, by going back to Versailles, she was looking guiltier than ever. “They may think that, but it’s not true. I’m here now because I’m trying to find out who did steal the necklace.”

He laughed. “According to the rumors, he’s dead. And you’re his accomplice.”

“That’s . . .” There were so many thoughts in her head, but every one of them died before they could reach her vocal cords. The last thing she needed was to implicate herself more. “I never met the man before that night.”

He shrugged, “You might have to explain that to a judge.”