CHAPTER 5 #2
‘No, he is not,’ interrupted the inspecteur, who also appeared perturbed at the turn the conversation was taking.
‘I can’t believe you are being so blasé.’
‘We have limited resources, Mademoiselle James, très désolé. One of my colleagues suggested Maisy Bell may be doing this to make her name for the cinema. Get her picture in print. Many actresses come here seeking—’
‘Seeking what? Maisy Bell was asking for what?’ Charlie pushed Officer Rose for an answer through gritted teeth.
‘Let me clarify,’ Inspecteur Bernard jumped in. ‘We are not suggesting that any beautiful young woman is asking for the attention of a man. I work with enough smart women to know that is absurd.’ He gave Charlie a pointed look over his glasses.
‘So, Maisy Bell was asking for what?’ Charlie repeated. She knew the inspecteur was not a misogynist; nevertheless, she wanted to hear what this young police officer really thought happened to Maisy Bell.
‘One of Officer Rose’s colleagues suggested’—Bernard tapped the photo—‘that Maisy Bell might have arranged this for publicity.’
‘Publicity?’ repeated Charlie, still in disbelief at their attitudes.
‘Well, she is an aspiring actress, oui?’ Officer Rose said in his patronising tone. ‘Pretty, certainement. Talented?’ He shrugged. ‘One way to get your name in the papers is a sensational story.’
Charlie’s cheeks burned. ‘Are you suggesting, Officer Rose, that I’m being manipulated into running this story simply so Miss Bell can get her name up in lights across Paris and the States?’
‘I’m suggesting nothing of this nature,’ he snapped, offended.
‘I’m merely doing you the honour of sharing some opinions of other members of the police.
We have missing persons in Paris all the time, especially in summer.
Peak tourist season. It is our job to explore every possibility.
Perhaps Maisy Bell had her own reasons for disappearing? That’s all I’m saying.’
‘Except the one, it seems, where Miss Bell is being held against her will by an unknown man somewhere near Saint-Cloud. Or anywhere.’ Charlie threw up her hands in frustration. The police were not exploring every possibility.
‘She sent a telegram clearly stating she was extending her visit.’
‘Someone could have sent that pretending to be Maisy,’ Charlie retorted.
‘C’est possible.’ Officer Rose shrugged again. ‘But we cannot police and verify every holiday telegram sent in Paris.’ He looked at Charlie as though she’d lost her mind.
‘I’m not asking you to do that. I’m asking you to pay attention, because a young woman is missing.’
‘A young woman who has clearly stated she is enjoying a holiday with a new acquaintance.’
‘Have you been able to trace the person with whom she allegedly went to Saint-Cloud?’
Officer Rose shrugged yet again. ‘There was no one Swiss, and no one named Louis, registered at the hotel, but he could have been there for aperitifs. The Ritz is popular with a fast, young crowd in summer and Lady Ashworth’s fundraiser wasn’t exclusive.
’ He scratched his nose and started to look bored, which only served to infuriate Charlie even more.
She was not letting the officer leave yet.
‘Miss Bell could be in Switzerland by now.’
‘I know you are thinking I’m an arrogant man, dismissing this young woman, making assumptions,’ Officer Rose said. ‘But I am simply going on the evidence I have before me.’
Charlie reached into her satchel and slipped a note across the desk.
‘Does this change things? Clementine Bell gave me this note at the Ritz this morning.’
She ignored Officer Rose’s outstretched hand and slid the letter towards Inspecteur Bernard, who adjusted his glasses to read it.
‘Why did Mademoiselle Bell not bring this note to the police?’
‘Oh.’ Charlie gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘I can’t imagine.
Maybe because it’s been over a week and no one in the Metro Police believes Maisy Bell’s disappearance is remotely suspicious.
But hopefully once you read this, you will change your mind.
’ Charlie watched Inspecteur Bernard unfurl the note and hold it neatly between both hands.
Mrs Bell, please run these letters in the newspaper …
The inspecteur kept reading as Charlie spoke. ‘The letter specifies that Madame Bell run a plea in the newspaper. There is also talk of a ransom drop to come.’
Luxembourg Gardens, Lake Nord steps at noon tomorrow. Bring 5000 francs. Tell NOBODY. No Police!
‘I presume the Tell nobody part had Clementine and Mason Bell scared. They want Maisy back safely. The Metro Police do not seem to share the family’s sense of urgency.’
Officer Rose said nothing, clearly shocked about the new direction this conversation was taking. His frown suggested he was unimpressed Charlie had seen this note first and was a step ahead of the police.
‘Something feels opportunistic about this note,’ Charlie continued.
‘That hurried, childlike scrawl. The ransom demand. The broken sentences. A premeditated kidnapping would not be so incoherent. It’s almost like this was written on the fly.
Or by someone less educated. Not someone multilingual and well travelled. ’
Officer Rose replied, ‘Mademoiselle Bell said her niece’s gentleman friend was Swiss, but she herself is américaine.
’ Charlie couldn’t help noticing the slightest trace of disdain in his voice.
He was stalling, still trying to catch up on the note, and picking flaws in Charlie’s case rather than examining the evidence before him.
‘Perhaps Mademoiselle Bell’s ear is not finely tuned to the nuances of European accents?
Could this mystery man have been russe, Croat, Italian, French or German with an overlying accent?
He spoke English but with a thick accent.
