“It would be one thing if she was mugged or raped. That sort of thing could happen to anyone. This was different. Her killers were after something,” said Elizabeth. “And Adil and Malik know about it and want it. That’s why they searched your place, and why they tried to get in here. I don’t think they killed her, but I think they’re involved somehow. But whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to be here.”

“It’s kind of funny,” said Lucy thoughtfully, watching as Elizabeth yanked the duvet off the bed and began folding it. “There’s no checkbook, no bills, not even a savings account.”

“She used a debit card for everything. Everybody does now,” said Elizabeth, stuffing the bulky down-filled comforter into the wicker hamper. Lucy joined her, stripping off the red satin sheets, revealing a thick quilted mattress pad, which was somewhat stained.

“Ugh,” said Elizabeth, wrinkling her nose at the sight. She added the pillows to the linens in the hamper, then flicked loose one of the elastic straps that held the mattress pad in place. It popped up, revealing a second pad made of memory foam. “I guess she liked her comfort,” said Elizabeth, who was folding up the quilted pad.

“Most likely the mattress is worn out. This was cheaper than replacing it, I suppose,” said Lucy, wondering how she was going to pack up the bulky thing. And, there was also the black duffel that Sylvie kept at work. What had Elizabeth done with it?

“We mustn’t forget the duffel bag Sylvie stuffed under the reception desk,” she said.

“Oh, right,” said Elizabeth. “I shoved it under the bed when I saw what was inside.” Her cheeks reddened. “I see why you didn’t want to give it to her parents the other day.”

“Sylvie was a very interesting girl,” said Lucy.

“You can say that again,” agreed Elizabeth, pulling the bag out and plunking it on the naked bed. “But,” she said, speaking slowly, “she didn’t go to a gym. Frenchwomen despise exercise.”

“So it isn’t sneakers in that compartment for sweaty gear,” said Lucy.

“I doubt it very much,” said Elizabeth, reaching inside and pulling out a thick wad of euros stuffed into an envelope. “Ohmigod,” she said, dropping the bills on the bed, as if they were too hot to handle.

“I guess we know what Adil and Malik were looking for,” said Lucy, examining the bundle.

“How much is there?” asked Elizabeth.

“It’s all five-hundred-euro notes,” said Lucy, who was busy counting. When she was through, she’d counted a hundred bills, totaling fifty thousand euros.

“Where’d she get it?” Elizabeth wondered aloud. “She couldn’t have made this much working at the hotel, not unless she was paid a lot more than I am.”

“Frenchwomen are known for their thrift,” said Lucy, earning a long look from her daughter.