“Sonny and Katarina are going to order room service and have a romantic night here at the hotel.”
“You mean it’s just you and me, without a chaperone?”
She smiled. “It sure is, Mister.”
“What if I try to kiss you, or worse?”
“I guess I’ll just have to let you.”
“Well, let’s get going then!”
“Do you want to take the car, or just stroll and see where we end up?” We’d kept one of the vehicles and returned the other. How many French pieces of crap did a man need, after all?
“What do you say we take a stroll down the boulevard, toward the Opera House? Then we’ll come back or go somewhere from there. We can get a cab if we need one.”
“Okay. You’re not worried about Boon sending someone else, like earlier?”
“I think it’s too high profile now. If he’s heard about the failed attempt, and there isn’t any reason to think he hasn’t, he’ll figure we’re on our guard, maybe even with police shadowing us. It’s too risky now. Both shooters died, but what if one had survived and pointed us at him? I wanted to take precautions today, just in case.” I took her hand in mine. “Let’s just relax and have a nice time tonight, while we can. We are in Paris, after all, the city of lovers.”
She walked over and pulled my head against her soft belly. She ran her fingers through my hair and whispered. “Let’s be like lovers tonight, Seth.”
“Okay,” I said quietly, giving her waist a squeeze. “As long as you understand it can only be a brief affair. I love the girl I’m married to, and would never leave her.”
She leaned over and I felt her lips kiss the top of my head. Then she slid her face over and kissed my ear, still holding my head against her belly. She whispered, “I’d have to come find you, because you’re my everything, Seth Halliday.”
I squeezed her harder, and it was an hour before we headed out into the Paris night.
Thirty-Four
A delicate scent hung in the air as we strolled down the long boulevard toward the Opera House holding hands. Paris had come to life in a very special way, the lights of the Eiffel Tower a gentle reminder that nothing mattered once that starry blanket covered the great city, except love. Love was the reason Paris existed. For those lonely in their soul, their heart a barren wasteland starving for nourishment, she offered hope. For those like Caroline and I, lucky enough to have found each other and begin the healing process to repair our brokenness, Paris was a bastion to love’s transforming power. A year ago I could not have pictured myself holding hands with someone as nice as Caroline, as lovely and unpretentious. She was pretty, but her soul made her beautiful. I loved everything about her, including her damage.
I thought of Sonny and Katarina, and wondered had we not been here, in Paris, if Sonny would have shared his brokenness with her so that they could move forward. And then I was struck with guilt, because there were doors I had closed off to Caroline. She knew about Escobar, and about the girl I’d loved and lost to heroin. The door I’d kept closed was a different door, one when opened would reveal secrets I had kept about others for whom I cared a great deal. Secrets I could only share with someone who had my absolute trust.
I guided Caroline toward a park bench beneath a blossoming cherry tree. As others shopping or heading somewhere walked past, I slowly told her Sonny’s story. I was not betraying him by telling her, but rather excluding her by not telling her. I did not ever want her to be excluded.
I told her about Katarina on the balcony and how she’d been ready to leave Sonny because of her own brokenness; damage I also had, but which Caroline was healing. I saw in her eyes sympathy for Sonny, but also gratitude and love, because I had shared this most heartbreaking and sensitive story with her, and no one else. We kissed like lovers and she whispered how much she loved me for telling her. She didn’t write it down, because she said it wasn’t the kind of thing she could ever forget. I knew it was true, because however hard we try, it is the damage we never forget.
We sat for some time afterward, just relaxing and enjoying the heartbeat of this great city. It was still early and traffic along the boulevard was steady, as was the foot traffic. A girl of perhaps twenty wearing a pretty red dress rode by on her bicycle and smiled. After a while we got up and continued our stroll.
When we finally reached the end of the long boulevard we stood admiring the majesty of the Paris Opera House, which had come to life beneath the lights of Paris. The Palais Garnier or Opera Garnier is probably the most famous opera house in the world, if for no other reason than it is the setting for the famous, Phantom of the Opera.
