Parisian Affair (15 page)

Paul smiled. 'I don't mind at all,' he said,
'and when you see the stairs, I think you'll be glad I
offered.'

Allegra laughed. 'That bad, huh?'

'Yes,' he said. 'That bad.'

At a pair of black-painted double doors, he
took out a key chain and held up a key. 'This one is for the door
if you need it,' he said. 'It's easier to use the keypad. The code
is 2929.' He pointed to the small metal keypad on the wall next to
the door.

He punched in the code, opened the door, and
held it aside for her, and Allegra stepped into a long dark tunnel,
one wall of which was lined with mailboxes.

'This buzzer will let you out. See?' He
pointed to a little round push button on the wall.

'Okay.' She started down the tunnel and saw
that at its end it opened onto a courtyard paved with
cobblestones.

'Oh, this is so lovely,' she said.

'It is nice, isn't it?' Paul replied.

Shrubbery in tubs was placed around the
walls, and a leafless tree soared upward from the center. She could
see one set of stairs to the left and one to the right.

'We go up these stairs,' Paul said, heading
right.

The stairs were made of worn limestone and
oak, and the walls were dingy plaster. At the first landing,
Allegra stopped and turned to Paul, who was trudging up the stairs
behind her.

'On up,' he said. 'All the way to the
top.'

When they finally reached the last landing,
six floors up, Allegra took several deep breaths. 'I must be out of
shape,' she said with a laugh. 'This is really a climb.'

'Yes,' Paul said. 'See what I mean?'

'Do I ever.'

He set her suitcase down and took out the key
chain again. 'It's this key. It's easy to remember. The one
downstairs is an ordinary brass key. This one is round. It's a
fancy security lock.'

'I've seen one before,' Allegra said. 'Not
exactly like that, but similar.'

Paul opened the door and once again held it
for her.

'Thanks, Paul,' she said. She stepped into a
narrow entry hall with terra-cotta sponged walls. To her left she
saw a small bathroom, and straight ahead was one large room with a
sofa bed, over which was draped a multicolored kilim rug; a coffee
table; and a couple of chairs. Along one wall was a kitchenette,
and in a corner was a television set. Large beams ran across the
ceiling and down the walls. At the end of the room was one window,
and Allegra went straight to it. Looking out, she could see the
apartment buildings all around, with their mansard roofs and
skylights.

'How do you like it?' Paul asked.

'It's so charming,' Allegra replied.

'Good,' Paul said. He held out a card.
'Here's my telephone number if you should need anything. Feel free
to call.'

'I think I'll be fine,' Allegra said.

'Well, don't hesitate, as I said,' he
replied. 'I work at home, so I'm always nearby.'

'I really appreciate it, Paul,' she said.

'And I'll be here Friday morning,' he said,
'to help you down with your suitcase.'

'Oh, no,' Allegra protested. 'You don't have
to do that. I can handle it. Really I can.'

'About a quarter to nine,' he said, ignoring
her. 'I insist.'

'If you say so,' Allegra said. She followed
him to the door to see him out.

'By the way,' he said, 'there's a good little
bistro just downstairs on the corner. Typical fare and not too
expensive.'

'Thanks,' she replied. 'I'm sure I'll be able
to find my way around.'

'See you Friday, then,' Paul said, and he
turned and left.

After she closed the door behind him, she
turned and walked back to the apartment's one big room. She
shrugged out of her overcoat and draped it across a chair, then put
her suitcase up on the sofa. She unzipped it and began putting away
the few clothes she'd brought with her, anxious to explore a little
of the neighborhood before it got much later.

Tomorrow, Wednesday, she would go to the
Citibank branch with the letter of credit that Hilton Whitehead had
given her. A Monsieur Lenoir was expecting her. Then she would go
to the preview at Dufour to see the emerald ring and register to
bid. The auction would take place Thursday at two. Friday, she was
to leave on the private jet at ten thirty a.m.

Taking her toiletries kit, she went to the
small bathroom, where she checked her makeup, brushed her hair, and
washed her hands, before putting her coat back on and grabbing her
shoulder bag and keys. Locking the door behind her, she descended
the ancient staircase and went back out onto the rue des
Archives.

