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The show ends. I turn off the TV and stride to my bathroom. Thirty minutes later, I’ve showered, brushed my teeth, and gotten into my pajamas. Only then do I knock on Camille’s door with an unread newspaper under my arm.
“Come in!” she calls.
She’s in bed propped against the pillows and reading a book in some god-awful pajamas. I take the other side of the bed and unfold my paper.
Camille shuts her book. “I think I have a new lead. To be more exact, I think I caught the tail of Carlo’s lead.”
“Does that lead have to do with the men you’ve been talking to in Tuileries?”
“Yes. And I need two hundred thousand euros.”
I stare at her. “That’s a big amount.”
“I’m aware of that. So, let me explain things properly.”
She rolls onto her side to face me and tells me about her latest discoveries. Camille now believes that a Parisian fun fair boss named Paco Ferré is the duke from Carlo’s note.
“That sounds far-fetched,” I say. “Also, why didn’t you tell me last night when you got the idea?”
“I didn’t catch Paco last night.” She shifts into a tailor sit so she’s facing me fully. “The idea was, like you said, far-fetched, so I was hesitant. I was hoping to confirm my hunch before sharing it with you.”
“And?”
“Paco Ferré who goes by ‘Duke of the Carnies’ was by the fun house when I arrived this afternoon. I couldn’t believe my luck.”
I tip my head to one side. “The mustachioed man that Grandpa’s detective observed is Paco the duke, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Did you tell him who you are? Did you reveal—”
“Of course not!” she interrupts me. “I told him I was a mime artist from Switzerland, looking for a spot to perform in Paris.”
“Clever.”
She grins. “More than clever! He basically started to interview me for a gig, and that gave me a chance to insert my own questions.”
“Were you able to find out what he knows about the palace fire?”
“He knows nothing about it.”
I give her a weary look. “Then you wasted your time.”
“That’s what I was telling myself until he said, ‘Oh, by the way, a few years back I hired another Swiss citizen, Joseph Wick. Joe is supervising the ghost train team this week. Go find him, and he’ll explain how we function.’”
I shift to sit more comfortably. “I’m assuming Joseph Wick is the black guy with a beard you talked to before your accident.”
“Yes. I knew there was more to him than met the eye almost immediately. He was way too circumspect for a regular person.”
“Did you manage to get something out of him?”
“We had a long conversation, and all he was willing to tell me about himself was that his job in Switzerland had had nothing to do with fun fairs,” she says. “His wife’s maternal grandparents were carnies, and that’s how he found his way into the carnival world.”
“That doesn’t strike me as useful information.”
“And that is why I decided to go for broke.” She pauses, her face glowing with excitement.
I wait for the big reveal.
