Chapter 10
It took Halley an hour at the embassy to fill out the forms to cancel her stolen
passport and order a new one. Millie sent copies of her last passport and driver’s
license to her new phone, so at least she had some form of ID. No one had turned in her
stolen passport at the embassy. And then she went back to the house. She’d had a really
nice time with Bart. He was good company, and he loved his job as CEO of one of the
country’s leading corporations in electronics. He seemed to have a great relationship
with his son. He had told her he never saw his ex-wife anymore. She lived in Florida,
but they were on pleasant terms, and had even danced together at their son’s wedding.
She had been remarried for twenty-five years, and had chosen well that time. She had
no other children and neither did Bart. He said Ryan was enough, and he was proud of
him.
Halley was happy when she got to the house. She answered some emails, and called
the girls. They were out swimming. The doorbell rang as she hung up, and a messenger
delivered a huge pink hat box from Fauchon, with all kinds of treats to eat, and a card
from Bart. “Please don’t starve. Use the card. Bart.” He was fun and gentlemanly and a
little bit old-school, and she liked that. He was smart, kind, respectable, and had a huge
job. And why not go out with him? She was alone in Paris. She thought Robert would
understand and want her to be happy. She had mourned him for three years.
She put the alarm on, and as the night wore on she got more nervous, knowing the
thief had her keys. She slept with the lights on again, and in the morning, her cellphone
rang, and a male French voice sounded very serious and identified himself as Major
Augustin Leopold. He sounded very official.
“Madame ’Olbrook?” He dropped the H in her name, but the caller spoke English
fluently, despite his accent.
“Yes?” She couldn’t imagine who it was.
“I am an inspector of the Sûreté Territoriale, of the police. We are a special branch
for the investigation of high and VIP crimes on our territory. We have your dossier now.
It has been turned over to us by the commissariat at the Grand Palais to pursue the
stealing of your bag, because of its high value. We are working on it now. Would you be
so kind as to come to my office, to complete further questions?”
“Yes, of course.” He sounded so solemn that it made her smile. But she was glad
they were taking it seriously and had referred it to a special department of the police. At
least they hadn’t brushed it off.
“Will you have time today?” he asked her.
“Yes.”
“At noon?”
“Fine.” He gave her the address, and she called the car service and got dressed.
The special branch for high-end thefts against individuals was in a small innocuous
building in a quiet neighborhood and was very discreet. She was stopped as soon as she
walked in by a tough-looking police officer who asked for her ID.
She showed him the copies on her phone and explained that the originals had been
stolen. “That’s why I’m here to see Major Leopold.” The officer told her to wait, made
a call, and then smiled at Halley, pointed the way to the elevator, and told her where to
go.
His name was on the door when she got there, and she knocked and walked in
cautiously. A very large man stood up, very tall, with broad shoulders and a paunch. He
had a mustache, and reminded her of a walrus. He was somewhere in his late fifties,
and seemed military in his bearing as he greeted her.
“Madame ’Olbrook?” She nodded, slightly intimidated by his size if nothing else.
The office was very spare, but there were a few photographs of the major with
celebrities, including one of the French president pinning a medal on the major’s chest.
Her case was in good hands.
He invited her to sit down in the narrow metal chair across his desk. The office
wasn’t luxurious, by any means. Major Leopold was wearing slacks and a tweed jacket,
had reddish brown hair, and looked more Anglo-Saxon than French. Two uniformed
police in bulletproof vests walked in and out when they saw he was busy.
“Your bag upsets me,” he said, as she sat at attention. She felt a little bit like a
schoolgirl in the headmaster’s office. “This should not happen to visitors in Paris. And
your bag is very valuable. On the form, you said you paid fifteen thousand U.S. dollars
for it.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Do you know what it’s worth now?” She shook her head. “That bag was a special
order. It has a small stamp on it to indicate that. One of my men went to Hermès
yesterday, and they showed him a similar stamp. That bag, in that size, today would sell
for seventy-five thousand dollars. For a special order, you must add thirty percent more,
so another twenty or twenty-five thousand U.S., and there was only one made in that
size, so it is safe to assume it is worth one hundred thousand dollars, and in the right
hands, for a person desperate to own such a bag, you could possibly sell it for two
hundred thousand dollars. But very certainly it is worth one hundred thousand now, if
they could even replicate it. Hermès told my officer that it would be nearly impossible
to find so many similar skins today for a bag that size. That is an object of great value,
and extremely rare, which entirely changes the nature of the crime, and the punishment.
