The Paris Architect: A Novel

Lucien stopped and looked into another shop window but then did something that aroused Alain’s suspicions. While he was examining the men’s suit in the display, his head shifted to the right then to the left to see if he was being followed. It was definitely a cautious gesture. Alain had hidden behind a column that flanked the entry of a building when Lucien had paused. Now he waited before going back onto the sidewalk; he had to be sure Lucien would not turn around again. Alain was certain that Lucien was going to a hiding place. He was beside himself with delight. He had to be close behind Lucien when he entered the building so he could creep up the stairs and spy on him.

He followed for several more blocks until Lucien came to a nondescript café on the rue de Duras and sat down at an outdoor table. Alain was brimming with impatience as Lucien called the waiter over and ordered. He waited in a doorway of a milliner shop across the street, smoking a cigarette. It was good that the shop was closed, and no one would shoo him away from the entrance. After Lucien was served a glass of wine, he asked the waiter a question and was directed to the interior of the café. Lucien rose from his seat and went inside. Alain guessed that he had to go the bathroom, but after ten minutes had passed, he became impatient and worried. Another ten minutes passed, and Alain knew what had happened. He ran across the street but approached the café entrance slowly. He didn’t want to run into Lucien if he came out.

Alain peered into the darkness of the café and entered cautiously. He stayed to the right of the inner door, hiding behind the door frame. A waiter came up to him, and Alain asked where the bathroom was. The waiter snapped at him, telling him that he had to order something in order to use the facilities. Alain ignored him and walked swiftly to the rear of the café. He slowly opened the door to the men’s room, half expecting to face Lucien, but it was empty. He checked all the stalls, and the window above the sink was closed. Outside the bathroom, he saw a doorway that led to a supply room with a rear door. Alain cursed under his breath as he opened it and saw a tiny courtyard that connected to a passageway. He followed it out onto a street. Looking up and down the street, he found no sign of Lucien.

He leaned against the wall of a building and lit a cigarette. He was positive that Lucien had not seen him. He must have used the café as a precaution to give anyone the slip. If he’d been in Lucien’s shoes, he would’ve done the same thing. He smiled to himself as he thought about it; it was a pretty clever maneuver. Alain liked this game of cat and mouse and looked forward to another opportunity to tail Lucien. As he puffed away on his cigarette, he noticed that he was on the rue des Saussaies, right across the street from Gestapo headquarters where his uncle worked. It was an ornate limestone affair with iron balconies and tall windows. He knew its elegant facade belied what actually went on inside. His uncle had once mentioned how he got his “guests” to cooperate. Alain tossed his cigarette butt away and started home. He was in no hurry so he stopped to look in a secondhand bookstore window and saw a volume on moderne architecture that looked interesting, so he went inside.

***

Pierre watched Alain from a doorway across the street. When he left the bookstore twenty minutes later, the boy followed him back to his home. Several weeks ago, he’d noticed Alain rifling through some papers on Lucien’s desk at the office. At first, this didn’t seem unusual; after all, Alain was Lucien’s right-hand man who took care of every detail of the buildings. This happened a few more times, but Pierre thought nothing of it.