“Madame, I am telling you that there is no record of a search in this file. Now that we are investigating a homicide, it is a necessary procedure, but we have not done it yet.”

“The concierge said it was the police,” said Lucy, standing her ground.

“She was clearly misinformed.”

“Well, if it wasn’t the police, who was it?” asked Lucy.

“We will endeavor to find out,” said the proc, “but in the meantime I am warning you, Madame Stone, that it is a very serious matter to interfere in a police matter. I suggest you limit yourself to sightseeing while you are here in France.”

“I certainly will,” said Lucy, struggling with the idea that Chef Larry’s murderer, or murderers, had been in the apartment and had rifled through their things. Why? Quite a few moments passed, her mind busy trying to figure out what this meant and whether they were in danger, before she realized the proc had fallen silent and was making notes in the file. “Um, pardon me, but may I go?” she asked.

“Will tomorrow afternoon—let’s say three o’clock—be convenient for the search?”

Lucy didn’t feel as if she really had much choice in the matter. “Okay,” she said.

The proc didn’t look up from the form she was filling in with a slim gold pen but dismissed her with a wave of the hand. “You may go.”

“Before I go, I think I ought to mention that someone’s been following us,” said Lucy. “Kind of a rough-looking fellow.”

“You are very observant,” said the proc with an amused smile. “I believe the police have been keeping an eye on your group. It’s for your own safety, of course.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped; she didn’t know how to respond. Should she be grateful for the protection or appalled at the intrusion? And was it even true? The proc had said only that she believed the police were watching them.

“Did you order this surveillance?” asked Lucy. “And on what grounds? Was there a warrant? In the U.S. police have to go to a judge—”

“Madame Stone,” interrupted the proc, “might I remind you that you are not in the USA. You are in France, and we have our own way of doing things.”

“Right,” said Lucy, deciding that nothing was to be gained by irritating the proc. It was definitely time to go. “Good day to you,” she said, heading for the door and not looking back.