“Good idea,” chimed in Lucy, who also felt the need for something alcoholic. Her hands were still shaking, and she couldn’t erase the image of poor Chef Larry from her mind. He remained firmly in place, flat on his back, with the hilt of the knife sticking out of his chest.

“What did that cop mean?” asked Sid. “Can they really keep our passports and detain us here in Paris?”

“Oh, yes,” answered Bob. “The French legal system is different from ours. There’s no presumption of innocence, for example, and there are severe penalties for failing to cooperate. Our system is prosecutorial. The prosecution and the defense argue the case, and the jury decides. The French system is inquisitorial. A magistrate takes charge of each case and is responsible for determining the truth of the matter.”

“It seems rigged, if you ask me,” said Bill. “What if the magistrate is wrong?”

“Juries make mistakes, too,” said Bob. “It’s just a different system, but the ultimate goal is the same—to find the truth.” He paused. “No system is one hundred percent perfect.”

A waiter arrived with their orders, beer for the men and wine for the women, except for Rachel, who had a cup of tea. Sue was making fast work of the fries, a sure sign she was upset. She didn’t even take umbrage when the waiter asked if she wanted ketchup. She merely shook her head and didn’t criticize Bill when he said he sure would like some.

“Chef Larry wasn’t teaching me anything I didn’t know already,” she said, “but I had hopes, you know? I was hoping to learn the secret of pâte feuilletée. Mine never comes out quite right.”

“Why make it from scratch?” inquired Lucy. “You can buy ready-made puff pastry. It’s in the freezer section. That’s what I do.”

Sue gave her a pained look. “Not the same thing at all.”

“Well, maybe there’ll be a substitute teacher,” said Pam, who actually was an occasional substitute teacher back home in Tinker’s Cove.

“I don’t think so,” said Bill. “Le Cooking School looks like a one-man show to me.”

“What about the bakery?” wondered Pam. “Do you think it will close?”

“I bet Chef Larry has hirelings who do the baking,” said Sue, signaling the waiter for another glass of wine. “And he has that wholesale grocery business, too. Remember? He said he could get us all the wine and caviar we wanted.”

“At a very good price,” added Sid. “That’s what he said.”

Lucy was thoughtful, but it was Ted who said what she was thinking. “I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he dabbles in black market goods,” he said. “Lapointe mentioned that as a possible motive.”

“You think that wine and stuff we found in the apartment fell off a truck?” asked Sid.

“Something like that,” said Ted.