Page 17, “The Persuasion”
Twenty minutes of cross-examination later—credentials, motives, and identification of people we knew in common, he said I could meet him at four the next afternoon at the café at Pont Neuf.
I didn’t immediately catch that he was referring to the one around the corner from our hotel, where mon ami and I had sometimes sat at a tiny outdoor table examining our take from Shakespeare & Company nearby.
“The sign only says Café. Go inside. Do not sit outside. Sit at the table under the ‘Breathless’ poster and wait until you see a nondescript guy with a black ponytail. Herald Trib under my arm. I’ll unfold and fold it—twice.”
“I’ve got dirty-blonde hair and I’ll be descript in an orange dress but I’ll skip the newspaper under my arm.”
He didn’t laugh.
“Some of the guys will be at the café, and if you check out with them and me, maybe you can go with us tomorrow to meet Daniel.”
“Gotcha. Four o’clock, Herald Trib, Breathless,” I said.