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matter up when he confers with the General von Schaumburg at their weekly briefing. It is tomorrow, I believe. Yes … yes, now that I have thought the matter over, I am absolutely certain it is always on a Monday unless something interferes.’
    Ah damn …
    When the man joined him, Kohler drew him aside into deeper darkness but still, though he wanted to, could not find the stomach to offer a cigarette. It would be too much like bribery in any case, particularly as tobacco was almost always in such short supply.
    â€˜Begin at the beginning. Leave nothing out.’
    â€˜Of course. Part of my beat includes the Jardin d’Acclimatation, particularly the children’s zoo, and amusement park. Sunday afternoons are busy, even in winter At fifteen-fifty seven hours I was patrolling near the Norman farm. Monsieur Amirault, the custodian of the doves, he has hurried to summon me. A murder, a child, the Sandman. Together we have run from there to the riding stables, then to the clay-pigeon shoot, and from there to the cage. He … he is also in charge of the clay pigeons. Sometimes one of the Boches, the Germans … Ah, excuse me, Inspector. Sometimes they … they command him to release a few doves so as to … to perfect their target practice.’
    Hence the custodian’s absence during the murder, was that it, and all carefully thought out so as to have an answer ready? ‘We’ll see. We’ll have to ask him ourselves.’
    â€˜As you wish, Inspector. We are here to assist you.’
    I’ll bet, thought Kohler, snorting inwardly and cursing Talbotte for the bastard he was. Police couriers must have been hurtling back and forth. ‘Was anything other than her identity card touched?’
    â€˜Anything else …? But … but … Ah no, of course not. I have simply leaned over her to tease the ID out, then have put it back just as I found it with … with the pocket torn a little.’
    â€˜But to get at it you would have had to dig into each pocket?’
    â€˜I was lucky. The left pocket. I had no need to try the other one.’
    â€˜Good. Then tell me who lifted her change purse?’
    Ah merde , had it been stolen? ‘But … but there was no purse, Inspector. I swear it.’
    â€˜Yet she comes to the Bois without a sou? An heiress to what?’
    â€˜Billions.’
    â€˜Sweat a little, mon fin . Think about it, eh? To say there was no purse is to imply you had a thorough look. Let honesty touch your heart lest we haul you in, and haul we will if we have to. As sure as that God of my partner’s made heiresses, He gave them the wits to take along a little change for the pony rides.’
    â€˜I … I will have to ask the others.’
    â€˜You do that. Now lead me to the custodian. Maybe it’s his tongue that needs loosening.’

    â€˜Two girls,’ said St-Cyr softly to the victim as the doves watched him with such sorrowful eyes he knew they were freezing. ‘School friends who tried to switch identities. Both of you would have worn your school uniforms under your coats, since the hems of the skirts, the lower parts of the socks, the boots and gloves would have been seen. Yes, yes, am I right? The braids perhaps tucked underneath your hats and your coat collars turned up to further hide the difference in your hair—ah! yours is indeed turned up. Everything would have matched, but then what would be the sense of switching coats? A mistake, you say? A restaurant? A cup of that ersatz hot chocolate which tastes like clay and is not made with milk but with saccharine added? Ah no, my little friend.’ He sadly shook his head. ‘These days no one—I repeat no one—hangs their coat up in a public place for fear of theft. It’s usually far too cold inside anyway. No, you see the switch was deliberate. We have the note you dropped. Je t’aime . Presumably, since it was in your hand when