Free Murder in the Marais by Cara Black Page A

"What I was attempting to say," she began levelly, "is that all those forms have been sent to you."
    She rifled through Rene's file and immediately pulled out a blue sheet. "You are," she stopped and spoke slowly, "Superintendent Foborski, I take it?"
    He nodded imperceptibly, glaring.
    She continued, "Your office accepted and time-dated this receipt." Aimee strutted over to Foborski and laid the sheet in front of him. "Keep it, I've got several."
    "Why don't I have a copy in my file?" He looked at it suspiciously. "I'll need to have this authenticated."
    She'd dealt with bourgeois bureaucracy before, so she was prepared. "Here's a copy of the sign-in log stating the time I submitted them, with the tax revenuer's stamp, if that's any help to you."
    He stared at the paper and shook his head. "Take this for verification," he said to his colleague.
    Aimee went back, sat down, and gave them what she hoped was a professional smile. "As you know from the form, I'm a private investigator. I don't usually look like this, but in my current case"—she turned to Foborski and looked again in his eyes—"the part demands it."
    Aimee passed her investigator's license, with the orange code symbol on it, around the table. She focused on the next most hostile pair of eyes and said matter-of-factly, "Can you bring me up to speed on what points my partner and you have negotiated so far?"

    A FTER AN hour of negotiations, she and Rene walked down the marble staircase, partially triumphant.
    "Only a seven-day extension." She looked at Rene ruefully. "We need three months."
    "Even with Hecht's retainer, we're short. Of course, if our overdue accounts paid their balance we'd make it." He half smiled. "But we'd have better odds buying lottery tickets."
    Near the exit to Place Baudoyer, they sat down on the wooden bench. Rene pulled out his ever-present laptop. Aimee hesitated—should she confide in Rene?
    Years after the bombing, she still woke up screaming from the same nightmare. She'd be crawling on cobblestones slippery with blood amid broken glass in the Place Vendôme. Her father would angrily demand that she hurry and piece his charred limbs together so he wouldn't be late for his award dinner. " Vite, Aimee, quickly!" he'd say out of his melted, burned mouth. "I have no intention of missing this!" She'd wake up terrified and run through her dark, cold apartment.
    Only once, after too much Pernod, had she told Rene about her nightmares and the bombing. Right now, she had to talk with someone she trusted.
    "I need a sounding board," she said. "Got an ear?"
    He nodded and left his laptop unopened. "I thought you'd never ask."
    She told Rene most of what had happened since Soli Hecht had hobbled into their office. She'd already told him about finding Lili Stein.
    "I wonder if Foborski attends Temple E'manuel Synagogue, the ones who supposedly hired me," Aimee continued. "Or if Abraham Stein does."
    "So?" Rene said. "I can't see Stein asking a fellow synagogue member to deny you a tax extension."
    "No, of course not." Aimee shook her head. "It's just strange that Foborski didn't have those forms."
    "Let me help you."
    She shook her head. "I'm reserving you for computer work." His hacking skills were the best she'd ever seen besides her own. Even better than her own. She saw the rejection in Rene's downcast eyes.
    "Because I'm small?"
    "Stop that. I dealt with your size long ago. You're my best friend."
    "And tact is not your strong suit, Aimee," Rene said. "Even though you're my best friend, too. Do you think if I were tall I'd be able to help you?"
    " Alors! This has nothing to do with your size, Rene. Lili Stein's homicide isn't our usual corporate crime."
    "Don't count me out, Aimee."
    "I swore on my father's grave." She put her head down. "Now I've blabbed to you."
    "You swore to deliver something to Lili Stein. You did. Remember, I'm a black belt." He nudged her proudly. "And a good backup."
    She sighed. "You keep reminding me."
    "What