When we catch the man who stole it, he will with absolute certainty go to prison.” She
was impressed, and Major Leopold made it sound like the thief had stolen a valuable
work of art. She was surprised that he didn’t scold her for being wasteful or for having
spent too much money on herself, even at a lower price, and that he treated the value of
the bag, and its origins, with great respect. He handed her a photograph of a pleasant
looking man in his forties, clean-shaven, good haircut, ordinary face, possibly an Italian
suit, and wearing a large gold watch. She recognized the man from the security video at
the restaurant.
“The watch is worth five hundred thousand dollars. He stole it a year ago, in the
south of France. We have been looking for him ever since. He stole your bag. His
brother is in the drug trade, he is in luxury goods. They’re Colombian. They are highend
professionals. He is very elusive and clever. I want to find him. We have contacted
all of our informants. I want to bring him to justice and send him to prison,” he said with
determination.
“I don’t suppose you can track down my bag,” she said, feeling nostalgic for a
minute and shocked by its current value. She wouldn’t have used it as a travel bag if she
had known what it was worth today. And now she’d lost it. She was sad because she
loved it, it was such a beautiful piece, with a bright red interior.
Leopold handed her the list of the contents of the bag she’d filled out at the Grand
Palais station, and he asked her to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She read it
and said she hadn’t, as he nodded at her.
“You know, in this office, with the kind of objects and people we deal with,
anything is possible. If people steal a cellphone, an ordinary purse, something small, it
disappears. They throw it away, give it to a friend, sell it for a few euros. But at this
level, with this kind of merchandise, it’s complicated. If they sell it, they can make a lot
of money, but not as much as you would get selling it in a reputable way, like an auction.
But a bag like this is not so easy to place. It’s recognizable, there is only one. It is very
high quality. He may have sold it already, or maybe not. Or he might give it to his
mother or his girlfriend. I’m not promising we will get it back, but we have a chance.
And I will do everything in my power to return it to you.” She was touched by how
intense he was, and they had done some very good research already. They even had a
photo of the bag from the Hermès archives. It made her sad to see it. She wanted her bag
back, which she knew was unlikely, and it seemed foolish to be so attached to a bag.
Major Leopold handed her another list then. They were charges on her credit cards
that the Colombian thief had made.
“Do you know any of these stores?” he asked her. “Have you purchased anything
there?” She read it carefully, shook her head and handed it back to him. “These charges
were all made after the bag was stolen, in one area of Paris, perhaps where he lives.”
“My assistant in New York canceled my cards within an hour after the theft, when
she got my text.”
“Some stores don’t check. American Express notified us of the activity on the stolen
card. You will not be billed, but these will be added to the charges against him. His
name is Tomás Maduro, but he uses many names. We know a great deal about him. Now
we have to find him. He blends in well, which is how he steals where he does. He fits
right in. He eats in the restaurant and steals a bag. He goes to a theater or the opera, and
he steals a bracelet, and the woman wearing it never feels it leave her wrist. Very
professional. He and his brother are pros. We will find him, Madame ’Olbrook. I don’t
know when, but we will.” He stood up and thanked her for coming, and assured her he
would be in touch, even after she went back to New York.
He had her escorted to the front door by one of the police officers in the bulletproof
vests, and they locked the door behind her. She was fascinated by the department, and
especially by Major Augustin Leopold. Meeting him had been an experience. She was
no closer to getting her bag back, but at least she knew now that a team of highly skilled,
specialized detectives were working on it.
She went to Hermès herself after that, and looked around. She was still in shock
over the value of her bag. It was worth more than some of her jewelry.
—
The next day, on New Year’s Eve, she talked to the girls. They were throwing a
New Year’s Eve party on the boat that night, for just their little group. They were in
Antigua and they were planning to stay aboard. There was too much activity in the port,
and none of them wanted to go out that night. They felt safer on the boat. And there were
mega yachts like theirs all around them. The trip had been wonderful so far. They had
three days left on the boat, and then they were flying home. They all agreed it had been
the best vacation of their lives, and everyone got along. Olivia was still sad their
mother hadn’t been able to join them. But she would have been sick if she’d come.
They’d had a few choppy nights, which didn’t bother any of them, but Halley would
have been miserable. She was better off in Paris.
