Murder in Montmartre

Tuesday Late Afternoon

AIMÉE’S CONNECTION at the police judiciare, Léo Frot, had moved to the Finance Ministry. And he wouldn’t return her calls. So she had to take a chance and try to access STIC, Système de Traitment de l’Information Fichier Central, the intranet police computer system; she would have to move fast and find Laure’s file.

From her vantage point, a table in the back of a bistro filled with early diners, she observed the crowd. This was a haunt of men and a few women wearing the badge of the DTI, Direction des Transmissions Informatiques, the computer division that was located across the street at 7, rue Nélaton where the DST, Direction de la Surveillance du Territoire was housed. They wore street clothes, no uniforms. A plastic holder was clipped to each jacket bearing an ID card with the blue Ministry crest and the employee’s name. Such a card would be simple to duplicate and would get her past the entry guards. Once inside she’d have to do some “social engineering,” as René called it. Faking it expressed it better. The graveyard shift, when there was minimal staff, would be the best time to try.

She finished the dregs of her espresso, paid, and fetched her coat from the rack. It hung under all the others, as she’d planned, since she’d arrived early. By the time she found it, she had memorized the badge of one Simone Teil, #3867 Dept AL4A, clipped to a black raincoat whose owner sat at a nearby table. She drew a sketch of the badge crest and design on the white paper tablecloth. Now she put that piece of paper in her pocket and left.