“Early this year.”

Around the time Francis was murdered. “Who’s behind the donation? Vinca Rockwell’s family?” I had been considering the idea that Vinca’s grandfather, unable to cope with the loss of his granddaughter, had somehow managed to organize a vendetta from beyond the grave.

“No,” Meirieu said, adding sugar to his coffee.

“Who, then?”

The bearded hipster checked his notes. “The endowment was made by an American cultural association, the Hutchinson and DeVille Foundation.”

The name did not immediately ring a bell. Meirieu drained his coffee in one gulp.

“As the name suggests, the foundation is funded by two families, the Hutchinsons and the DeVilles, who made their fortunes with a brokerage company they started in California after the war. They now have hundreds of branches all over America.” He glanced down at his notes. “The foundation acts as a patron of the arts and most of its donations are to schools, universities, and museums—St. Jean Baptiste High School, Berkeley, UCLA, the SF MoMA, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art…” Meirieu tugged at the sleeves of a denim shirt that was so tight, it looked like a second skin. “At the last board meeting, the directors were called in to vote on an unusual proposal. For the first time, it was suggested that the foundation fund a project outside the United States.”

“This was the project at the Lycée Saint-Exupéry?”

“Exactly. It was a very heated debate. The project in itself was not without merit, but it included a number of bizarre elements, like the creation of a garden by the lake to be called the Garden of Angels.”

“Stéphane mentioned something about a huge rose garden.”

“That’s it. The intention was that it should be a contemplative space dedicated to the memory of Vinca Rockwell.”

“But that’s insane, isn’t it? Why would the foundation rubber-stamp such a bizarre project?”

“That’s the thing—a majority of the board voted against it. But one of the families is now represented by a single heir. Apparently, there is some history of mental illness, so the directors were wary of this person, but according to the statutes of the foundation, she holds a large number of votes and managed to get the necessary additional votes to win a narrow majority.”

I rubbed my eyes. I had the strange impression that I was close to the truth and yet did not understand a thing. I got up to get my school backpack. I wanted to check something. I dug out the 1992–1993 school yearbook and as I flicked through the pages, Meirieu continued.

“The heiress in question is named Alexis Charlotte DeVille. I think you used to know her. She was a teacher at Saint-Ex when you were studying there.”

Alexis DeVille…the charismatic English teacher.