Parisian Affair (39 page)

'Sylvie,' Todd said simply.

Reflected in the fire's orange light and the
whirling red and blue of the police cars, fire trucks, and
ambulances, which were already arriving, her face was unmistakable.
The driver's-side door was thrown wide open, and her left arm
dangled out of the car. The steering column had been driven up into
her chest, pinning her back against the seat, and her head was
thrown back at an odd angle, her bloody neck and breasts partially
exposed. There was no sign of life, and Todd had no doubts that she
was dead. Her chest had been crushed and her neck most likely
broken.

Todd, an arm still around Allegra, guided her
toward the other side of the car to get a better view of the
passenger. Even with the car's top thrown open, it was difficult to
see from this angle, though it was apparent that the passenger had
gone through the windshield.

'Oh, Jesus,' he exclaimed when they had
rounded the rear of the car and walked toward the front. He
immediately turned around, propelling Allegra along with him,
hoping that she hadn't seen what he had. The upper half of Paul's
body was splayed across the car's once magnificent hood, and his
head was almost entirely severed from his torso. Fiery light
reflected off his open eyes.

Allegra was silent, but her body began to
involuntarily shake. Her stomach lurched, and for a minute she
thought she was going to throw up. But she fought it down and clung
to Todd. He quickly walked her away from the scene, an arm
protectively around her shoulders.

They went straight up to the suite, through
the sitting room, and into the bedroom. Todd guided her to the bed,
where he sat her down.

'I'm just going to get us a drink,' he
said.

Allegra nodded and tried to smile up at
him.

He went to the minibar, where he got two
bottles of Scotch and ice cubes, then retrieved glasses and poured
them both drinks. He handed her one, and Allegra gladly took
it.

'Thanks,' she said.

He sat down next to her and put an arm around
her shoulder again. 'You going to be okay?' he asked. 'I could
always get the hotel doctor to give you something.'

Allegra shook her head. 'No, I'll be fine,'
she said. She took a sip of the drink and felt its fiery trajectory
down her throat and into her stomach. 'I think this will do the
trick.'

Todd sipped his drink and stroked her back
with his hand. They talked about the awful accident for a while,
wondering how Sylvie could end up with a creep like Paul.

Finally, Todd said, 'You know you aren't
responsible in any way for this.'

'I know—' she began, but the telephone
rang.

'I bet that's the call you had in to the
general,' Todd said. 'You want me to take it?'

'No,' she said. 'I'll do it.' She picked up
the receiver. 'Hello?'

'Mademoiselle Sheridan,' the operator said,
'I have your party on the line.'

'Thank you,' Allegra replied. She heard a
click. 'Hello,' she said again.

'Yes?' The voice was a woman's with a
pronounced Spanish accent.

'I'd like to speak to Ramondo
Gonzalez-Viega,' Allegra said.

'Who is this?'

'My name is Allegra Sheridan,' she said, then
repeated the same story she and Todd had told the others.

'I am Dorisita Luisa Gonzalez-Viega,' the
woman said in a pompous voice. 'The general, I am his wife. He is
in the hospital.'

'Oh, I'm so sorry,' Allegra said, surprised
to hear that a woman who was once in such a high position in her
former country spoke broken English. She'd met so many South
Americans in New York who were fluent in English. 'I'm calling at a
bad time. I hoped that the general could help me.'

'The general, he is dying,' the woman said.
'The cancer, you know.'

'That's horrible,' Allegra replied. 'I'm so
sorry,' she repeated.

Suddenly, the woman began weeping, then
progressed to sobbing. Allegra continued to hold the receiver to
her ear, wondering what she should say. Finally, she ventured,
'Senora Gonzalez-Viega, I wish there was something I could say to
help you.'

'
Ahi
, no,' the woman managed through
her sobs, 'there is nothing nobody can do.
Momento
.'

Allegra heard her move the telephone, then
blow her nose away from it.

'Senora Sheridan,' she said after she'd
finished, 'I can probably tell you what it is you want to
know.'

