Murder in Belleville

Tuesday Morning

AIMÉE WOKE UP WITH a start to pounding on the door and Miles Davis barking.

Alone.

A sheet of papyrus was pinned to the pillow with “Charged your phone—try to keep out of trouble, Yves” written on it.

She’d fallen into bed with him again. Sometimes she amazed herself.

The pounding got louder. She pulled on a suede button-down shirt from the chair, grabbed a pair of black velvet jeans from her armoire, stuck the cell phone in her pocket, and stumbled barefoot to the door.

“Mademoiselle Leduc?” said a smooth-faced plainclothes flic. His clear eyes and matter-of-fact expression contrasted with those of his partner, older and heavier, who paced the chill landing with a sour expression. His exhalations showed in breathy puffs. Both wore suits: cheap ones.

Her heart pounded. Maybe this was a bad dream. She wanted to shut the door in his face, go back to bed.

“You are Mademoiselle Leduc?”

“I think so, but after coffee I’ll know for sure,” she said, scratching her head. “And you gentlemen might be …?”

“Sergeant Martaud of the Twentieth Arrondissement,” he said. “But of course we’re happy to accommodate you at the Commissariat de Police.”

Her words caught in her dry throat. A sinking feeling came over her. The talisman poked out of her backpack on the claw-foot marble table in plain view. She reached out and slipped it under her blue faux-fur coat which was lying on the chair.

The sergeant opened his suit jacket with a flourish. In one fluid movement he removed his badge from a vest pocket, displayed his photo ID, then slipped it back in. She figured he practiced this in front of a mirror before work.

“Identities are so important,” Sergeant Martaud said.

“Sergeant Martaud, I’m particular about my coffee.” she managed a smile. “Almost obsessive, my colleague tells me, so you’d need a warrant to get me to Belleville without my customary cup.”

His sour-faced partner returned the smile and waved a piece of paper. “Matter of fact, Mademoiselle, I happened to bring one with me.”