Chasing Mona Lisa by Tricia Goyer & Mike Yorkey

Author:Tricia Goyer & Mike Yorkey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042030, FIC042060, FIC027110, Art thefts—Investigation—Fiction, France—History—German occupation (1940–1945)—Fiction, World War (1939–1945)—Confiscations and contributions—France—Fiction
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group

Colonel Heller, with flushed face, felt his blood pressure rising from frustration. The pounding pulse filled his ears as he strangled the phone receiver.

“I called Paris yesterday,” he bellowed. “What do you mean—the telephone lines are down? Von Choltitz surrendered without firing a shot!”

“But sir,” the operator interrupted, “we’ve had sporadic success all morning—wait, the line just connected. I’ll ring you through.”

“Bonjour, Musée du Louvre.”

Heller took a long breath to steady himself, then slipped into French. He was careful to tone down his German accent.

“Are you open today?”

“For visitors, non, we are closed,” replied the female voice.

“I thought maybe with Libération, everyone would be at the Louvre celebrating.” Heller forced a lilt. The pretense of delight with events of the last twenty-four hours grated his nerves.

“No, we are closed today, except for a minimal staff. We expect to reopen in a week, monsieur.”

“Actually, I was looking for someone, one of your curators, Mademoiselle Perriard.”

“She’s not in today, sir. I suggest you call back Monday.”

The call clicked, and the operator was back on the line.

“I want you to try another number.” Heller looked back at his file and then dictated the phone number to Colette Perriard’s apartment. A voice answered, although it didn’t sound like Colette.

“I’m looking for Colette Perriard. Is she there?”

“No, I’m sorry, monsieur,” said a female voice. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning. I believe she is with her boyfriend.”

Heller thought for a moment. “Is there a phone number? It is urgent that I speak with her.”

“Let me see . . . yes, she left it.”

Heller noted the number and thanked the roommate with flowery language.

He hung up and dialed the operator again, hoping that the lines stayed open.

This time, his luck had run out. Slamming the phone down, he took a deep breath and ordered himself to remain calm.

The German colonel opened a small notebook and turned to a dog-eared page. There were several entries lined through; the last one was the name of a chateau and a village.

If he didn’t reach Colette by tomorrow, then Schaffner and Kaufman would have to go with this one.

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