“Indeed she will, madame. We are all sad. M. Bryce is a great loss.”

“So I really hope his cousin Louisa will have a painting to remember him by. I wonder if it might be possible to see around his home and inside his studio for myself, so that I can write to her and describe which paintings his cousin might wish to purchase.”

“No, madame. That would not be possible,” she snapped. “The apartment is shut. Nobody is allowed to go in by order of the police. I myself have not been allowed to sleep in my room or to clean anything. I have been staying with my sister, which is most inconvenient as she has no room for me. I only came today to retrieve certain personal items, before the police decide to throw them out. And there is food in the pantry that will be spoiled soon, if it isn’t spoiled already. I had pies and cakes… Monsieur Bryce loved his pies, madame. I expect they have spoiled already, but I thought I would just see what could be saved.”

From the way she said this and her defensive posture I sensed there was more to her visit than looking for spoiled pies. She was uneasy, knowing that she shouldn’t be here. She had expected to slip in unnoticed and now here I was asking questions. I wondered if she only intended to help herself to a bottle or two of good wine or if she had her eye on something more valuable, like the silver, or maybe even a painting.

“Of course, it would be a shame to let good food spoil,” I said, nodding agreement and watching the hint of a smile twitch at her lips.

“It is too bad,” she said. “After all these years to be told that my services were no longer needed and I should find employment elsewhere. The inspector told me to come on Monday morning to give the place a thorough cleaning and then I’m finished. No more. I must find a new situation and I am no longer young. If I ever found the swine that took Mr. Bryce’s life, I would run him through with a knife myself.”

“The knife that killed him—I understand from the inspector that it was an ordinary kitchen knife.”

She shrugged. “He asked me if it came from my kitchen. I told him it was an inferior knife to the ones he would find in this establishment. Mr. Bryce only liked the best. Stainless steel, you know. Very modern. And now…” She turned away from me.

I put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I understand how hard it must be for you, madame.”

She nodded, putting her hand up to her mouth. “Mr. Bryce would never have wanted me to be cast aside in this manner. He appreciated all that I did for him.”