Lethal Habit - Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Nadine thought long and hard. She could feel the heat bearing down on her. Maybe it was time for a little trip before she settled things with Erik. She wisely decided to stay away from the restaurant where she had run into Audrey. She sent Erik a text asking if he was back in town. He was. 

She decided to visit Paris for a week and formulate a plan in her head. She took the Eurostar and arrived at the city of lights in under three hours. She found a nice French restaurant and ordered salmon with a glass of Merlot. There were a few other diners absorbed in conversation. She understood a little French and enjoyed the fact that no one was speaking English, except for the waiter. After she finished her meal, she rented a room near the Left Bank and fell soundly asleep.

The next day the sun was shining, and she walked down the Champs-Élysées just enjoying the sights. She grabbed an espresso and visited a cute little bookstore. She found a copy of Madame Bovary and read a few pages, starting to get lost in the story. A man noticed her and said something in French. She said to him ‘Je ne parle raiment francais.’ 

“You are English?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So, visiting Paris, eh?”

“Yes, I’m enjoying it very much.”

“It’s a beautiful city. I moved here ten years ago.”

“So much to see and do.”

“Yes, there is. What have you seen so far?”

“Not much, I’ve just been walking around.”

“My name is David Benoit.”

“Nadine.”

“Well Nadine, I’ve got an hour, if you’d like me to show you around.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’d rather just go where the feeling takes me.”

“I see. Well, I hope you enjoy Paris. Au revoir.”

“Au Revoir.”

Men are so typical she thought. When would she meet someone who had something that attracted her? God was a tough act to follow.

She stayed three days and followed the news in London. She found out who was investigating the murder and called him up.

“Detective Morris?”

“Who’s this?”

“My name is Susan Sullivan. I might be able to help with your investigation.”

“How’s that?”

“I knew the deceased and was at the party when it happened.”

“What can you tell me Ms. Sullivan?”

“Before he died, he was talking about a man he was doing business with named Erik Lustenberg. He said they were working on some deal together and was very excited about it. He was very drunk, and I thought it strange to be talking about it - it seemed like he was out to impress me. He made several advances, but I rejected him and left. Then later I found out he had fallen to his death.”

“That’s very interesting Ms. Sullivan. Where might I find this Mr. Lustengberg?”

“If you give me your email, I’ll send it to you.”

He gave her his contact information.

“Are you coming back to London soon?”

“Probably in a couple of weeks.”

“Why don’t you leave me your phone number in case I need to follow-up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And why is that?”

She hung up on him. Morris looked at his phone and had a strong impression that he had just spoken with the murderer.

Nadine ascended the Eiffel Tower, got off and looked over all of Paris. She’d send Morris an email from an anonymous account and give Erik something to deal with, assuming Morris would follow up. It didn’t really matter. She had her own plans for Erik and was looking forward to arranging things, so she’d create the perfect scenario to enact her personal brand of justice on this monster who preyed on women for sport and did nothing of value for all his millions. She felt like a gardener, killing the weeds that choked the beautiful flowers so they could blossom in all their beauty.