A unique jewelry store, unlike anything she'd
seen in New York or elsewhere, was practically next door. Besides
selling beautiful pieces of jewelry, it sold beads and semiprecious
stones and the necessary equipment for making your own necklaces,
bracelets, and earrings. From there, she went on down the block,
and for the next hour or more, she looked into the shop windows
that lined both sides of the street. Finally, after gazing into the
window of a chocolatier, whose products were both exquisite and
mouthwatering, she decided to try the bistro on the corner that
Paul had told her about.

Casual and boisterous, with a good-looking
crowd and smiling, outrageously flirtatious waiters, the bistro was
more than she'd hoped for. Prominently placed in the middle of the
bar was a giant fishbowl filled to the brim with water. But instead
of fish, it was filled with cell phones. To its side was a sign
with a drawing of a cell phone with an X drawn through it. Another
sign on the mirror behind the bar announced in French that if you
left your cell phone behind in the restaurant, you would have to
fish for it.

Allegra smiled and felt certain that she was
going to like having her dinner here. She enjoyed a carafe of white
wine, salad, roast chicken, and vegetables, with a chocolate mousse
for dessert. The meal was simple but delicious, and when the waiter
presented her bill, she was somewhat amazed that she had eaten so
well for less than fifteen dollars. She happily used the credit
card that Hilton Whitehead had provided her with, and added a very
generous tip for her handsome young waiter.

Back in the apartment, she tried to call
Todd, but there was no answer at his apartment or hers. She wasn't
surprised. He was probably still at the renovation site. Next, she
tried to get hold of Jason, but he didn't pick up at the atelier,
answer his cell phone, or respond to the telephone at his
apartment.

It was still early in New York City, and
Allegra couldn't imagine why he would have left the atelier
already. For that matter, why he wouldn't answer his cell phone. He
always had it with him. Jason had not been himself lately, and now,
a long way from the atelier, it bothered her more than usual. He
was responsible for her livelihood while she was gone.

The telephone rang, and she started. She
picked up the receiver.

'Miss me?'

'I do,' she said, smiling at the sound of
Todd's voice. 'I feel sort of... lonely.'

'Lonely?' he said. 'You? I'd have thought
you'd already have met at least a dozen hot young men who'd be more
than glad to take you out and show you the town.'

She laughed. 'No,' she replied. 'I'm afraid
it's not like that. I have things I have to do, and besides, I
don't really know anybody here. All the Parisians I know are in New
York.'

'Haven't you met any of the J
alouse
magazine people yet?' he asked.

Damn
, she thought. 'Not until
tomorrow.'

'So what did you take with you for the
shoot?' he asked.

'Just a few little things,' she replied. 'You
know, easy to travel with.'

'Like what?'

'You know, my apple peel necklace, a couple
of bracelets, a couple of pairs of earrings. Not much.'

'I can't wait to see the results,' he said.
'I know they'll do a beautiful job.'

'Well, you'll have to wait a while because
it'll be at least three or four months before they'll publish this
shoot. If they do.'

'What do you mean,
if
they do?' he
asked.

'You know how it is, Todd,' she said.
'Sometimes they decide to kill a story because something more
interesting comes along. They do that all the time in the magazine
and newspaper business.'

'I know, but that couldn't possibly happen to
my gal,' he said.

'I hope not.'
Oh, God, forgive me
, she
thought. 'How are things going with the remodeling?' she asked,
changing the subject.

'Okay,' Todd replied. 'In fact, things are
going so well, I thought I might pop over to Paris and join you. We
could spend a couple of extra days together, seeing the
sights.'

Allegra hoped he didn't hear the quick intake
of her breath. Her mind began to spin.

'Ally? Are you there?' he asked.

'Yes,' she said. 'Of course I'm here. I was
just thinking, that's all. I've got such a heavy schedule tomorrow
and the next day that I wouldn't have time to even see you.
And—'

'Oh, come on,' he said. 'Not even at night?
What're these magazine people going to do? Follow you to bed?'

'Well, I just—'

'You don't want me there, do you?' he asked,
irritated.

'No, no, Todd,' she said. 'It's not that at
all. Really. You've got to believe me.'

'You don't sound very convincing,' he
said.

'It's just that this is business, you know?
And my return ticket is for Friday.'

