Murder Under the Palms Read Online Free

noon on Monday. I’m afraid that I’ll have to ask you to sign a memo to that effect—a mere formality. But you’re welcome to buy it. It’s only”—he checked the price tag in the box—“twenty-two thousand dollars.”
    “I don’t think so,” said Spalding, who despite his affluence came from the kind of old Yankee stock that didn’t believe in pretentious displays of wealth. He didn’t even drive a new model automobile.
    Dede stood looking on, the dog at her side.
    “Next,” said Paul, turning to her. Picking up another box from the table, he opened it to reveal a delicate diamond choker, which he proceeded to fasten around the smooth, tanned skin of her exquisitely long neck. No one could have shown such a necklace off to better effect.
    “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, turning to admire it in the mirror.
    Though everyone else made admiring comments, Charlotte noticed that the young woman’s mother refrained from saying anything. Which she supposed was better than her earlier, sarcastic remarks.
    “Now I will show you what Marianne and I will carry,” Paul said, turning back to the table. “First, for Marianne.” Picking up the largest of the boxes, he removed a small, colorfully enameled pocketbook. The inside was divided into compartments for lipstick, mirror, and comb.
    “How lovely,” Charlotte said.
    “And relatively inexpensive,” he added.
    “It’s called a minaudière ,” Marianne explained. “It has compartments for everything a lady might need for an evening out.”
    “And for yourself?” Charlotte asked Paul.
    “I have the honor of carrying the second most expensive piece in the collection,” he replied. “But if I may say so, Marianne, it is the most beautiful item in an absolutely stunning collection.”
    Marianne nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment.
    Reaching into his pocket, Paul pulled out the diamond-inlaid gold case from which he had offered Charlotte a cigarette earlier in the evening.
    “How much is that worth?” Spalding asked.
    “About two hundred thousand,” he replied. Opening it, he offered Charlotte another cigarette, which she declined. “But well worth every penny. Not since Fabergé has there been such workmanship, if I do say so myself.”
    “And what’s the most expensive piece?” asked Spalding, who, though much too polite to ever say so, was clearly astonished that anyone would pay so much for something as frivolous as a cigarette case.
    “This,” Paul said, picking up the remaining box. “Five hundred thousand. But it’s not the most unique—that honor belongs to my cigarette case. This is actually a copy of a piece that was designed by Cartier in the 1930s. They gave us permission to reproduce it.”
    “Little did we know when we planned to include it that we would have the ideal model,” Marianne said.
    Paul smiled and turned to Charlotte.
    “ Moi ?” she said, clapping a hand to her chest. Having only arrived at the last minute, she hadn’t expected to be included at all.
    “Yes,” said Paul. Standing before her, he slowly opened the lid.
    Charlotte gasped. Inside was a replica of the necklace she had worn in the film, The Normandie Affair , which had been shot on the ocean liner in 1939.
    “The original is on display at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris, as I’m sure you know,” Paul said.
    Charlotte nodded. The necklace had been on loan from Cartier, which had displayed it at the 1939 New York World’s Fair. They had also lent it to her when she received the Oscar for her role in the film.
    “Let’s hope that no one steals it tomorrow night,” said Paul, referring to the movie plot, in which the necklace is stolen by an enterprising jewel thief with whom Charlotte falls in love.
    “I hope not,” Charlotte said.
    “Don’t worry,” he reassured her, “there are going to be security guards there. If you don’t mind, we’d very much like to photograph you wearing the necklace,” he continued. “It