Chapter 2

Mr. Scott's little T2 had quickly filled up. Indeed, a whole team of investigators had invested the place to find possible clues. I let them do it, while remaining in the background under the orders of what must have been the most senior of them. I sat down on the sofa, still nauseous - it was the first time I had seen a corpse in this state! - and called the next client to cancel my intervention. I then warned my management, explaining to them the situation in which I found myself. They offered me to recover all of my hours with a day off the next day, but I refused their offer, working would change my mind!

When I had finished, the inspector whom I suspected to be the most senior had approached me with velvet steps. Armed with a notepad, he sat down next to me and pulled out a pencil.

The man in question could compete hands down with the playboys parading for the Mister Universe elections. A haircut / disheveled with jet black curls, a well-trimmed beard, electric blue eyes, a good six feet of bulging muscles... he was really to die for. Her voice, both smooth and rocky, gave me shivers of pleasure, as much as her full lips made me look. In a different situation, I would certainly have had fumes, maybe I would even have allowed myself to salivate on a few fantasies including this handsome thirty-year-old! But the time was serious, there is no doubt that Mr. Scott had not died of natural causes, it was most certainly a murder!

A strange murder though, I had spoken to my client a few hours earlier and the corpse looked like he had been dead for several days already. How could this be possible?

- I'm Lieutenant Franotti, how are you feeling? he asked me.

- Sloppy, I confessed.

He nodded and wrote something on his notepad.

- Can you state your identity and define the relationship you had with the victim?

- I am Wilson Alessandra, born November 18, 1995 in Clermont-Ferrand.

I gave my address and my number before getting to the heart of the matter. He wrote down all the information given, without saying a word.

- I have been working as a home helper for about two months at the rate of 6 hours per week, divided according to Mr. Scott's needs. I was coming to work when I discovered the body, I finished.

- When was the last time you saw Mr. Scott? he asked.

- I saw her yesterday, for a simple courtesy visit, but also to have her sign various documents. I also had him on the phone this morning to postpone my intervention, I replied.

The lieutenant arched an eyebrow, his dubious pout letting me know that, like me, he thought that Mr. Scott had been dead for several days already. He wrote down my answer anyway before getting up and holding out his hand.

- Thank you Mrs...

He looked at his notepad and added:

- Miss Wilson. I will contact you in the next few days, when we have more elements. In the meantime, I release you. Good evening.

I got up in my turn, shook his hand - he had an iron fist, making mine look like a weakling - and greeted him as well.

My God, what a day! I will think about it many times now, before helping anyone!