The Paris Architect: A Novel

As Lucien was being led up the stairs, he heard a scream and saw a brown and yellow blur go by, followed by the sound of a loud thump. He looked over the rail and saw a frail old woman lying on the floor, her head twisted at an odd angle and her left arm bent in two. His hands tightened around the wooden railing to control his panic.

When the plainclothes Gestapo man had showed up at his door, Lucien had assumed it was about Alain’s murder. He had found out that the boy’s uncle was in the Gestapo and was enraged about what had happened. There would be lots of questions. That the murder happened on the rue du Faubourg just around the corner from the hideout made Lucien nervous. That was one hell of a coincidence. Lucien had been shocked to hear about the killing. He wasn’t about to pretend that he had ever liked the kid, but he did lose a valuable employee, one whose shoes would be hard to fill. He also doubted that this was about the bombing of the factory. The Germans chalked that one up to sabotage and had simply executed a hundred people the next day, far fewer than he’d expected. He’d heard that Hitler himself wanted five hundred to die. It was not until they’d pulled up in front of 11 rue des Saussaies and walked across the street to number 12 that Lucien knew he was in big trouble. He was amazed that he didn’t start running; instead, he remained surprisingly calm.

After witnessing the brutal murder of the old woman, who he knew was the concierge, Lucien took a deep breath and continued to calmly climb the steps with the Gestapo officer. He knew he was going to be arrested in the next few minutes, but he decided then and there he wasn’t going to be taken alive. He would soon be joining the old crone on the ground floor. Lucien didn’t worry about would happen to Pierre if he should be killed. He had worked that all out with Bette, and it was a great relief that there was someone to look after him. Lucien wasn’t scared. He realized he was quite at peace with himself because he’d finally become something he’d always wanted to be—a father—and best of all, he’d been good at it.

As he neared the third floor, Schlegal came out to greet him. Lucien could hear an enormous racket going on inside the apartment, which he knew was the search for Janusky. He smiled and waved to the Gestapo officer, who, to his surprise, returned the greeting with equal friendliness.

“Monsieur Bernard, I’m sorry to have interrupted your work, but I need your architectural expertise again.”

Maybe this wasn’t his day to die after all. But Lucien had to keep his wits about him or it would be.

“Not at all, Colonel. I’m glad to serve the Reich. How can I help you?”

Schlegal put his hand on his shoulder and guided him into the apartment. Soldiers using axes were busting through every inch of wall. Another group was prying up sections of parquet flooring. Dust was flying everywhere, and it became hard to see through the haze.

“As you can see, I’m making a very thorough search of the premises for a gentleman of the Hebrew persuasion. I believe he’s in this apartment as we speak.”

Lucien managed to assume an inscrutable expression, knowing that Schlegal was keeping a close watch on his face, looking for any sign that would give the hiding place away.

“And how do you know this?”

“I actually saw him myself.”

“Then he’s here.”

“Any suggestions as to where to look?” asked Schlegal.

Lucien turned about and stopped. “Look up that fireplace flue, then pull up all the stone hearths in each room. They would make excellent hiding places.”

Schlegal immediately screamed at a soldier to do what Lucien suggested. Lucien walked through the apartment with the Gestapo officer following close behind. They went into the bathroom.

“Did you look inside that platform the tub is sitting on? It’s just high enough for a man to slip under.”

A soldier quickly broke apart the wood platform but the cavity revealed no Jew.

“You know, he could be hiding anywhere under the floor between the floor beams. They’re deep enough to conceal a man. Maybe using some sort of trap door. You must uncover every square centimeter,” said Lucien in a very authoritative voice.