CHAPTER 7Outside the bookshop evening had turned into night, bringing a cold breeze into the city. A fuel barge glided past on the dark river. Its lights were diffused by mists that rose off the surface and drifted upward among the spires and gargoyles of Notre Dame.
My Renault 5 was around the corner in Rue Saint Jacques. There was a two-hundred-franc ticket tucked under the windshield wiper. No surprise. I had left the car on the sidewalk. All the legitimate parking spaces had been taken for blocks around when I’d arrived. I stuck the ticket in the glove compartment to be added onto the expense sheet the Byrnes would get when the job was done.
Taking off my jacket, I got the sweater from the back seat, shivering from the night chill until I had both of them back on. I drove to the Pont
