Swimsuit - James Patterson [78]
I turned to the waitress, said to her, “This lovely lady and I are going to have a baby.”
“It is your first baby?”
“Yes. And I love this woman so much, and I’m so happy about the baby I could fly circles around the moon.”
The waitress smiled broadly, kissed both my cheeks and Mandy’s, then made a general announcement that I didn’t quite understand. But she made wing motions with her arms, and people at the next table started laughing and clapping and then others joined in, calling out congratulations and bravos.
I smiled at strangers, bowed to a beatific Amanda, and felt the flush of an unexpected and full-blown joy. Not long ago I was thanking God that I have no children. Now I was lit up brighter than I. M. Pei’s glass pyramid at the Louvre.
I could hardly believe it.
Mandy was going to have our child.
Chapter 105
AS QUICKLY AS my expanding love for Mandy sent my heart to the moon, my happiness was eclipsed by an even greater fear for her safety.
As we trekked back to our little hotel, I told Amanda why she had to leave Paris in the morning.
“We’ll never be safe as long as Henri is calling the shots. I have to be smarter than he is, and that’s saying something, Amanda. Our only hope is for me to get out in front of him. Please trust me about this.”
I told Mandy that Henri had described walking with Gina around the Place Vendôme.
I said, “It’s like looking for one needle in a hundred haystacks, but my gut is telling me that he’s here.”
“And if he is, what are you going to do about it, Benjy? Are you really going to kill him?”
“You’ve got a better idea?”
“About a hundred of them.”
We took the stairs to our room, and I made Amanda stand back as I drew my dainty Smith and Wesson and opened the door. I checked the closets and the bath, pushed aside the curtains, and looked out into the alley, seeing popup monsters everywhere.
When I was sure the room was clear, I said, “I’ll be back in an hour. Two hours at most. Sit tight, okay? Watch the tube. Swear to me you won’t leave the room.”
“Oh please, Benjy, call the police.”
“Honey. One more time. They can’t protect us. We’re not protectable. Not from Henri. Now promise me.”
Mandy reluctantly held up the three-fingered Girl Scout salute, then locked the door behind me as I headed out.
I’d done some homework. There were a handful of first-class hotels in Paris. Henri might stay at the Georges V or the Plaza Athénée. But I was betting on my hunch.
It was an easy walk to the Hôtel Ritz on the Place Vendôme.
Chapter 106
HENRI POPPED his knuckles in the backseat of a metered Mercedes taxi heading north from Orly toward the Rue de Rivoli and from there to the Place Vendôme. He was hungry and irritated, and the ridiculous traffic was barely crawling across the Pont Royal on the Rue des Pyramides.
As the taxi idled at a traffic light, Henri shook his head, thinking again about the mistake he’d made, a genuine amateur boner, not knowing that Jan Van der Heuvel would be out of town when he visited Amsterdam earlier that day. Rather than leave immediately, he’d made a decision on the fly, something he rarely did.
He knew that Van der Heuvel had a secretary. He’d met her once, and he knew she’d be locking up Van der Heuvel’s office at the end of the day.
So he’d watched and waited for Mieke Helsloot, with her cute little body and her short skirt and lace-up boots, to lock Van der Heuvel’s big front door at five on the nose. Then he’d followed her in the intense silence of the canal district, only the sound of church bells and seabirds breaking the stillness.
He followed quietly, only yards behind her, crossing the canal after her, turning down a winding side street. Then he called out, “Hello, excuse me,” and she’d turned to face him.
He’d apologized right away, falling in step beside her, saying he’d seen her leaving Mr. Van der Heuvel’s office and had been trying to catch up to her for the last couple of blocks.
He’d said, “I’m working with Mr. Van der Heuvel on a confidential project. You remember me, don’t you, Mieke? I’m Monsieur Benoit.