I had seen photos so I knew how opulent and grand the building was inside, but it was just as grand and imposing outside. Its graceful and stunning roof and facade sculptures were odes to poetry and music, drama and dance. Aimé Millet, Charles Gumery, Jean-Joseph Perraud and Jean-Baptiste Careaux among others had contributed to architect Charles Garnier’s vision.
Bronze busts of Beethoven and Mozart watched those entering from high above. She was as much a symbol of Paris as Notre Dame Cathedral or the Eiffel Tower. It was used primarily for ballet today. Caroline and I did not have to care for opera or ballet to admire the majesty of the nearly two-thousand seat monument to culture. Caroline, especially, seemed awestruck. Opéra de Paris had stood entertaining people since 1875, and we could feel it as we stood there. You could almost hear the whispers of women in finery going up her steps while holding up their long dresses in one hand, and a gentleman’s hand in the other. With society decaying so quickly now, not just in the USA but all over the world, one had to wonder if future generations would have enough respect and appreciation for history to keep her.
We sat on the steps a while, just to say we had, then crossed the boulevard. The traffic had remained steady, but appeared to be lessening as we sauntered along taking it all in from the other side. A nice gentle breeze intermittently kept us comfortable. Once I placed me arm around Caroline’s waist and we stood kissing for a very long time as cars drove by. A couple walked around us, not batting an eye at our display of affection.
We were between buildings and my back was to the street, otherwise, I’d never have seen the movement in the shadows. It wasn’t an alley really, it was too narrow for that. He was trying to crouch down behind some small trash cans next to a side door to one of the buildings. A jewelry store.
I whispered in Caroline’s ear, whose back was to the alley, “When I say, ‘now’ I want you to start running toward the hotel, as quickly as you can. Don’t look back. Duck into the restaurant we ate at last night. It’s crowded and you’ll be safe.”
Her eyes got big, her face apprehensive, but something similar had happened before, which helped steel her for the task. She whispered, “Be careful, Seth.”
“I will.” I kissed her as if unaware that he was raising his arm, aiming. I whispered the signal.
Caroline wasted no time. I knew every fiber in her being told her to turn and look when she heard the gunfire, but she did as I told her. The shot missed me because as she’d broken free of my arms I had dived to my right. It put me out of harm’s way, the bullet whistling past my shoulder and shattering glass behind me as a passing car had the misfortune to get in the way.
The disadvantage the dive gave me was it put me at an angle where I couldn’t see him or fire my weapon because the opening was so narrow. I heard a garbage can overturn and then footfalls, quick and constant. He was running away. I turned back toward the street. No one had been hurt but a man and woman in their fifties were out of the car, traffic backing up behind them. The man was cursing in French, pointing at his driver-side door window, which had shattered on impact.
I ducked into the opening between buildings. He was far ahead, and then he darted to his left, around the end of a long building behind the jewelry store. I took the corner carefully, but didn’t need to. He was headed for the park. It was a long way, but if he made it, I’d lose him. All
I could tell was that he was tall, probably six foot. His long strides made it hard to keep up with him, but I had incentive. I didn’t want to lose the bastard. It had been Caroline’s back he was aiming at, willing to dispose of her to get to me.
I managed to gain a little on him, because he kept checking to see if I was gaining. I couldn’t make out his face in the dark, only that he was dark-haired. When he hit the park he surprised me by darting to the left, back toward the street. Then I saw the car. It was parked across the street from the hotel. A black Citröen.
I hadn’t gained enough to prevent him from getting away. I had to take a chance. I put on a burst and ran faster than I’d ever run. Then I stopped on a dime, rested my wrists on my knee, held my breath, and took aim.
He should have left the Citröen unlocked. When he slowed to take out his keys — because he couldn’t get to them while his legs were high stepping it — I fired. He reached back and grabbed his leg, and when he wheeled to fire back, I fired again. The second slug hit him square in the chest and he fell backward spread-eagle, like he was trying to make a snow angel in the grass.
