for six months.”
“Me too, I think –”
“Don’t talk,” she said, climbing back on top of him. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
Chapter 24
THE SOMBER OUTLINE of the Arc de Triomphe rose into the glassy night sky as Leopold, Mary, and Sophie clambered out of the taxi and stepped out onto the Champs-Élysées; Paris’ answer to New York’s Fifth Avenue. Despite the late hour, the streets were packed with diners and partygoers, and the manicured trees that lined the sidewalks were lit up with golden lights that bathed the entire neighborhood in a warm glow. The effect was one that Leopold associated with sitting too close to a Christmas tree.
“Where to now?” asked Mary, handing a fistful of change to the driver.
“My contact Harris arranged for the concierge to leave a set of keys for us. Thankfully, we pay them enough that they don’t feel the need to ask questions. It’s this way. Follow me.” He strode out toward the other side of the road, weaving in and out of the slow moving traffic. Once safely across, he led the way toward an ornate apartment building, set back from the road and positioned above an expensive-looking restaurant.
“Wait a minute,” Mary called out. “We’re supposed to just waltz in there looking like this?” She pointed at Leopold’s shoulder, where a crimson blood stain had started to spread through his clothes.
“Normally, I’d agree,” he said. “But don’t worry, Harris has arranged everything.” He set off again at a brisk pace. “It’s quicker just to show you.”
He took them past the main entrance, ignoring the immaculately dressed doorman, and ducked around the corner where the crowds were noticeably thinner and the lighting a little more subdued. Pulling out Sophie’s cell phone, he checked the email message one more time.
“This way.” He ducked through a gate and stepped into a deserted courtyard. Half a dozen industrial-sized dumpsters lined the walls and there was a distinct smell of rotting food and grease in the air. A dim halogen light cast a gloomy haze over the scene.
“Not exactly what I expected,” said Mary. “But I guess everyone’s trash smells the same.”
Leopold walked toward a rusted metal door at the other end of the courtyard and reached for the handle. “If everything’s gone as planned this should be unlocked.” He pulled the handle and felt the latch click open with a satisfying clunk .
“Finally,” said Sophie. “It’s about time you figured out how to use doors.”
“Shh. Keep quiet and follow me. We’re going in through the back.” He stepped into the corridor. The hallway was empty, silent except for the distant sound of a busy Parisian kitchen.
He pressed on. From ahead came a rising cacophony of metallic noise, steel against steel, and loud voices. A heady aroma filled his nose, a mixture of garlic and herbs. Late service was in full swing. “We’re close,” he said, turning to face the others. “All we have to do is get through the kitchens to the service elevator, and then ride up to the sixth floor. The keys have been hidden outside the apartment, ready for us to collect.”
“And we’re suppose to sneak through a kitchen full of chefs without being spotted?” asked Mary.
“These guys will be so busy concentrating on their work, they won’t notice us. If anyone asks, we’re the health inspectors.”
They reached the end of the hallway and were greeted by a set of double doors, designed to swing open and allow the serving staff easy passage. He felt a blast of warm air hit his face as he pushed through, taking a second to get his bearings in the chaos that greeted him.
The kitchens were a galley design, relatively narrow but long enough that the dozen chefs each had plenty of space to go about their work. The aromas from the myriad of dishes was overwhelming, and Leopold suddenly remembered he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Setting a brisk pace, he headed
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