We ran onto the bridge, but I hadn’t taken more than a few steps before I saw that we’d made a bad mistake. The bridge was closed. There was a tall barrier running across the middle of it with a MEN AT WORK sign—but no sign at all of any men actually at work. They had left their tools, though. There was a wheelbarrow, a pile of steel girders, a cement mixer . . . even if we could have climbed over the fence it would have been hard to get through.

“We’ve got to go back!” I shouted.

But it was too late. Bastille and Lavache had already arrived at the entrance to the bridge and were moving more slowly, both of them smiling. They knew they had us trapped. Lavache had his knife out. It was difficult to hear with the noise of the traffic, but I think he was humming.

We couldn’t go back. We couldn’t climb the fence. If we jumped over the side, we’d probably drown. This was only March and the water would be ice-cold. Just sixty feet separated us from the two Frenchmen. There was nothing we could do.

And that was when I saw the boat. It was what they called a Bateau Mouche, one of those long, elegant boats with glass windows and ceilings that carry tourists up and down the river throughout the day and night. This one was full of people enjoying a dinner and dance. I heard the music drifting up to us. They were playing a waltz, the “Blue Danube.” A strange choice considering they were on the Seine. Already the boat was slipping under the bridge. Another few seconds and it would have disappeared down toward the Eiffel Tower.

“Jump, Tim!” I ordered.

“Right, Nick!” Tim jumped up and down on the spot.

“No. I mean—jump off the bridge!”

“What?” Tim looked at me as if I were mad.

Bastille was only five steps away from us now. I ran to the edge of the bridge, hoisted myself up, and jumped. Tim did the same, a few seconds behind me. I caught a glimpse of Bastille, staring at us, his face twisted between anger and amazement. Then I was falling through space with the river, the bridge, and the boat corkscrewing around me. I thought I might have mistimed it but then my feet hit something and I crashed onto the deck. I was lucky. I had hit the front of the boat, where there was a sheet of tarpaulin stretched out amid a tangle of ropes. It broke my fall.