—
Halley put on the one simple black dress she had brought. She hadn’t worn it yet,
she had no reason to, but it seemed appropriate for a sedate New Year’s Eve with Bart
and his son and daughter-in-law. She wore her hair up again, and the dress showed off
her legs. She wore a pair of black suede heels that the girls had given her. They always
picked beautiful shoes for her with dizzyingly high heels.
Halley had invited Bart to come up for a drink when he came to pick her up, so he
could see the house. It looked pretty and festive. She had bought flowers that afternoon.
They were bright red and were reminiscent of the holidays. She had been in Paris for
four days by then, and still had ten days left in her trip. Bart was staying as long as she
was, which was convenient, and he and Ryan were going skiing in Switzerland the
following weekend, while Halley was still there.
She showed him around the house, and he liked it as much as she did. It was chic
and neat, he commented on the beautiful furniture and art and the owner’s great taste.
The atmosphere of the house was warm, personal, and inviting. She already felt at home
there. The only problem she’d had was the theft of the bag, and knowing that the thief
had the keys and the address. And Henri Laurent had been a problem, but he didn’t seem
dangerous, just rude and annoying, and a little eccentric. She had accepted the fact that
he hated her. He was irritating, but not a big deal.
They each had one glass of champagne and then went to Bart’s son’s apartment. It
had a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, with a terrace that overlooked the Seine, and
Halley could see the Grand Palais in the background, as she stood on the terrace with
Bart. There were stars in the sky, the Eiffel Tower was sparkling, and the setting was
incredibly romantic. She hardly knew him, but she was very attracted to him. She
recognized the signs. She could easily have fallen for him, but she didn’t want to be too
hasty. This was only their second date. But she could tell that he felt the same attraction,
and Paris was a magical setting.
They walked back into the apartment after their brief moment on the terrace, and sat
down to a delicious meal of leg of lamb and haricots verts, string beans, both with
garlic. Bart’s daughter-in-law had gotten the meal delivered by a caterer, and they all
thought it was delicious.
The dinner was totally congenial. Bart told them about the stolen bag, and Halley
told them about the major, and the somewhat secret special branch of the theft detail.
“Do you think you’ll get your bag back?” Ryan asked her. He was an extremely
personable, bright young man. He had gone to Princeton, then gotten his law degree at
Harvard. Véronique had a master’s in finance from HEC, one of the most distinguished
business schools in France, and worked for a consulting firm. Ryan liked Halley and he
could see that his father did too. He hadn’t seen him glow like that in a long time. They
seemed so at ease with each other, and had fun. They were getting to know each other,
and discovering things they liked and had in common. Ryan and Véronique left them
alone on the terrace for a little while after dinner, just to sit outside and talk.
“Your son is wonderful,” Halley said to him, as they sat in the chilly star-filled
night. Bart put a blanket around her, and sat close to her. “I like Véronique too. She’s
very bright, and a nice person. I’d love to introduce them to my girls. My son-in-law is
a good man. They’re all hardworking, kind, dedicated people, like Ryan and Véro.”
Eventually, Ryan and Véro came out to join Bart and Halley on the terrace. The
Eiffel Tower sparkled right on the hour of midnight like a giant decoration. Ryan put his
arms around his wife and kissed her, and Bart kissed Halley a little more passionately
than he’d planned. She didn’t stop him, and she looked shy afterward, knowing Bart’s
son and daughter-in-law had seen them, but she didn’t want Bart to stop. They held
hands afterward, sharing a lounge chair, with blankets over them, and when the young
couple went inside, Bart kissed her again, gently this time. He had surprised himself,
but he felt so drawn to Halley. He didn’t understand it, he hardly knew her but he felt as
though he had for a long time. It was so easy being with her, and she was such a warm
person. She felt peaceful that night, and as though she was in the right place, with the
right people. She leaned her head against Bart’s shoulder and they didn’t speak for a
little while. It was nice just being there together. It was so strange that she had met him
coming to Paris for her big adventure. The trip had gotten off to a rough start with the
stolen bag. But she was surprised how safe she felt with Bart.
She stayed until one-thirty, and Bart wouldn’t let her go home alone. She thanked
Ryan and Véronique for a wonderful New Year’s Eve, and wished them a happy year
ahead.
