Johann approached Davidson and the Cinsault butler. When the man saw Johann, he tried to run, but Davidson thought quickly and tripped him.
“I won’t say anything, I won’t,” he mumbled and looked around him as though there were spy devices on the ground. Davidson reached down to haul him to his feet, but he shuddered and lay still, his mouth foaming.
“Merde,” Davidson said and rolled the man over. “He must have had a poison capsule in his mouth.”
Part of the butler’s wrist showed between his sleeve and glove, and the inspector frowned. He knelt and separated the two items of clothing, revealing a tattoo of a square inside a circle.
“The sign of the neo-Pythagoreans,” Johann said. “There was one on the office window too, and a threat toward Madame Cinsault.”
“What did Madame say to you?
