Treasure of Saint-Lazare

by John Pearce

  “It’s almost over. I heard from Thom Anderson today. The prosecutor wants to know if I’ll testify against Sommers when his trial starts in a couple of weeks.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Of course I’ll go. Sonny pleaded guilty and will testify, so it’s pretty certain Al will be in prison for the rest of his miserable life, however long or short that is. I hope you can go with me.”

  “And Jen?”

  “She closed the gallery. For renovations, the sign says, but no one has seen her recently. The government charged her with immigration fraud and it appears she may not have paid some customers the money she owed them when she sold their paintings, so I expect she’ll be pretty busy. Thom thinks she’s left town for good.”

  “Then I’ll trust you if I can’t get away,” she said with a smile.

  For the next half-hour they talked the everyday talk of settled lovers. They were a handsome couple, Eddie the well-dressed trans-Atlantic businessman approaching middle age, Aurélie ten years younger, a smart young woman from the provinces whose ambition had driven her to Paris and its universities, where she had starred as a student and stayed to become a teacher and blaze her own trail up the academic ladder.

  “Merde! Je suis en retard!” Aurélie looked at her watch, then jumped from her chair, bent for a quick kiss and headed up the sidewalk for her 7 p.m. class. Eddie signaled for the waiter and sat thinking about how she had smoothed the jagged course of his life as their relationship had matured. It was no longer all about sex, although that remained an important part, perhaps the single most important part. Now their quick coffee dates and the intimate chat they shared late at night centered on the future. Neither saw any reason to live anywhere but Paris, although Aurélie had been sounded out by prominent universities in Massachusetts, California and Berlin about visiting lecturer posts. Eddie had told her he would follow her if it would be a step forward for her academic career.

  “You have to remember that I’m 40 years old,” he told her one night. “I’ll support whatever you want to do, but I’m not looking for a new career. My school and running the family’s investments are enough for me.” Their discussions of children ended in the remote weeds of ambiguity, until Eddie realized Aurélie was one of those women with no real need for motherhood. Margaux had once been the same. Her attitude might change, especially because Paris was going through a baby boom. The métro cars and buses were crowded with baby carriages, and it seemed that every third young woman was pregnant. He would wait for her to sort out her own feelings.

  It was not that she could not take a firm position. Several times a week she told him he should give up using Eddie and become Édouard.

  “Dammit,” he told her one night, “I’ve been Eddie for 40 years, except to my mother. My father was Artie before me. It’s a cultural thing where we come from, and I’m happy with it.”

  “But Édouard, it’s just a better indication that you’re a serious grown man. I know that and your close friends know it, but it might be helpful other places.” But she didn’t push it too hard.

  He left enough coins on the table to cover the check and a small tip, then started down the hill toward Luxembourg Gardens, the first landmark in his 45-minute walk home to Rue Sainte-Roch.

  Well, he said to himself as he crossed Rue St. Jacques, Édouard does have a nice ring to it. Maybe I’ll give it a try. It can’t hurt, and if it makes Aurélie happy it’s worth doing.

  A PERSONAL REQUEST ...

  If you enjoyed Treasure of Saint-Lazare, please consider posting a review to Amazon.com and Goodreads.com so other readers will learn about it.

  The links are:

  Amazon.com: http://j.mp/UKIVVi

  Goodreads.com: http://j.mp/OKdIEX

  Watch for the sequel, planned for early 2013.

  Thanks for reading my novel.

  John Pearce

  Thanks to my advance readers…

  Whose suggestions added immeasurably to the final drafts. They read Treasure of Saint-Lazare carefully (some of them more than once) and were kind enough to give me detailed suggestions for changes and improvements.

  Errors and omissions, including failing to take their advice, are mine alone.

  Anthony Dalsimer, Sarasota, FL

  Kenneth Hulme, Ft. Myers, FL

  Robert Nugent, Clarkston, MI

  Jan Pearce, Sarasota, FL

  Paul Pearce, Conroe, TX

  Robert Reith, London

  Kirsten Schlyder, Paris

  Lynne Sloggett, Australia

  Helen Wentland, Australia

  Lesley Wilson, Waco, TX