He turned to her sharply, full of betrayal. “It was you?”
Tears gathered in her eyes, her chest heaving, the blue silk of her dress crinkling with the motion. “Yes,” she said breathily, “I’m so sorry. I…”
“You killed Monsieur? But why?”
She paused, trying to put off her answer. “It really wasn’t my fault,” she pleaded. “I really wasn’t interested in him, but he was insistent. He kept saying he’d kill for me. One day, he actually promised to do it, and I knew he was a murderer and it was up to me to stop him…
“He finally trapped me in a tiny little room, and there was this look in his eyes, this disturbing mischievous look like he was going to take advantage of me whether I liked it or not. I had to do something… And then I saw the drug on the table. I thought I could knock him out with it, I had no idea it would kill him…” she confessed.
He frowned at her. “I’m afraid you’ve tied my hands. I’ll have no choice but to arrest you…”
“Fine,” she spat angrily. “Arrest the innocent woman! But you should be thanking me!”