As Mia held out her wrists for the policeman, she glanced at her watch. Seeing how late it was, she suddenly felt nervous.
The detective took their statements. Paul acknowledged the charges against them, taking full responsibility himself while playing down the seriousness of their misdemeanor. He solemnly swore they would never do it again if they were allowed to go. Surely they weren’t going to be kept overnight at the station?
The detective sighed.
“You are foreign nationals. Until I am able to contact your respective consulates and verify your identities, I couldn’t possibly let you go.”
“I have a resident card,” Paul said. “I left it at home, but I assure you I am a French resident.”
“And I’m supposed to just take you at your word on that?”
“They’re going to kill me,” Mia muttered.
“Someone is threatening you, mademoiselle?” the detective asked her.
“No. Just a figure of speech.”
“Please exercise some caution with your vocabulary. This is a police station.”
“Who’s going to kill you?” Paul asked, leaning toward Mia.
“What did I just say?” the inspector demanded.
“I heard you! This isn’t school! Apparently, this situation has put my friend in an awkward professional position. You could show just a little flexibility.”
“You should have thought of that before breaking and entering into a public building.”
“There was no breaking and entering. All the doors were open, including the one leading to the roof.”
“And you think walking on the roof of the Palais Garnier is not a security breach? Would you find it normal if I did the same thing in your country?”
“If you really wanted to, Detective, I wouldn’t have any objections at all. I could even recommend a few spots with breathtaking views.”
“I’ve heard enough,” the policeman sighed. “Lock these two clowns up. And deal with the comedian first.”
“Wait!” Paul begged. “If a French citizen came here to testify to my identity, and brought you proof, would you consider letting us leave?”
“If your citizen makes it here within the next hour, I’d consider it. After that, my shift is over and you would have to wait until morning.”
“Could I use your phone?”
The detective handed Paul the phone from his desk.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Perfectly serious.”
“At this hour of night?”
“You don’t really get to choose what time this kind of thing happens.”
“May I know why?”
“Just listen to me, Cristoneli, because we’re running short on time. If you don’t go to your office, photocopy all my papers, and then come to the police station in the ninth arrondissement within the next hour, I’ll sign my next book over to Mr. Park.”
“Who is Mr. Park?”
“I have no idea. But there must be someone with a name like that at my Korean publishers!” Paul yelled.
Cristoneli hung up on him.
“Is he coming?” Mia asked in a pleading voice.
“Anything’s possible with him,” Paul replied dubiously, laying the phone back in its cradle.
“Well,” said the detective, getting to his feet, “if this man you were yelling at is stupid enough to help you, you’ll be sleeping at home tonight. If not, we have blankets here. France is a civilized country.”
Paul and Mia were escorted to the cells. Out of courtesy, they weren’t put in with the two drunks who had been left to sober up.
The door banged shut behind them. Mia sat on the bench and held her head in her hands.
“My business partner will never forgive me.”
“Why? It’s not like we ran over an old lady or something. Anyway, what are you so worried about? There’s no way she’ll find out we’re here.”
“She’s also my flatmate. When she gets back from the restaurant, she’ll see I’m not there. And I won’t be there tomorrow morning either.”
“You are allowed to sleep out at your age, aren’t you? Seems like a pretty controlling business partner. Unless she’s . . .”
“She’s what?”
“Nothing, forget it.”
“I pretended to have a migraine so I wouldn’t have to work tonight, even though she needed me.”
“Ah. That wasn’t a very nice thing to do.”
“Thanks for twisting the knife.”
Paul sat next to her and said nothing.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “I have an idea, just an idea. Maybe you could neglect to mention the arrest and the police station and the handcuffs and all that to your great-grandchildren . . .”
“Are you kidding me? That would be their favorite part. Imagine Granny spending a night in the nick!”
They heard the sound of a key in the lock. The door to their cell opened and a policeman ordered them out. He led them to the detective’s office, where Cristoneli, after handing over a photocopy of Paul’s residence permit, signed a check to pay his fine.
“Perfect,” said the detective. “You can take him with you.”
Turning around, Cristoneli noticed Mia and stared accusingly at Paul.
“What is the meaning of this?” he exclaimed angrily, turning back to the inspector. “I should be able to take them both for that price!”
“Mademoiselle does not have her papers.”
“Mademoiselle is my niece!” Cristoneli said. “On that, I give you my word.”
“You’re Italian and your niece is English? That’s quite the international family you got there!”
“I am a naturalized Frenchman, Detective,” Cristoneli replied. “And yes, my family has been a mix of nationalities for three generations. You can call us immigrants, or the future of the continent, depending on how open-minded you are.”
“Okay, okay, just get the hell out of here, all of you! And you, mademoiselle, I want to see you again tomorrow afternoon, with your passport. Is that understood?”
Mia nodded.
Outside the police station, Mia thanked Cristoneli, who bowed respectfully.
“The pleasure was all mine, mademoiselle. It’s strange, but have I met you before? Your face is very familiar.”
“I doubt it,” Mia replied, blushing. “Maybe you know somebody who looks like me?”
“Probably. Although . . . I could have sworn that I—”
“Pathetic!” Paul groaned, cutting him off.
“What’s the matter with you?” Cristoneli asked, turning to face him.
“Is this how you try to seduce women, using stale old clichés like that? ‘Have I met you before?’” he repeated mockingly. “Pitiful!”
“You are the one who is pitiful, my friend. I was being completely sincere. I do feel quite sure I have seen mademoiselle somewhere before.”
“Look, we’re in a rush: mademoiselle’s carriage is about to turn into a pumpkin, so let’s just skip the pleasantries, shall we?”
“And that is all the thanks I get, I suppose?” Cristoneli grumbled.
“It goes without saying that we’re eternally grateful. Good night!”
“It also should go without saying that the fine will be deducted from your advance.”
“You two are like a grumpy old married couple,” Mia said, amused, as Cristoneli got back in his sports car.
“Well, he’s certainly got the ‘old’ part covered. Come on, let’s get a move on. What time does your business partner get back from the restaurant?”