Mademoiselle Bell identified him as Swiss because he told her so, but if she could not pick the accent—though she swears it was “Swiss”—this man could be Russian for all we know.
Perhaps his other languages were not as developed. He had broken English.’
Charlie thought of Violet and her seven and a half languages. ‘Multilingual people tend to be more adept, have better handwriting, not worse. These letters do not show a good command of written language, do they?’
‘True!’ the young officer answered with grudging admiration.
‘You may go now, Officer Rose. Thank you for your time.’
The officer nodded at Charlie, who simply said, ‘Merci, au revoir.’
When the young man had closed the door behind him, the inspecteur said, ‘Thank you for bringing us this. We’ll have some investigators look at the handwriting. Do you have the envelope it was delivered in? Perhaps there was a postage watermark or stamp.’
‘No envelope, it was folded in two and delivered by a small errand boy. According to the concierge, the child looked like a street urchin. He’d never seen the boy before. No sign of said child near the hotel, of course.’ She shook her head, frustrated that trail had already gone cold.
‘May we?’ The inspecteur waved the letter at Charlie.
‘Keep it, of course. You see the warning, No Police! I worry we’re jeopardising Maisy’s life by sharing this with you. But it’s the right thing to do.’ Charlie nodded. ‘Clementine Bell took some convincing, though.’
‘Merci for not being a vigilante,’ the inspecteur said graciously. ‘I don’t need to tell you how quickly things can go wrong …’
He looked at her pointedly and Charlie’s breath caught in her throat. She saw such sorrow in his eyes.
‘Mademoiselle James, I’m so sorry …’
‘That’s all behind us now. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have stopped me.’
‘Alas, no. You are powerful. A force! I’d never forgive myself if …’
Charlie reached over and placed her hand on the inspecteur’s.
It was strong and slender like a pianist’s. She had imagined this very hand exploring her body not so long ago. But that was not to be, as their professional relationship had come at great cost. ‘It’s not your fault,’ she repeated. ‘I would do it all again tomorrow to get the story.’
When the inspecteur spoke, it was so soft, Charlie had to lean in a little to hear.
‘I hope that never happens.’
They looked at each other, a sea of complex emotions swirling between them.
Charlie cleared her throat, aware that what she was about to say would upset this quiet truce they’d just brokered.
‘I should inform you, we’ve made a note of the rendezvous point for the ransom.’
‘Of course you have!’ The inspecteur sighed, exasperated, and then he held up his hand. ‘But can I ask—no, insist—that you leave this matter to the police?’
Charlie nodded, noting the worry in the inspecteur’s eyes. ‘I will. I can assure you that my editor, George, has seen this note and he agrees this is a story. We have not shared this ransom note with any other sources. We will not interfere.’
‘But?’
‘But I will be on location for the drop. Discreetly.’
The inspecteur’s mouth twitched with annoyance. ‘If I see you or anyone from your paper anywhere near this, I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice. You can tell your editor, George Roberts, that is a promise, not a warning.’
‘Noted,’ said Charlie, who had no intention of mentioning the inspecteur’s warning to her editor.
Keeping her editors and police informants onside was a tricky dance.
She couldn’t wait to leave the police station and scope the park to find a hidden spot from which to watch the ransom drop.
One that could not be seen by the alleged kidnappers or the police.
‘When will you run the article and these messages?’ asked the inspecteur, moving on to the next item for discussion.
‘I’ve already filed them. They will be in tomorrow’s paper.’
Bernard shook his head, but there was the faintest twitch of a smile in the corner of his mouth. He stood. ‘Until tomorrow, Mademoiselle James.’
‘Until tomorrow, Inspecteur Bernard.’
As Charlie left the office, she shivered. Whether it was fear of discovering the kidnapper or anticipation of working with the inspecteur again, she couldn’t say.
The Times, August 1938
Charlie James, Paris correspondent
Glamorous American heiress missing in Paris
Texan oil heiress, Maisy Anna Bell, has been reported missing in Paris. The 22-year-old was being accompanied on her trip by her aunt, Miss Clementine Bell, with whom she was sharing the Diamond Suite at the landmark Hotel Ritz.
Miss Bell was last seen just over a week ago on 9 August in the foyer of the Ritz, preparing to go on a day trip to Saint-Cloud with someone thought to be a Swiss national.
Miss Bell is 5ft 8in, of slim build, with blonde bob-length wavy hair, brown eyes and dimples in her cheeks when she smiles.
On the day she reportedly went missing, she was wearing a sky-blue belted skirt, red plaid top, black patent leather shoes, brown sports visor, white gloves and handbag and was carrying a camera.
The man allegedly accompanying Miss Bell to Saint-Cloud is suspected to be between 30 and 40, 6ft 1in, of medium build, with dark hair and a strong Swiss accent. He introduced himself as ‘Louis’.
A bystander at the Ritz has informed police that he saw Miss Bell circulating with guests in the hotel foyer and she ‘was the object of admiration from men and women alike’.
Maisy Bell’s family suspects Miss Bell is being detained against her will. However, the Cité Metro Police insist there is no evidence of foul play and have made no further comment on the case.
Any member of the public who has information about the whereabouts of the missing woman should contact the Cité Metro Police or our news desk.
Maisy’s family have requested The Times run the following messages:
Dear Maisy, please come home!
Maisy, why did you run away?
Maisy, where are you?