“Well, this is all very interesting,” said Bill, “but it doesn’t explain why two young men, certainly French now but of Egyptian heritage, would ransack our apartment, does it?”

“No,” agreed Richard. “It’s usually drugs. They steal stuff to sell to get money for drugs.” He paused. “Maybe they were acting on orders from Sadek, stealing stuff that he could sell for cash to finance the movement.”

“You interviewed this Sadek fellow, right?” asked Ted. “Do you think he’d do something like that? Encourage two young men to steal for him?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Richard. “I did get the impression that he runs a tight ship. He’s very authoritarian,” said Richard.

“It’s a moot point, anyway,” said Lucy. “Nothing’s missing. They didn’t steal anything.”

“Well, that is odd,” said Richard, signaling for the check. “I suppose you could chalk it up to youthful high jinks.”

Bill and Ted both reached for their wallets, but Richard insisted on paying the entire bill, saying he’d invited them and it was his treat. “My pleasure,” he said as they thanked him effusively for what they all knew was a very expensive dinner.

When they got back to the apartment, Bill announced that a big meal always made him sleepy, and got busy shooing the others off to their rooms and unfolding the sofa bed, wasting no time climbing in and settling down for the night. Soon he was snoring away. Lucy, however, felt far too full to attempt sleep and headed down the long hall to the bathroom, planning to have a nice long soak.

The tatty old bathroom was her favorite room in the apartment, and not only because of the previous day’s romantic interlude. She loved the big old-fashioned tub and the cracked tiles and the colorful glass panels in the door. In her opinion, the heated towel bar was an invention second only to bagged salad in improving the quality of life. But even the relaxing bath wasn’t enough to make her sleepy, so she decided to call Elizabeth. It was only a little after ten, and she was sure Elizabeth would be awake. It was Saturday night, after all. She hoped Sylvie had turned up and Elizabeth wasn’t worrying about her.

“No, she hasn’t come home, but I’m not worried,” Elizabeth insisted in reply to her mother’s concerned inquiry. “She’s done this before. She isn’t scheduled to work this weekend, so she’s probably out on the town. I’m not her mother, and she doesn’t tell me where she goes or who she goes with.”

“But don’t you think it’s funny she didn’t say good-bye to us?” asked Lucy. “It was kind of rude, and she seems so polite.”