As I approached the Île de la Cité a great bell tolled, ringing the Angelus for midday. I suspected it must come from Notre-Dame and longed to see that church for myself. But I had no time to play sightseer and besides, I needed to steer clear of any sights that might attract tourists like Justin Hartley and his family. As if in answer to the great bell of the cathedral other bells took up the midday chime across the city until the air reverberated with their sound. It was a while now since I had lived in a Catholic country and the sound of the Angelus stirred something in me—a memory of the safer, simpler days of my childhood when the church played a big part in my life.

I crossed the river to the island and hesitated as I approached the Prefecture of Police. Should I perhaps seek out Inspector Henri and file an official missing persons report? Or… and here I hesitated, not wanting to consider the thought that lurked at the back of my mind… ask if any bodies brought into local morgues might match the description of my friends. I approached the guard on duty then turned away again. One more day, I told myself. I’ll give it one more day. At least I now knew where to come.

The great cacophony of bells had died away, leaving the sound lingering in the air—except for one small bell that continued to ring somewhere close by on my left. It seemed to be coming from inside the courtyard of the Palais de Justice. Suddenly I was filled with a deep desire to be in a church again. My past experiences hadn’t been positive, but that had nothing to do with God—more with bad priests. I followed the sound until I came to what was obviously a thin, tall church attached to the stout walls of the palace. I found an entrance, went in, and stood, mouth agape. The walls were entirely composed of tall stained-glass windows rising as if to heaven. At the far end was an exquisite rose window and as I stood there the sun must have peeped between clouds because stripes of colored light illuminated the floor. At the high altar a priest was saying mass while a few devout souls knelt in the front pews.