He looked concerned. Obviously the word stirred a memory of a man he hadn’t seen recently. “Dada will be so proud when he sees Liam can stand and talk and maybe even walk soon.” As I said the words I felt a terrible tug at my heart. How long before we saw Daniel again? Was he safe? When would I hear from him?

After I had taken care of Liam’s needs and had a quick breakfast of croissant and apricot jam I changed into a pair of Sid’s trousers, tucked my unruly hair into a beret that Sid had bought as a souvenir, and set off, carrying a stepladder that Celeste used to dust the picture rails. I didn’t think the outfit would convince anybody that I was a young male gardener, but in fact I didn’t pass anyone as I walked down the Rue François Premier. Mary had surmised that Parisians were either at mass or sleeping in late on Sunday mornings and this seemed to be the case. I reached the circle with the fountain at its center and made my way to the little garden outside Reynold Bryce’s window, unlatched the gate, and slipped inside. Still nobody was in sight, unless someone was observing me from an upstairs window. That thought had never occurred to me before—had the police checked who lived in Reynold Bryce’s building? Did he get on well with his neighbors? Did he get on too well with a neighbor’s wife?

I set up the stepladder behind the lilac bush so that I would be unseen by all but the most prying eyes. I was glad that the shutters on the downstairs windows were hooked open. One less step to gain entry. I was about to go up the stepladder to the most likely of the windows when I heard the light click of footsteps approaching. Immediately I turned my back away from the street and pretended to be pruning the lilac bush. The footsteps stopped.

“Shame on you,” a scratchy voice said in French. I half-turned to see a shrunken old woman in that fearsome black favored by French widows. She clutched a missal and wore a lace mantilla, proving she had just been to mass. She wagged a finger at me. “It is wrong to work on the Lord’s day, young man. If your master makes you do it, then shame on him.”

Then she set off again, light feet tapping on the deserted sidewalk.