Schäfer looked puzzled. “But you just said that you were going to her place.”

“I’m on my way to her apartment, yes.”

“But she’s not there?”

“No.”

“What, you have a key?”

Duvall smiled hesitantly, looking from Schäfer to Augustin, who both remained silent, before he answered.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

Schäfer frowned and shook his head slightly as if to say it wasn’t.

“Is she at work?”

“Yeah, she had a thing. She left early.”

“Do you know where we can find her? Sergeant Augustin here and I just have a couple of question we need to ask her.”

“I’m not really sure,” Duvall said, and he started meticulously folding the top of his bakery bag. “Did you try to catch her at the newspaper?”

Schäfer scratched his neck as he peered questioningly at Duvall. “You’re a communications director, aren’t you?”

“I was. I quit.”

“Were you any good at your job?”

“At least at one time I was, yes.” Duvall shrugged modestly.

“Hmm,” Schäfer said. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his inside pocket and then tapped one out of the package. “I also sometimes pound my chest about how good I am at my job, and do you know why I’m good at it?” he asked out of one corner of his mouth as he lit the cigarette hanging out of the other. He took a deep puff, scrunched up his eyes, and zeroed in on Duvall.

“No.” Duvall smiled and shrugged. “But I presume you’re about to tell me.”

“I can tell when people are lying.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Schäfer said, and pulled a bit of tobacco out from the inside of his bottom lip without breaking eye contact with Duvall. “So how about you tell us where she is?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Heloise. Where is she? And don’t bother saying she’s at work. We both know that’s a lie.”

For a second Martin looked as if he were considering his options. Then he said, “She asked me not to tell you.”

“Do you know what the penalty is for intentionally withholding information that could lead to solving a criminal investigation?”

Martin furrowed his brow. “I fail to see how information about Heloise’s whereabouts could lead to solving a criminal investigation.”

“That’s why you do what you do, and I do what I do,” Schäfer said, tapping ash off his cigarette.

“Are you kidding me?” Duvall asked, chuckling and turning to Augustin. “Is he joking, or is he always such a caricature?”

Sergeant August stared at him blankly.