The Paris Architect: A Novel

“A fuckin’ bird’s nest,” said Lucien. “I didn’t even think of that when I put in the sleeve. If I’d just thought to put in a little piece of wire mesh at the end…Christ, I’m such an idiot. I killed them. All because of a goddamn bird’s nest.”


Lucien staggered out from the fireplace opening and stretched his arms out to brace himself against the mantle.

“I should have thought of that. Goddamn it, I should have thought of that.”

He turned his head to look down at the dead couple. Suddenly, he collapsed to his knees next to the old lady. Without thinking, he reached out and caressed her soft white hair. Even in old age, she was still uncommonly pretty. He pulled the handkerchief out of her mouth and began to stroke her cheek. Lucien continued to do this for almost two minutes before Manet put his hand on his shoulder, but he did not seem to notice. Manet shook him roughly, and Lucien finally stopped.

“I must make a call to take care of this,” said Manet.

Lucien began to sob, his body shaking. “Christ, what have I done?”

“It was Lieber who killed them, Lucien.”

“No,” said Lucien, looking up at Manet. “I killed them.”

“Please don’t do this to yourself. It was a cruel accident. God’s will.”

“Fuck God,” Lucien shouted as he pulled the handkerchief from the old man’s mouth and held it with both his hands.

“Come, Lucien, you have to get out of here,” Manet said. “I’ll take care of it. Please go home.”

“What were their names?”

“I don’t know if that’s the best—”

“Goddamn it, what were their names?”

“Albert and Sophie Serrault.”

“Who were they? Were they friends of yours?” Lucien shouted. “Tell me, goddamn it.”

“Yes, I knew them. He came from Nimes as a kid to start his own construction firm.”

“And?”

“The usual story with these people. He works like a dog and becomes a success. At the turn of the century, he was smart enough to realize that reinforced concrete was the new thing, so he specialized in that and made a fortune.”

“France was the world leader in reinforced concrete, did you know that?” asked Lucien with pride in his voice.

“I heard he was a war hero. Could’ve sat out the Great War, but he fought and was decorated for gallantry many times. Foch and Clemenceau personally pinned medals on him.”

“He told me he was in the war.”

Manet was puzzled. “You met this man? When?”

“When I came back to take some measurements. He was in the apartment. Told me he should’ve left France. He didn’t believe what would happen to him.”

“All the old couples, they get their children out, but they wind up staying. It’s like they’re tired of running. It makes sense in a way; these people have been running for two thousand years.”

“Look how pretty she still is. You can tell how beautiful she once was.” Lucien started to sob and bent down to kiss her cheek. Manet made no effort to stop him. “I bet they were married a long time. Happily married.”

“It’s time to leave, Lucien,” said Manet, gently placing his hand under Lucien’s right arm to bring him to his feet.

“They saved our lives, you know that? If Lieber had discovered them, you and I would be on our way to Drancy. That is, if we hadn’t been executed first,” said Lucien, looking straight into Manet’s eyes.

“Yes, I know that only too well.”

“Serrault told me an odd thing. He said I was a righteous man for what I was doing. I told him that was nonsense.”

Manet looked down at Serrault’s body and smiled.