I was glad when I finally saw the Rue de Marignan ahead of me and knocked on Mary’s front door. Celeste opened it, giving me a strange and wary glance. “Ah, you have returned at last, madame. There is a gentleman waiting to see you. He has been waiting for some time.”

“A gentleman?”

“From the Sûreté, madame. In the front salon.”

“And my son? I ought to attend to him first.”

“All is well with him, madame. I have just made him a puree of vegetables, so he is well-fed.”

“Thank you, Celeste. I’d better see the inspector right away then. I wonder what he wants now?”

She gave a wonderfully Gallic shrug. I took off my hat, left it on the hat stand in the hall, then went through to the front salon. Inspector Henri had been sitting on one of the gilt armchairs. He got up as I came in. “Ah, Madame Sullivan. You return at last. Have you had an interesting stroll this morning? Or perhaps it was shopping in the Boulevard Haussmann? Or meeting a friend for coffee?” He motioned to a chair opposite him. I sat. He resumed his former place.

“I did meet a young friend at the Ritz,” I said. “But what brings you back here, Inspector? Have you been kind enough to come to tell me that the murder of Monsieur Bryce is solved and you have caught the murderer?”

“Alas no, madame. But I think we may be getting closer. I have come because I am interested to know what you were doing at Monsieur Bryce’s apartment this morning.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I muttered. That dratted housekeeper spilled the beans after all. But he went on. “My man recognized you when you left, but he is puzzled because he did not see you enter.”

“He wouldn’t have,” I said, weighing whether the truth would be preferable to a lie at this juncture. “I came in through the courtyard and up the janitor’s stair.”

“And may one ask why?”

I was still fishing desperately for a good explanation for this behavior. “The primary reason being that one of your men was standing outside and would not have let me enter.”

“But why should you want to enter in the first place?”

“Ah. It is as I told you—a member of Mr. Bryce’s family was interested in buying one of his paintings. She asked me to select one for her and I had promised to do so. I met the housekeeper who said that everything was to be packed into crates today, so I realized that I would have to take a look at his paintings myself so that the family was not cheated out of his best work. This family member was prepared to pay fair market value, although it is quite possible that the family member may inherit the estate anyway, so it was only fair…”