I walked up slowly, gun ready. But I knew he was dead. When I got to him, I found his ID, and did a little cussing of my own. I should have figured it out. Boon had a pattern. He’d paid old Jerry for Holly rather than kill him. And then he’d paid off René Baumé. There had been a reason he’d never interviewed Amélie, and it wasn’t laziness. He’d been paid to look the other way by Boon.
I opened the door to his car. I saw the headphones and a few other little gadgets and knew our rooms had been bugged. He’d probably done it while we were all out earlier in the day. That’s how he’d known he could lay for me between the hotel and the Garnier. If I hadn’t stopped to kiss Caroline, he could have waited for us to pass and shot me in the back. Thank God for Caroline’s pretty smile and soft behind.
I’d heard the sirens but they passed right by, heading down to where the first shot had taken place. The man and woman whose window had been shattered had of course phoned the police.
I walked over to Baumé and rifled through his jacket. I found his phone and dialed Athea. She picked up right away.
“This is Seth. I need you to listen. I’m sorry, but it’ll be a lot easier if I’m not interrupted.”
“Go ahead.” Alert, all business.
“I’ve just killed an ex-cop. Baumé. He’s dirty. He tried to kill Caroline and myself a few minutes ago. She’s at the restaurant across the street from the hotel waiting for me. That’s where I’m headed. His car and body are directly across the street from the hotel. Police will find our rooms have been bugged, and the listening device is in his car. He knew Caroline and I were walking along the boulevard and he laid in wait for me. I’m leaving his phone here with the body. I suspect either on this phone, or maybe on his home phone, there will be a foreign call received. Probably from Ecuador, but since Boon is smart, it’s probably untraceable other than the country. A pre-paid or something. Baumé may have received a bank to bank transfer of funds as well. I’m not certain. Maybe he was just covering his own hide because he’d taken Boon’s money to look the other way on Holly Carmichael’s murder. Or someone’s murder. I’m not certain yet who was killed, but I have a meeting this evening with Amélie and I intend to keep it. I can’t keep it if I’m in jail. I’ve got a couple of hours, but that’s all. I have to make that meeting. If this ex-cop Baumé was in contact with Boon, Boon might already know about her. If Baumé received a call from him, or had an outgoing call to him after Baumé heard me on the phone speaking to her, she could be in danger. If there’s been no contact in the past, say two and a half to three hours, she’s in the clear. But I still need to make that meeting. Use any clout you have, use Laura’s name, tell them Fernandez will be very unhappy, whatever. But don’t let them keep me beyond half past eleven.”
There was no hesitation when she said, “You’ll be released in time for your meeting, if they wish to speak with you at all. I somehow doubt it. The leverage of Laura Garner holding a news conference to announce that a member of the French Police at the time was on the take, and covered up a murder with implications to her sister’s disappearance, is all the leverage I’ll need.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. I guess that’s why you’re an attorney and I’m just a shamus.”
“Shamus? Oh, yes. Well, at least everyone isn’t after the black bird, Mr. Spade, the stuff dreams are made of.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re the stuff dreams are made of, Athea.”
“You are much too sweet for your own good. Now go have dinner with your wife. I will expedite the phone record information with the police and get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. I’ll get to work now.”
She hung up and I made one quick call to Sonny. He picked up on the fourth ring.
“What’s up, man? I’m kinda busy.”
“I hope you and Katarina aren’t doing the monkey dance or anything, because someone has you on tape. The place is bugged.”
“Yeah, I do have kind of a reputation, man. Now they’ve taken to listening in, trying to steal all my secrets.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what they wanted.”
I was smiling as I hung up. I tossed the phone onto Baumé’s body and began walking slowly toward the restaurant.
