I check the reflections in the shop windows I pass by, scanning for any unusual movement and for suspicious, unfamiliar individuals. Familiar faces are another thing I look out for—anyone I may have seen in the bar or the lobby of my hotel. My expression is casual, and my gaze blasé. I don’t want to reveal that I’m surveying my surroundings. Satisfied that I’m not being followed, I continue to the address Charlie gave me.
A mix of contemporary apartment buildings and traditional houses line the streets of Novel. This is no concrete jungle. The vibrant greenery, from neatly trimmed hedges to the old trees, adds a touch of nature to the urban landscape, making it livable and pleasing to the eye.
I hope that Arthur Rosace, whom I did end up hiring albeit not to look for the key, has more luck with his investigation than I have so far!
When I arrive at Charlie’s apartment building, it’s six sharp as agreed. The sleek lines and reflective glass windows of her modern high-rise give the building a cold, contemporary feel. I look around unobtrusively while pressing the buzzer for her apartment.All clear.
“Hello?” her voice crackles through the intercom.
“Hi, it’s Darrel.”
The door unlocks with a soft click. I step inside and make my way through the pristine lobby to the elevator, which swiftly carries me to her floor.
I knock gently on her door, and it opens almost immediately.
“Darrel, welcome!” Charlie greets me with a warm smile. “Please, come in.”
I thank her for inviting me over and enter her home. The first thing that strikes me is how light and uncluttered the small space is. I don’t know Charlie that well yet, but from what I’ve seen of her, I would’ve been surprised to find a stuffy, cramped apartment.
“Follow me,” she says, leading me to the living room.
I notice the tasteful decor and catch the subtle scent of old books.
Charlie gestures toward a plush gray sofa. “Please, have a seat.”
I sink into the cushions as she settles into an armchair across from me. The coffee table between us displays a gorgeous arrangement of fresh flowers and a tray loaded with drinks and treats.
Antique books stand proudly on the shelves lining the walls. Their leather bindings and gold-embossed titles speak of the history they hold, but also of the passion Charlie has for her work. As for her choices of colors, artwork, and small decorative items, I find them impeccable.
This woman isn’t only pretty and smart, but she also knows how to make a home.Can a man dream of a better wife?
“Coffee or tea?” She points at the tray on the coffee table. “Chocolate chip cookies? I baked them this afternoon.”
No, really, fate has been kinder to me than I deserve.
I ask for a cup of tea and a cookie.
She pours the tea with the elegance of a Japanese geisha. “Any luck at the Pernouds?”
I recap my unsuccessful visit.
“Damn,” she says. “OK, let’s think. Where would Mom have taken Queen Charlotte’s key?”
Since I have no clue, I answer her question with a question, “What ‘home’ could she have had in mind, if not Hugues Pernoud’s? A place associated with Queen Charlotte herself?”
“But of course!” Charlie beams. “The original owner!”
“Wasn’t Charlotte’s mother, Anne of Cyprus, the original owner? You told me that Charlotte had gotten the keys from her mother.”
“That’s what the manuscript claims.” She rubs her neck. “Mind you, I read it years ago.”
“You still have the copy your mom made, right?”
Please say yes!I’d rather not go to Vosier-en-Haut if I can help it.
“I do,” Charlie confirms. “We can read it together. I can also make a copy for you, too.”
“That would be amazing!” I bite into my cookie which tastes as good as it smells. “If Anne of Cyprus was the first recorded owner, do you think I should focus my search on her locations, wherever they may be?”