“I think it will be,” Ryan said, looking tenderly at Véro, and they obviously had a
secret they didn’t want to share yet. Halley had a feeling she knew what it was, but
didn’t say anything to Bart. She saw them kiss, as she and Bart were leaving to take her
home. She was thinking as they left that despite her mistakes, and Bart’s, with his forced
marriage and her decision to have the twins out of wedlock at such an early age, their
children had done things right, and had chosen the partners that truly suited them, and
were together because they wanted to be, not because they had to be, pregnant at the
wrong time with the wrong person. Halley had no regrets and the twins had been the joy
of her life, but Locke had played such a small part in her life and the girls’, and Bart had
married a woman he didn’t love, and it had only lasted for a couple of years. They had
both chosen the wrong partners, but had lovely children anyway. And as a result of their
youthful mistakes, neither she nor Bart had ever married or remarried.
“You did a great job with Ryan,” she said as they walked to find a cab. There were
horns honking and people laughing and shouting in the street to celebrate the new year.
“I can’t take all the credit for that. My ex-wife was a good mother, even though she
was just a kid herself. We weren’t suited to each other, but she was always there for
him, and he has a good relationship with both of us. Sometimes I think that’s more to his
credit than ours. He’s a good guy. Did your daughters suffer from not having a father
around all the time?”
“Not really,” she said, thinking about it. “They never had that, so they didn’t miss it.
Maybe they did in theory, but in reality they were happy children, and they got extra
attention from me. They never went through a divorce or a sense of loss about their
father. He came around from time to time, like a big playmate. He was like a child
himself. And when they were thirteen, I met a wonderful man, who was more of a father
to them than their own.”
“What happened to him? Is he still in their life?”
“No,” she said softly. “He died three years ago. That was the hardest thing my
daughters and I had ever been through. Robert and I lived together for ten years, and I’m
grateful we all had those years with him. It was an added gift in their lives, and mine.”
“And now?” Bart asked her, wondering if there was someone in her life at home. He
didn’t think so, but he wanted to be sure before he made a fool of himself, or did
something she didn’t want. He was so drawn to her, he wanted to be sure that the
attraction was mutual and he hadn’t misread it, but she didn’t seem like the kind of
woman who would kiss him if she had a man waiting for her at home.
“It took me a long time to get over losing him, but I feel peaceful about it now. One
day you wake up and realize you’re ready to go on. Robert wasn’t a sad person, and he
was a very generous man. I don’t think he would have wanted me to be alone forever,”
she said quietly. They stopped walking, and Bart gently put his arms around her and
kissed her, and afterward, they kept walking in the direction of her house.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever really been in love,” Bart said. “I put all my energy and
feelings into my work and Ryan. I never wanted to get tied down to the wrong person
again. And I never met the right one.” He wanted to add “until now,” but it was too soon
to know that for sure. It felt that way, and he wanted time to get to know her so he didn’t
make another mistake. But she seemed like a very special person.
When they reached her house, he waited while she unlocked the door. He walked
her inside and kissed her again. He was gentle and tender, and he made it easy for her to
come back from where she’d been for the past three years.
He left after a few minutes, waiting outside until she set the alarm and signaled to
him from the window, and he smiled and waved, and walked back to Ryan’s apartment,
thinking what sweet times he and Halley had ahead of them if everything they were
discovering about each other turned out to be true in time. It was too soon to know, but
he loved being with her. She was an honorable woman, and everything about it felt
right. He had only seen her three times, but he felt wonderful when he was with her.
—
The boat stayed at anchor off Antigua on New Year’s Eve. It sounded more festive
and fun to celebrate on the boat, among good friends. The chef prepared an exquisite
meal. They had crab and lobster that had been flown in for them, and pasta with caviar.
They laughed a lot at dinner, and danced on deck afterward. There was a constant
friendly banter between all of them, some more than others. They had turned out to be
the perfect group to travel with, and had made memories they would never forget.
It was Seth and Valerie’s first married Christmas, and at midnight Peter kissed
Olivia with all the passion that had brought them closer every day, and the others smiled
at them.
After he had kissed her, he whispered to her, “If you tell me that you and Valerie
switched tonight, I’m going to throw you overboard,” and she laughed.
“That might be fun,” she taunted him, and he advanced on her, picked her up, and
threw her into the water. He took off his clothes and joined her, and Seth and Valerie
followed a few minutes later. The others watched them from the upper deck. The water
was warm and soothing, and the lights from the underside of the boat cast a bright light
into the water and they could see schools of small fish scurrying past them. The crew
had put gardenias with candles on them on the water. It was an incredible vision, seeing
the flowers in the candlelight floating around them. It had been the best New Year’s Eve
of their lives.
