27Another careful sweep of Marcel’s apartment had garnered Molly exactly nothing: no emerald, and not so much as a hint of a whisper of a clue about who might have killed him. She had gone through his desk and bedside table looking for letters or notes. She had riffled through all the books on his bookshelf, though there were not very many. She had looked in trash cans, but the cleaning service was efficient and there was nothing in them. As far as Molly could tell from spending time in his apartment, Baron Marcel de Fleuray had been a man whose complications were hidden; his outward life was one of simplicity, despite his title. The apartment was roomy but not conspicuously so. He did not have many belongings. The view was unremarkable, the furnishings of good quality but not luxurious.
