The Mask of New Paris ✓

XIX. An Unlikely Aid

When I followed Joane inside the library, it was almost believable that out of all places, Ernest Boudrot would choose this room in his estate to welcome death. Long windows drew in the pale daylight as it illuminated shelf after shelf filled with thick leather bound books. An animal skin softened the hard wood underneath our soles as we made our way to the small sitting area consisting of three comfortable chairs and a small dark wooden table.

Joane sat down and instructed Farah and I to do the same. Still gawking at the room around us, I heard Joane clear her throat. When my eyes met hers again, they were welcomed by an impatient stare.

"Don't lie to me, Annabelle. Tell me what you know and I'll tell you what I know and then we can discuss if our collaboration goes further than this conversation." She said, placing her soft hands on either arm of her chair. Her ancles crossed to the point where her black lacquée shoes didn't even touch to squeak.

"My mistress has told you the big lines." Farah decidedly said in my place. With an eyebrow raised, Joane's judgemental gaze ran over Farah's old attire.

"I am talking to your employer, not to you." The Boudrot daughter said and she returned her attention back to me. Underneath her scrutinizing look I could barely manage to recall the sudden bravery with which I had managed to arrange this meeting. Reed's face ran through the back of my mind, his stern look that one night when those cruel men had invaded our house. A look that would burn down castles to make sure that I was unharmed.

As a friend, I was obligated to find him, I told myself and I straightened my back. I needed to know if Joane was aware of Reed's recent work as a spy. Normally she wouldn't be but if she did know it would prove easier to work together in an entire honesty. Instead, I forced myself to lie.

"Reed wanted to return to the Night Guard." I said firmly. My words hung in the silence for a while as Joane's eyes turned calculating. Her brows frowned and a deep line was carved on her forehead. She pouted, unaware of the movement before she nodded for me to continue.

She believed me.

"As a trial, they gave him the task to find whoever attacked councilman Banner. He was on the right track when Banner was murdered which only seemed to confirm his suspicions."

Joane lifted a finger to her lips and prodded her underlip slightly. "And has Reed informed you about his suspect?"

I shook my head, feeling an ashamed blush dawning on my cheeks. He didn't trust me enough to hide such important information. "Otherwise I wouldn't be searching in the dark." I replied.

Joane must've seen the emotions so clearly displayed on my face but she didn't push further onto the already painful subject. If Reed had trusted me enough to tell me, this whole cat and mouse game would've already ended.

"The only clue I have is your father. Reed was planning on talking to him. Probably somewhere after the Masquerade, but Reed..."

Joane remained silent for a while, focusing her gaze on a small vase of delicate white flowers I did not know the name off. She didn't continue my sentence. She took a deep breath before she continued the conversation.

"We have nothing." She decided. "Your husband is missing, my father is dead and the ones responsible are... anonymous." At that last word, a muscle pulled at the corner of her mouth. Suddenly Farah froze. Her wrist tensed and she ran her fingers quickly up and down the arm of her chair. I eyed the sudden movement curiously. I looked back up at Joane who was watching us intently.

"You have your own suspicions!" I let out so suddenly I even surprised myself. Joane rose her eyebrows and slumped back in the chair. Farah smirked.