Just then, I hear heavy footsteps from above, and I glance up toward the staircase to see someone walking by. It’s clearly a man in a dark blue suit, but at this angle, that’s all I can make out. In a flash, he’s gone. “Was that…Monsieur St. Claire?” I mumble awkwardly. The woman glances up toward the stairs. “Yes, but he won’t be coming down,” she answers in a rush. “Oh.” “Please have a seat,” she says, guiding me toward the sitting room with two oversized armchairs near a marble fireplace.
