Death and Transfiguration

Chapter 22

A million thoughts, a million emotions rushed through my head, but "fine" was certainly not a word I would have applied to this situation. I glanced toward Sylvestre, and he still had this panic-stricken look on his face, as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening.

To be perfectly honest, I couldn't believe it either.

Léa pulled out her sword, but I was certain that violence would only make this worse, so I turned to her and said, "Not now, Léa." She sighed and reluctantly put her sword back into her scabbard, while I turned to Robiquet and asked, "How do you know that Mr. Sylvestre did it?"

"Process of elimination," Robiquet said. "There aren't any other suspects, are there?"

"I don't think that's how process of elimination works..." Léa said.

"But Sylvestre didn't do it," I said. "He couldn't have."

"That's what I've been trying to tell them all along," Sylvestre muttered. "They don't listen."

"No one else in the city has a reason to kill Bergmann and Lajoie," Robiquet argued.

"He doesn't have a reason to kill Lajoie, and besides, he wasn't even at the opera house either of those days," I said.

"So he says, but frankly, I don't believe him, especially after his wife died under such mysterious circumstances," Robiquet said.

"They weren't 'mysterious circumstances,'" Sylvestre said. "She drowned."

"And last week, you said it was scarlet fever," Robiquet said. "It's no wonder nobody believes you, Mr. Sylvestre."

"Miss Pascal has proof he didn't do it," I said suddenly.

Robiquet laughed. "Pascal? The woman detective?" I nodded, and Robiquet said, "Have you considered there might be a reason why she's not a part of the police department? Leave this to the professionals, Miss Brackenborough."

"I'm serious," I said. "She talked to Sylvestre's neighbors and colleagues. All of them said that he was at the conservatory when Bergmann died and at home when Lajoie died. Unless there's some sort of vast conspiracy, you've just arrested an innocent man."

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," Robiquet said. "Stay out of this, Miss Brackenborough."

The police officers walked away with Sylvestre, and as he started shuffling toward the police station, Sylvestre looked back at me one last time, a nervous look on his gaunt, angled face. "Well, that was strange," Léa said as soon as they were gone.

"D-do you think he actually did it?" I said. "I was so sure he was innocent, but maybe they know something we don't..."

Léa laughed loudly and said, "They're the Paris police, Mattie. They wouldn't be able to solve a crime if the killer was right in front of them. If anything, we're ahead of them."

Léa had a point, but I wasn't completely convinced. I wanted to believe that Sylvestre didn't do it - after all, I had been studying with him for a while now - but he was the only one with a motive, however weak it was, and there was always the issue of whatever had happened to Mrs. Sylvestre. What I needed was to talk to Miss Pascal again, to see the evidence she had found with my own eyes. I needed to make sure that I could trust her over the city policemen.

I opened the door to Sylvestre's house, and when I spotted Jean-Luc and Sophie inside, I wondered how they were doing, how much they knew about what had just happened. They were both at the table, quietly eating their croissants, and although Jean-Luc occasionally stopped to annoy his younger sister, they both seemed a little distraught.