I was now hot, tired, and frustrated and the last place I wanted to go was the Ritz. I was sorely tempted to go back to Miss Cassatt’s and then go to see Inspector Henri at the Sûreté and tell him what I knew about Ellie and what I suspected. But I couldn’t do it. In spite of the way she had tried to use me I was still rather fond of her, and I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I suspected she’d lie to me again but I had become quite good at recognizing a lie. If she didn’t want to tell me the truth, I’d have to go to the police. I’d tell her that too.

Wearily I trudged back across the Seine at the Pont de la Corcorde and then along the Rue de Rivoli, grateful for the colonnade and its deep shade, until I stood eventually in the Place Vendôme, admiring the column and the graceful sweep of buildings beyond it. I took several deep breaths before I dared to enter the Ritz. I was conscious that I now looked sweaty and red-faced and my hat was probably askew. Indeed the doorman, not the same one as on the occasion of my last visit, did eye me with suspicion and ask, “May I assist you, mademoiselle?”

I told him curtly that it was “madame” and I had come to visit my friend Miss Hatcher who was currently a guest. He gave a perfunctory nod and admitted me. I looked around carefully before I entered the lobby. The last thing I wanted at the moment was to bump into Justin Hartley. But the lobby was deserted apart from an elderly couple who were studying a map at one of the glass-topped tables and a fashionably dressed woman who was standing at the front counter. “But I don’t see how you have the nerve to charge me for that!” Her voice carried across the hotel lobby.

I went up to the front desk and asked for Miss Hatcher.

“I will call her room, madame,” he said. “Whom shall I say wishes to see her?”

“Mrs. Sullivan from New York. It’s a matter of great urgency.”

He tried an internal telephone then shook his head. “She does not appear to be in her room, madame.”

“Is she perhaps in the suite of the family with whom she is staying?”

“The Sloane family, no? I will try for you.” He did, then shook his head once more. “Maybe they are in the restaurant. It is almost time for luncheon and Americans like to eat very early.”