'Couldn't you ask them just to change it?' he
asked. 'That way we could spend Thursday night through Sunday
together, then fly back Sunday night or Monday morning.'

'I don't know whether they'll be able to
change my ticket or not. Plus, there's the atelier to think of. I
hate to leave Jason in charge like this. I couldn't even get hold
of him earlier today,' Allegra said, stalling.

'Ally, you're throwing up roadblocks,' he
said. 'Why?'

'What do you mean?' she replied, knowing
exactly what he meant.

'Come on, get off it,' he said. 'I'm talking
about the weekend. You're closed on Sundays, only open by
appointment the rest of the time, and you know that Jason is
perfectly fine at handling whatever comes up.'

'I . . . you're right,' she said
apologetically.

'Look, I'll check out the flights on Thursday
and let you know one way or the other,' he said.

'That would be great,' she said, warming to
the idea. 'Remember, I'll be free late Thursday afternoon, but not
before then.'

'Okay,' Todd said.

'If you come, don't bring anything heavy,'
she said, after giving him the address on the rue des Archives.
'It's six flights up, and there's no elevator. Plus, the stairs are
lethal.'

'It sounds like just the kind of old building
I would love.'

'You would, too,' she said. 'I know you
would.'

'We could have a blast seeing a little of
Paris together,' he said. Then he added, 'I love you, Ally.'

'I love you, too, Todd,' she said.

' 'Night, babe,' he said.

' 'Night.'

She replaced the receiver in its cradle and
took a deep breath. She felt much better now that she'd talked to
Todd. Then she remembered she hadn't spoken to Jason. She dialed
the atelier number. No answer. She tried his home and cell numbers.
No answer at either place. She decided not to leave a message,
thinking she could call him back later, but decided against that,
too. She didn't want him to think she was being a hysteric about
the atelier. After all, what could have happened in only a few
hours?

A few short blocks away, Ramtane Tadjer's
valet slipped the silk and cashmere robe across Ram's
shoulders.

'Shall I lay out your clothes for tomorrow,
sir?' Gerard asked.

'Hm . . .' Ram considered the question for a
moment before answering. 'Not tonight, Gerard.' Tomorrow and the
next day were to be very special, and he would choose his attire
very carefully. For the preview and the auction, he would dress in
his very best clothes. He didn't care who knew he was bidding or on
what. He was willing to pay whatever it took to get Princess
Karima's ring. Besides, he knew that with the stone's inclusion,
some dealers and collectors would be scared away.

'Will you be having breakfast at the usual
time, sir?' Gerard asked.

'Yes, the usual.'

'Very good, sir,' Gerard said.

Ram picked up the remote for the plasma
screen television, then turned back to his valet. 'Oh, one more
thing, Gerard,' he said. 'Bring me a bottle of Armagnac.'

'Very good, sir.' He turned and left the
bedroom, closing the door soundlessly behind him.

Ram put his arms into his robe sleeves and
tied the belt loosely, then put his feet into his silk tapestry
slippers. He pushed the button that activated the television
screen, and it slid soundlessly from the ceiling above the
fireplace mantel, hiding a Braque painting. Positioning himself on
the freshly ironed linen sheets of his Empire sleigh bed, he pushed
the on button. The television was set to the news, virtually the
only thing Ram ever watched.

Gerard returned with the bottle of Armagnac
and a crystal snifter on a silver salver. He placed them on the
bedside table, next to the carafe of water and the glass that were
always at Ram's bedside and refreshed daily. Then he poured a
measure of Armagnac into the snifter.

'Anything else, sir?' he asked.

Ram shook his head. 'No, thank you, Gerard,'
he said without looking at him.

Gerard exited the room silently, closing the
door behind him with only a soft click.

Ram congratulated himself on hiring the very
well trained young man. Like all of Ram's household help, Gerard
had once served in a very grand house, in his case that of the old
Baron de Beaufre. When the baron died, Ram had pounced. Whether
through death, divorce, or debts, he had secured the best help
there was to be had in all of Paris. Aside from being well trained,
they were hardworking, efficient, loyal, and, perhaps most
important, discreet. Ram didn't have to worry about his servants
gossiping, even though he gave them little fodder for spreading
tales.