Thirty-Five
Caroline had been waiting anxiously in the foyer of the restaurant and launched herself like a missile into my arms. I held her for at least thirty seconds. For a moment, just as she had thrown herself into my arms, I’d seen in Caroline’s eyes something that made me think of Cheryl, as she’d been thrown from the plane into free fall. It hadn’t lasted long but Caroline had been on tenterhooks until I’d come through that door.
“Let’s see if we can get a table, and then I’ll tell you everything that happened.”
She nodded, breathing easier now. She had confidence in me, and in my ability to handle whatever came along, but she knew being wrong just once could shatter our future, the life we were only beginning to make together.
We were lucky to get a table. The restaurant had filled up while Caroline waited with bated breath to discover my fate. We ordered the same meal Katarina had guided us to earlier because we weren’t certain about anything else. Caroline was much more adventurous than me, but even she wasn’t ready to throw darts at the menu and hope for the best. We played it safe.
I took her hand in mine as I told her everything that had happened. I played down how close the shot had come to me, and how he’d grown impatient because by sheer chance we’d chosen that spot to stop and kiss. Caroline didn’t need to know that if I hadn’t caught his movement in the shadows and had her make a break for it, we might both be dead. Maybe I’d have got him because of the delay after he’d shot Caroline, but what good would it have been to save my own life but lose her?
I avoided such theorizing, and minimized the danger of the chase, getting right into my discovery of who it had been, and the obvious conclusion drawn that Boon had paid off Baumé all those years ago.
“So that’s why he never questioned this Amélie, and ruled it a suicide? But how did Boone know about the waitress, Seth?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say he didn’t. But Boon knew about the knife wound because he’d put it there. So he hedged his bets. Baumé probably took it from there. Unfortunately, my poking around may have pointed him to Amélie, but only of Baumé has told Boon about her. I’m hoping he was simply covering his own tracks.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve called Athea already. Hopefully our dinner won’t get interrupted. She seemed reasonably confident that it wouldn’t be a problem untangling me from questioning.”
As it had been the previous time, the food was good, if too scant for my hunger. White linen and fine china, the elegant glass chandeliers overhead, and the buzz of conversations in French going on around us gave us a sense
of dining in Paris. It would have made a nice punctuation to the evening if I had not known there was much left to discover.
Caroline knew this, too, and we touched hands as often as we could while we ate and talked about where we’d go first to scope out a home. We were really into discussing the possibilities when the maître d’ came over to ask if I was Seth Halliday. When I answered wearily that I was, expecting there to be cops in the foyer waiting for me, I was informed that I had a phone call. He gave me the option of taking it at the table or up front. I chose the table.
“Seth? Athea, here. You’re in the clear. The Investigative Magistrate has ordered no questioning of you be undertaken regarding the shooting. That order is of course dependent on the facts you’ve given me matching up with statements gathered from witnesses in the street and physical evidence gathered from the actual crime scene across from the hotel.”
“Thanks. You’re aces, doll face. I may have to give you a raise.” Caroline was smiling and squinting, wondering why I was talking with my lips clenched.
“You’re the real goods, Sam,” Athea shot back quickly.
In a more normal voice I asked, “Any luck with the phone?”
“Good news. Nothing on the cell at the scene. And his home phone records show no incoming or outgoing calls outside of Paris. Only two calls in the past two days, actually, one yesterday, one this morning. Both are old drinking buddies from his days on the job. One of them is still actively serving. Nothing out of the ordinary, he calls them every week or two.”
That was good news, especially for Amélie Chabert. It hadn’t been Boon who put him onto me. It had probably been a phone call to an old buddy on the force, one who let leak that I had an appointment with Benoît, and the official file that would point to his concealing a murder. Baumé had been covering his own hide, trying to avoid charges being brought against him. In light of Boon not having contacted Baumé, but sending the shooters from South America instead, it appeared that Boon didn’t even know about Amélie, as I’d initially feared. Now that Baumé was dead, I wanted to keep it that way.
The Long Gray Goodbye: A Seth Halliday Novel Page 21