“Madame, with all due respect, may I ask—” Report Man began, his doubts visible, but Madame Perrault cut him off.
“I shall tell more to the FBI, not to you.” She stood up. “I will change clothes first, then I will plead guilty to the FBI. I hope they’re still downstairs.”
They all stood, ready to leave.
“Thank you, Madame,” Trevor said, his voice hesitant.
Sensing his compassion, Madame Perrault offered a faint smile. “Don’t worry about me. I have diplomatic immunity.”
The group waited silently in the corridor outside the room. Trevor’s phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out—a message from Gossip News. He walked a short distance away to check it.
“Girlfriend?” Spion joked.
The message read: “Wolfsbane juice mix Alkaline powder is the poison, frog bile is the cure.”
Trevor’s mind raced. The FBI found Wolfsbane on the apples and Alkaline powder on the Ambassador’s lips, but what did the cure mean? Could they actually cure the Ambassador? He hoped not.
He quickly typed: “What does the cure mean? Do I need frog bile? Where to find it?” No reply came.
Moments later, Madame Perrault emerged. She had changed back into the deep red dress she wore at the party, with a matching cashmere shawl draped over her neck and shoulders. Clutching a forest green crocodile skin bag in her hand, she looked like a glamorous rose against the gloomy hour. She paused only to speak to Ali: “Ali, keep the room for me; I may come back tomorrow.” Then, turning to the group, she announced, “Now, let’s go,” leading the way.
No one spoke a word as they arrived in the lobby. Two agents guarded the area casually, chatting. Ali spoke to them, asking for Agent Mulder, and one agent immediately radioed for him.
Agent Mulder and Agent Scully stepped out of the black FBI SUV parked in the Salon’s front yard. The moment they entered the lobby, Madame Perrault confronted them.
“Officer, I am Catherine Perrault, the wife of the Ambassador of the Frankish Kingdom. I confess I poisoned my husband, the Ambassador.”
Agent Mulder’s jaw clenched slightly. He could see his promotion dream crushed in endless diplomatic red tape if Madame Perrault indeed was the murderer. That was the last thing he wanted.
Agent Scully, ever calm, spoke first. “Madame, we appreciate your honesty. Would you be willing to come with us for further investigation?”
“Certainly,” Madame Perrault replied, sounding relieved. She walked quickly toward them. “I will go with you to the FBI, but I demand an arrangement to send me back to my home country, Frank. My legal counsel and assistant shall discuss the details with you tomorrow morning.”
Agent Mulder paused, thinking. He glanced at Trevor, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “Madame, do you happen to have the poison vessel right now? We believe it was a spray bottle, but we couldn’t find it. We need it as evidence.”
Madame Perrault hesitated, her relief dissolving. “I… I don’t remember where I threw it. I was too panicked at the time.”
Agent Mulder’s confidence returned. He addressed Madame Perrault directly. “Madame, no need to rush to the FBI just yet. There are still many doubts surrounding this. We can find a quiet place to chat more. If you’re trying to protect someone, rushing this won’t help them.” He then called out to Ali, “Ali, may we use the Reading Room?”
“You don’t believe me?” Madame Perrault’s voice rose, losing its composure.
“Madame, we need a fully formal confession supported by the evidence so we can close the case properly, please,” Agent Scully soothed.
As Madame Perrault was escorted to the Reading Room by Agent Scully and Agent Mulder, the group quickly hurried to the elevator hall to discuss in urgent whispers.
“She’s trying to protect Snow, obviously,” Report Man stated first.
“She didn’t have time to throw any poison if it was her. She was busy chatting with guests throughout the party,” Lady News confirmed.
“Snow poisoned the Ambassador, and Madame Perrault is the accomplice,” Trevor realized suddenly. “They are very close. Snow absolutely wanted to help her friend escape that miserable marriage.”
“But if the FBI figures that out, it won’t help anyone. Snow doesn’t have diplomatic immunity,” Spion considered, frowning.
“If the FBI arrests Snow, I think Madame Perrault will plead with the judge, and surely Mr. Dressrious and I will too. The Ambassador deserved it,” Ali said with quiet conviction.
“We are all willing to help,” Lady News agreed. “But we need to find Snow first so we can discuss a strategy.”
“Where is she?” Ali asked.
“Ali, you’re the Head Waiter,” Report Man reminded him.
“Oh, right.” Ali quickly pressed his badge. “To Snow,” he said. After a beep, he spoke, “Snow, where are you? We need to talk.”
“In the staff lounge. What’s wrong?” Snow’s nervous voice answered through the badge.
“Nothing, I’ll come to you.” Ali ended the communication. “To the staff lounge then.” The four friends and Ali took the elevator to the basement where the staff lounge was located.