Anna was crouched on the ground beside Pepe’s body. She was shaking with shock. At least thank God she wasn’t screaming. Édith had her arms around her.

Thomas quickly inspected poor Pepe. His small body was a crumpled mess. His neck was twisted at a strange angle, a pool of blood already forming in front of his open mouth. He reminded Thomas of a baby bird that has fallen out of a high nest. Wherever the spirit of his cheerful friend had gone, it was already somewhere far, far away.

“Édith,” he asked, “does Monsieur Ney have a telephone?” He knew there were only a few thousand people in all Paris who had one, but he thought the lawyer might be one of them.

“I think so.”

“Go to him as fast as you can. Tell him what happened, and that Monsieur Eiffel must be informed at once. Also the police. He will know what to do. Then you stay with your aunt. I shall wait here with Anna.” He reached into his pocket and gave her money. “If you walk fast you can reach him in less than half an hour. But if you see a cab, take it. And don’t say anything to anyone, even the police, until you get to Ney.”

“If he’s out?”

“Your aunt will help you. Try to find him. We have to tell the police, but it’s essential Monsieur Eiffel knows at once.”

Édith didn’t like to leave Anna, but she agreed to go. As she left, Thomas kissed her and repeated quietly, “Don’t come back.”

As she left, he wondered if anyone on the bridge had seen Pepe fall. They might have. But they might not. If they had, the police would probably arrive quite soon. That couldn’t be helped. But at least he’d done his best to protect the two people who mattered: Édith and Monsieur Eiffel.

Then he sat down, put his arm around Anna, and waited.

He waited an hour and a half. It seemed an eternity. Then a group of people all arrived together. Monsieur Eiffel and Ney and a small man with a neatly trimmed mustache were closely followed by a uniformed policeman, a young man with a camera apparatus and two men with a stretcher.

While Eiffel moved slightly apart, Ney spoke.

“As you see, Inspector,” he addressed the man with the mustache, “my client awaits you exactly as I said he would. And this young lady I am sure is the friend of the unfortunate young man.”

The inspector glanced at Thomas briefly, moved to Pepe’s body, gave it the briefest inspection, glanced up at the tower and nodded to the young man with the camera, who was already setting up a tripod to take photographs.

Meanwhile Ney had gone to Thomas’s side.

“You have shown intelligence by your actions, young man,” he said in a low voice. “Now listen carefully. Answer the questions that the inspector puts to you, and answer them very briefly. That is the only information he wishes to know. Add nothing. You understand? Nothing.”