He was ebullient and had no doubt been nipping at his own wine. “If you like my menu design, folks, Carmela here is the super talented lady who did all the graphics. She’s also the owner of Memory Mine Scrapbook Shop over on Governor Nicholls Street.” There were smiles and a spatter of applause, and then he added, “Right next to the shop where that very strange man was murdered a few nights ago. The one who stole the death mask.” “Allegedly stole,” said Carmela. Duval peered at Carmela, suddenly looking interested. “Your shop is adjacent to Marcus Joubert’s?” he asked. Carmela nodded across the booth at him. “I take it you knew him?” She was stammering a bit, knowing full well that Mavis Sweet had sworn on a stack of dusty books that Joubert had an appointment with Duval the very same day the mask was stolen. “I was a sometime customer,” replied Duval. “Interesting,”
