The Paris Architect: A Novel

“You’ve got an odd sense of trust, my love. He’s still a German, and you can never trust a German. Always remember that.”


“Yes, my dear, I’ll keep that in mind.” Lucien rolled down his window a bit to draw in some of the cool night air. It was a beautiful clear night with a steady breeze that refreshed Lucien, evaporating the sweat that was beaded on his face. He ran both his hands through his hair and rubbed his eyes to keep alert. The silence in the countryside reminded him of the deafening silence of Paris at night after the curfew, where one could hear a pin drop in the next block. The only sound he heard was the wind whispering softly through the trees that flanked the car. It was suddenly broken by the sound of cracking twigs and leaves off to his left. His heart began to pound. He continued to look straight ahead into the night, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel at ten and two o’clock. A short rap on the side of the car gave him a start. He slowly turned his head to the left and just a few centimeters away was Herzog’s smiling face. He motioned for him to get out. Lucien was surprised to see the German dressed in civilian clothes. He didn’t know what to make of it and was confused about what was happening.

“Do you know what you have to do?” said Herzog casually, as if he were asking Lucien to pick up his laundry.

“We’ll drive to the west of Belfort to the exact point you told us, then we get out and walk across the border.”

“It has to be that exact position. There’ll be no guards on either side of the border there tonight,” said Herzog. “You mustn’t get lost.”

Herzog rested his hand on Lucien’s shoulder. “I brought a couple of things for your trip,” said Herzog, pulling out two folded pieces of paper from his pants pocket. “It’s another official pass from the armaments division authorizing you safe passage at any time with today’s date. You won’t have any trouble on the road tonight.”

“The French police won’t get suspicious with the kids in the car?”

“Show them this too. It’s a letter from me saying you’re going to Montbéliard to start work on a factory, and you have to relocate your family.”

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“Not quite. This is a backup plan just in case of an emergency,” said Herzog as he pulled a Luger from his other pants pocket. “It can come in handy if an unexpected problem comes up.”

“Why…thank you,” said Lucien, holding the butt of the pistol uneasily.

“They did teach you how to fire a gun in the French army? I know you people aren’t much good at fighting wars, just sitting around smoking, drinking, and bullshitting,” said Herzog with a smile.

“Yes, you pull this thing,” said Lucien, pointing at the trigger.

“Very good. And the bullet comes out at this end. Important to remember that.”

“We have some extra room in the car. You’re sure you won’t come along, Dieter? You’re certainly dressed for the occasion.”

“I’m still a German soldier sworn to defend the Fatherland, so I’ll be going back to building factories and fortifications. And there’s still much to add to my art collection. You know, I may even reconstruct your building those bastards in the Resistance blew up.”

Lucien turned away and stared off toward a grove of trees. “When all this madness is over, I hope we meet again,” said Lucien.

“We will, I’m sure of it,” replied Herzog.

“I never thought I’d ever say this to a German oppressor, but I’ll miss you. We made an odd team.”

“That we did, my friend,” Herzog agreed. “But now it’s time you were on your way. You’ve got a long night ahead of you.”

“Good-bye,” said Lucien, extending his hand.

Herzog shook his hand firmly. “Good luck to you, Lucien.”