'I don't want to bother you,' Allegra said,
and she meant it. If this poor woman couldn't deal with her
questions now, she would call another time or forget it altogether.
She was fairly certain that Ramtane Tadjer had the emeralds
anyway.

'No bother,' Senora Gonzalez-Viega said. 'If
my husband was here, it would be a bother. He don't like to be
reminded of the emerald bracelet. He's a man, you know? So proud.
And he love to see me wear the bracelet. In front of his friends.
He always point it out.'

'I can understand that,' Allegra said. 'It's
a magnificent bracelet.'

'
St, si, si
,' Senora Gonzalez-Viega
replied. 'Big, big emeralds. You never saw so big emeralds,
senora.' Her voice was full of pride and enthusiasm, as Allegra was
sure her husband's would have been.

'Yes,' Allegra said. 'Huge emeralds. And
matched.'

'
Si
,' Senora Gonzalez-Viega replied.
'Important, this matching, they say. My husband get the bracelet in
Paris. At Jules Levant, the fancy jeweler, you know? I wear night
and day. Then the revolution, it come. We come to Miami to our
condo here on Brickell Avenue.'

'You were very lucky to escape,' Allegra
said, feeling like a hypocrite. She remembered that General
Gonzalez-Viega had been one of those responsible for the
'disappearings'—the rounding up, killing, and burying of protesters
in unmarked graves—in his native country.

'
Si
,' Senora Gonzalez-Viega replied.
'Very lucky. They kill many peoples, but we get to Miami. The
general, he put money in bank here. The Espiritos Santos Bank, you
know? On Brickell Avenue. Very safe. But not enough. We think we go
back soon. That my husband, he will be savior of country. But that
doesn't happen. So here we are in condo and the money, it's running
out.'

'I am sorry for you,' Allegra repeated,
knowing there was nothing else she could say under the
circumstances if she wanted to find out what happened to the
emeralds.

'Si, is terrible life now,' the senora said.
'So, we sell the bracelet at Sotheby's. My husband, he say the
jeweler in Paris bought it.'

'At least you had something to sell,' Allegra
said, thinking that her words of comfort sounded awfully lame to
her own ears.

'I survive a lot of things,' the woman said,
'and I survive this, too.'

'I'm sure you will,' Allegra said, hoping to
draw the conversation to a close. 'And I'm so grateful to you for
taking the time to talk to me.'

'
De nada
,' she replied. 'I wish you
good luck, senora. Better luck than I have.'

'
Gracias
,' Allegra replied.

The woman hung up the telephone, and Allegra
heaved a sigh of relief, then turned to Todd.

'So now we've established that Ramtane Tadjer
has all of the emeralds except the one in the safe here,' Todd
said.

Allegra didn't say anything, just sat in
thoughtful silence for a while.

'There's something we've neglected,' she said
finally.

'What's that?'

'Dufour giving me the wrong emerald,' Allegra
said. 'Princess Karima had the last one, and something tells me
that the 'mix-up,' as it was called, wasn't a mix-up at all.
Someone was in cahoots with the princess. I would love to see her
reaction when I tell her that Dufour tried to give me the wrong
ring.'

'How the hell are you going to do that?' Todd
asked.

'Pay an unannounced visit,' Allegra said.

'We'd never get in to see her.'

'I bet I would if I showed up on her doorstep
and told her I was the woman who bought the ring.' She turned to
Todd and smiled. She decided it wouldn't be smart to tell him that
Solomon Weiss had said the princess was lethal.

'You are one clever lady,' he said, returning
her smile. 'I think you're right.' He paused in thought. 'But do
you know where she is?'

'The newspapers said that she was leaving
Paris after the auction for her old millhouse in the country. The
forest of Fontainebleau. Said she would be living there full-time
after selling her mansion.'

'Do you know where that is?' he asked.

Allegra shook her head. 'No, but we'll find
it.'

'How?'

'Rent a car first thing in the morning and
head to the forest of Fontainebleau. Drive around till we find it.
You know, stop and ask. Say we're lost. Tell people we're invited
there for lunch or something and lost our direction.'

'You really think that'll work?'

'Sure,' she said. 'People in that neck of the
woods will know exactly where the princess's place is.'

