CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Rachel pulled her bathrobe tighter around her, uncomfortable that the detective and gendarme were still in her studio, surreptitiously looking around for indication that anyone, that he, had been there.
“Mademoiselle Walton, I am surprised at the calmness with which you accept this information.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry that this pig received his just deserts? He must associate with his own kind, and they decided his time had come.”
“I think you may speak too hastily. I think perhaps you are ignorant of what you are involved in.”
“I’m not involved in anything.”
“Are you not?”
“No.”
Detective Baertschi walked over to the French doors, removed a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped it across one of the panes. He peered out over the terrace at the gendarme who
