It was the Hôtel de Notre Dame in the Rue Maître Albert on the Left Bank. Agatha frowned. ‘Doesn’t sound very grand. I thought he would have taken her to the George V or somewhere like that. Leave it with me,’ said Agatha. ‘I’ll think of something.’

When Sharon had left, Agatha found Sylvan’s card. Perhaps he might be in Paris. She dialled and heard that now familiar voice on the other end of the line.

She explained the situation to Sylvan and asked, ‘Do you know this hotel?’

‘It is actually a modestly priced but very good hotel indeed. But if he has the money and is not taking her somewhere superb, then he has done it before. He may have a petite amie on the side.’

‘A what?’

‘A mistress.’

‘Can you do anything?’ asked Agatha.

‘But certainly. Your little lady will be returned to you intact.’

‘Have you heard anything about Bert’s murder?’

‘Must go.’

Toni was having second thoughts. As they got into a taxi at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, the day was sunny. Suddenly Perry looked much older. But she convinced herself she was suffering from virginal nerves. Why on earth should she feel nervous when her friends leaped in and out of bed without a care in the world?

But her spirits rose as the taxi moved along the quays and she saw Notre Dame rearing up over the Seine. The hotel came as something of a shock to Toni. She knew Perry was very rich and had assumed it would be a grand hotel. Certainly the Hôtel de Notre Dame at a bend in the street looked very French and very pretty.

The motherly-looking woman at the desk checked the registrations and raised her eyebrows. ‘But you cancelled the reservation, Mr Stanton,’ she exclaimed.

‘No, I did not,’ said Perry hotly. ‘Oh, well, give us another room.’

‘I don’t have one. That room was taken almost immediately after the cancellation.’

‘Look, you incompetent fool –’

‘Monsieur,’ said the woman in perfect English, ‘I assure you I am neither a fool nor incompetent. In any case, the room would not have been suitable. It had a double bed, and you surely do not want to sleep with your daughter.’

‘Let’s get out of here,’ snarled Perry. Toni began to feel miserable. She had never really worried that much before about the age difference. ‘I know a place up in Saint-Germain-des-Prés,’ said Perry. He strode angrily ahead, pulling his small suitcase behind him. Toni hitched her satchel over her shoulder and followed him.

They had just reached Place Maubert when a tall woman with a child barred their way. ‘So here you are,’ she said. ‘You might have phoned me.’

Perry tried to push past her. ‘I’ve never seen you before in my life,’ he shouted.