The Book of Lost Names(73)

She quickened her pace, her muscles tensed to flee if necessary, but after a few seconds, the German turned down another alleyway. She was practically running now, but as she turned onto the broader rue Valadon leading to the town square, the German was nowhere to be seen. Had she imagined that he was tailing her? Perhaps he hadn’t even been the same man she’d seen the night before; it had been dark in the church.

Her gut told her she’d been right, though. Something was amiss. She changed directions and headed for one of the only other people in town she trusted.

The bookstore seemed empty when Eva entered a few minutes later, but the chimes on the door alerted Madame Noirot, who came rushing out with a smile on her face that fell the moment she saw Eva’s expression.

“My dear?” she asked, crossing to Eva quickly and placing both palms on her cheeks. “What is it? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

For a second, Eva faltered. What was she doing here? After all, Père Clément was close to Madame Noirot; what if she was in on the betrayal, too? Then Eva gazed around at all the beautiful books, and she looked back into the wide, concerned eyes of the woman who’d been the first to make her feel welcome here, and she felt something inside of her break. If Madame Noirot had ill intentions, too, nothing made sense anymore. She needed to trust someone, and Madame Noirot seemed like her best bet. “I—I was in the church last night and overheard Père Clément talking to a German soldier.”

Madame Noirot blinked a few times and let her hands fall from Eva’s face. “Well? What were they saying?”

“Something about some Germans who were expected to arrive soon. And a list. I think Père Clément gave him a list of some sort. It—it seemed quite suspicious.”

“There must be an explanation.”

“What if there isn’t?”

Madame Noirot’s knuckles were white as she squeezed Eva’s hands. “Eva, don’t do anything foolish. Père Clément has done nothing but help you, and I’ve seen him risk his life to help others, too. We owe him the benefit of the doubt.”

Eva hung her head. “I know.” It was why she hadn’t said anything to Madame Travere. But she was terrified. “I’ve been trying to find Faucon. He’ll know what to do.”

“And you’re so sure you can trust him?”

Eva nodded. They had history—and he’d already done so much to help the cause. “Yes, I am.”

“Still, I think you should speak to Père Clément first. Once you’ve spoken to Faucon, it’s out of your hands, isn’t it? And sometimes, the underground reacts before they have all the facts. They’re running scared, too, you know, and fear doesn’t always make for clear heads.”

Eva nodded slowly. Madame Noirot was right. Still, she was terrified. What if talking to Père Clément was, in effect, signing her own death warrant? “If something happens to me…”

“I will find Faucon and tell him. And I will look out for your mother. But, dear, I don’t think you have anything to fear.”

“I hope you’re right,” Eva said softly. “In any case, I know it’s something I must do.” After all, she was already living on borrowed time. Every moment that had passed since the July roundup in Paris had been one she shouldn’t have had. And it had been Père Clément who had given her life here a purpose. There was nothing to do but walk into the fire and hope she wasn’t burned alive.

“Good luck, my dear,” Madame Noirot said. “I will be praying for you.”



* * *



Eva left the bookshop deep in thought. She needed to confront Père Clément right away, before she lost her courage. The only thing to do was to head for the church to find him. At least in the middle of the day, it would be more perilous for him to do her harm if her instincts were wrong. Whom was she kidding, though? If he was allied with the Germans, she was already doomed. That thought, strangely, made her feel better, for if that was the case, there was nothing to lose.

“Eva!” A whisper from the shadows stopped her abruptly as she hurried toward the church. She looked in the direction of the voice, but there was no one there.

“Eva!” the voice came again, and then Père Clément stepped from the alley to her right, a hat pulled low over his face.

Her heart stopped. True, she had been on her way to speak with him, but she wasn’t ready yet. She didn’t have her thoughts in order, nor did she have an escape plan. Her eyes darted from side to side, and she forced a smile to buy time. “Père Clément, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, Eva.” He stepped from the shadows, frowning. “I usually find you in the church library this time of day.”

“I—I had some things I needed to do.”

He stared at her, long and hard. “You overheard me in the church last night, didn’t you?”

Eva could feel her cheeks growing warm. “I—I don’t know what you mean.”

As he studied her face intently, she couldn’t help realizing that beneath his weariness, his eyes looked sad. “Have you told anyone yet?”

She hesitated. “No.” If he was going to hurt her, he would also go after anyone else who knew.