'Maybe. Maybe not,' he answered.

'You game?' she asked.

He winked. 'I'm in.'

Ram took a puff of one of the Cuban cigars he
occasionally allowed himself, held the smoke briefly, then blew it
out in a long blue gray streamer into the dimly lit magnificence of
his library. The
hotel particulier
on the rue Elzevir was
quiet tonight, the servants either out or retired to their private
quarters, and after the exertions of the previous night with the
young street hooker and his activities earlier in the day on the
rue des Rosiers, he felt both exhausted and paradoxically
energized. His dream was coming closer to a reality, and that
thought alone was enough to create a tension in his loins that must
be released.

He fleetingly thought to call one of his
girls and pay another visit to the rue des Rosiers. But no sooner
had the thought come to mind than he nixed it. He didn't want to be
in the vicinity when Solomon Weiss's body was discovered, if it
hadn't already been. He knew that neighbors regularly looked in on
the old man and that the delicatessen across the street provided
him with meals. He didn't think anyone would suspect foul play, but
he didn't want to make himself available for the idle questions of
a nosy neighbor.

Then again, tonight would be a good time to
visit the apartment again. Not only for another night of satisfying
his erotic desires but to retrieve the emeralds, settings, and
photographs that had been stored for so many years in the little
safe hidden away in the apartment.

Over the years, he'd considered removing them
to the jewelry store, but had always decided against it. The store
was sometimes a beehive of activity and offered too many
opportunities for a slipup. What if he neglected to put his keys
away and inadvertently gave one of his employees the opportunity to
see what his private safe contained? For the same reason he'd never
brought the cache to rue Elzevir.

Now, however, with his scheme coming so close
to its inevitable end, it was time. Time to bring the emeralds,
settings, and photographs here to rue Elzevir. He could take one of
the girls there, then dismiss her and bring back the treasures to
the
hotel particulier
, where eventually—perhaps in the next
few days—he would himself reset the stones in their original
settings.

He took another puff on the cigar, relishing
its rich flavor. Yes. He could have Kadar check out the situation
on the rue des Rosiers when he had finished his shift at the hotel.
Most likely, the body had been discovered and carted away, and
everything in the old building had returned to normal. Besides, he
needed to talk to Kadar to get an update on the Sheridan woman and
her boyfriend.

He picked up his cell phone and pressed in
the number.

Kadar picked up on the second ring.
'Hello.'

'Can you talk now?' Ram asked him.

'Just a moment,' came the reply. Then, 'Let
me call you back in a minute.'

'Hurry,' Ram said.

'Don't worry,' Kadar said.

Ram pressed the END button and sat waiting.
In anticipation of the upcoming night, he flipped through the
Hermes address book on his desk.

Who will it be tonight?
he asked
himself.
Which one of the beauties will have the privilege of my
company?
Then he saw the name: Josette Clement.
Perfect
,
he thought. She was pale, strawberry blond, tall, and slender.
She's much like the American, Allegra Sheridan.

His cell phone rang, and he picked it up.
'They keep you busy there, I see,' Ram said.

'Yes,' Kadar replied. 'They work us like dogs
in this palace.'

Ram chose to disregard the negativity of his
reply. He had gotten him the job there, and although he understood
Kadar's plight, he would prefer to hear his gratitude rather than
his gripes. 'Are the Sheridan woman and her boyfriend in their
suite or have they gone out?' he asked.

'They went out a little while ago,' Kadar
said. 'But I told you that tonight it will be impossible for me to
get into their suite,' he added impatiently. 'It will have to be
tomorrow. This manager—'

'I haven't forgotten,' Ram interrupted.
'Tomorrow night is fine. In the meantime, I have a little errand
for you to run tonight when you get off work.'

'What?' Kadar asked.

'Take a run down to rue des Rosiers,' he
said. 'Then call me and let me know if there are any police around
or any activity in the building. Anything out of the ordinary.'

'I'll go straight from here,' Kadar said.

'Good,' Ram replied. 'Then tomorrow morning
before you go on duty, I want you to come by here and pick up
something for the Sheridan woman and her boyfriend.'