“Good girl.” He leaned forward as if to kiss me, then looked into my eyes and disappeared into the building. I stood on the steps with the wind blowing in my face, wanting with all my heart to call him back. Then I jammed my hat down on my head and forced myself down the steps and started walking. I knew I should go home as he had told me, but I also knew that only I had a chance of finding Jeanine, so I made my way back up the hill to begin my search in earnest. The streets to the left of the boulevard were lively with students and housewives shopping for the night’s meal, which reassured me that I was relatively safe. And on the way up the hill I had developed a plan. I would go into every café and bar and shop. If I got a flicker of recognition from anyone, I’d tell them I was Jeanine’s cousin, looking for her. If nobody recognized me, I’d ask for directions to the Roman amphitheater and act the part of a lost English tourist.

I put my plan into action at the café on the corner where the bicyclist had called out Jeanine’s name. No reaction but several helpful patrons came out and seemed as if they wanted to direct me in person to the amphitheater, which was quite in the wrong direction. I had to wait until they’d gone back inside again before I could sprint back across the street and continue my quest in the right direction. I went into the next shop and then the next. Then the next street, and the one after it. After a while I felt a prickling at the back of my neck, as if I were being followed. I spun around but saw nobody that I recognized among the passing pedestrians. I continued, but the feeling didn’t go away. I had almost decided that I was being foolish to be hunting down a killer alone, when a young man, dressed in a shabby jacket and wearing a student’s cap, gave me a glance as he walked past me, then a rapid double take. I turned and ran to catch up with him.

“Excuse me,” I said, “but I noticed that you thought you recognized me.”

“My apologies, mademoiselle,” he said, “but you resemble a young woman I know.”

“Would her name be Jeanine?”

“Ah, so you know her too? You two are related, perhaps? The resemblance between you is strong.”

“Yes, we’re cousins,” I said, “and I’ve been trying to find her.”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s a little early but she may already be at the club.”

“The club?”

“The Black Cat. She is one of the dancers there. You knew that, didn’t you?”

“Oh, of course. I heard that she was now working at a club.”