Part 5

Oscar had been gone longer than he’d realized. When he returned to the library, everybody was there, confused and barely awake.

“Where have you been all this time?” Sandra asked him.

“Like I said on the phone this morning, detectives have a bad habit of vanishing without explanation. I was just snooping around.”

“We should call the police,” Lara suggested.

“Nonsense,” Sandra said. “Oscar is the man for the job.”

He raised his hand to touch the brim of his flat cap as a gesture of thanks for her confidence and gave her an enigmatic wink.

She looked at the others and shrugged, wondering if it was supposed to mean he’d cracked the case already. It hardly seemed possible considering the lack of clues.

“What did you find at the bottom of the ladder?”

“Nothing at all. No blood, strangely enough.”

“No blood? Good grief, man!” Andrew Bellingham said with a nervous chortle. “Why would there be blood? No harm was done to any of us.”

Troy Walsh clicked his fingers and fixed the older man with his keen blue eyes. “Think about it, Andy. The thief should have cut himself smashing the window.” He turned to Oscar for affirmation, but it was Lara Lalande who replied, her accent French but her English impeccable.

“Don’t be silly, Troy.” She loved teasing him. “There’d be blood on the floor if that had happened.” She smiled smugly.

“A professional thief would have worn gloves and used a tool of some description to smash the window,” Sandra pointed out. “Isn’t that right, Oscar?”

“Most likely. In fact, a professional thief worthy of the title would have used a glass cutter and a suction cup to make a neat opening in the pane. It wasn’t the broken window I had in mind when I mentioned the absence of blood.”

Four blank faces waited impatiently.

“Brad and Bruce. They’re ferocious guard dogs, so where were they? It’s not like them to fail in their duty, is it?”

After a long pause, Andrew spoke, rubbing his chubby jowls pensively. “What if, just maybe, the thief was a woman? They’re much less aggressive with the ladies.”

“That may be so,” Oscar muttered.

“I think I’ll go and make us some coffee,” Lara said. “I had too much champagne last night and was hoping to wake up more peacefully this morning.”

“Thanks, darling,” Sandra said. “That would do us all some good. There are some madeleines and croissants in the pantry as well.”

“On the topic of the window, did anybody hear a smash?”

Lara had already left the room, but the others shook their heads.

“We all had a few too many drinks and probably slept soundly. That might explain why it went unnoticed.”

“Perhaps the burglar held a cloth over the pane to minimize the noise?” Sandra offered.

“Good point,” Troy said.

“That is indeed a technique used by fairly amateurish burglars,” Oscar informed them. “I don’t believe what is essentially a remarkable theft was carried out in such a clumsy way by a cat burglar. It just doesn’t fit, you know. More importantly, the evidence doesn’t lead to that conclusion.”

“What are you implying?” Andrew asked indignantly.

Oscar narrowed his eyes at him before turning his attention to the door.

“Who was the last person to leave the library last night?”

“Lara was,” Sandra said.

“Lara?”

“That’s right, but I don’t know why you’re insisting on all that, Oscar!”

Troy took a step toward Oscar and shook a finger at him. “Hold on a minute here! You’re not suggesting it’s one of us? Sandra, I won’t have that!”

She looked at Oscar, pleading.

“I just want to consider all the possibilities.”

They stood in silence for a minute. Troy was looking peeved, while Sandra and Andrew seemed to be deep in thought.