Free Murder in the Latin Quarter by Susan Kiernan-Lewis Page B

put a hand on the stroller and another on Delphine’s elbow as they maneuvered down the sidewalk to the nearest side street. It was cobblestoned and Mila squealed with delight as they bumped roughly over the stones. The noise from the Boulevard Saint-Germain was loud even from this distance.
    They emerged from the alley and saw the entrance to the park before them. “It’s beautiful,” Maggie said.
    â€œWhen I was young I would often come to this park from the old neighborhood with my friends.”
    They entered the park and Maggie looked around at the benches, the pigeons, the young women minding their toddlers as they played in the grass.
    â€œWhat did you used to do here?”
    Delphine laughed. “I am sure it would sound very old-fashioned to you.”
    â€œI like to imagine you at eighteen walking through this same park,” Maggie said as she rearranged Mila in her stroller and re-tucked in her blanket. “In the States, nothing stays the same. My mom was raised in Atlanta same as I was but there’s very little that’s still there from her time.”
    â€œPerhaps that is the better way.”
    Maggie gave her a skeptical look. “Do you really think so?”
    Delphine smiled. “ Non . It helps, I think, to have some things stay the same.” She waved an arm at the park. “That I would stroll this same park with my great-grand niece in 2016 and also have memories of sitting on that bench with Camille, gossiping and smoking cigarettes—” Delphine’s face softened and tears gathered in her eyes.
    â€œWas Camille your best friend?” Maggie asked.
    Delphine gazed at the park as if she was seeing a different time unfold before her.
    â€œShe was,” she said softly.
    â€œThat was the girl in the picture with you, wasn’t it?” Maggie asked. “The one where you’re standing with your arms around each other?”
    Delphine nodded, still gazing outward. “ Oui .”
    â€œYou looked close, like sisters.”
    Delphine wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before smiling at Mila. Whatever had just happened, the spell was broken.
    â€œShe was much better than that,” Delphine said. “I had three sisters and we fought all the time. Georgette was forever stealing my clothes and using up what little makeup I had. Jacqueline was prim and stern—not someone you felt comfortable confiding in. No, Camille was the best of all imaginable friends. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”
    â€œWhere is she now?” Immediately Maggie bit her tongue for asking the question. There weren’t many who made it to Delphine’s age. At best, Camille was in a nursing home somewhere. At worst…
    Delphine took in a long breath as if steeling herself to answer. “She was arrested,” she said.
    â€œOh my gosh, that’s terrible. Was she Jewish?”
    â€œNo, Maggie,” Delphine said. She put a hand on the stroller handle as if to support herself. “She wasn’t arrested by the Germans.”
    Maggie’s knowledge of the war was sketchy but even she knew the wartime French government was considered nearly as bad as the Nazis.
    â€œThe Vichy?”
    Delphine snorted as if even the mention of the name was cause for scorn.
    â€œ Non , chérie ,” she said. “Camille was arrested after Paris was liberated.”
    Maggie felt a needle of anxiety invade her chest. She could see the shame in Delphine’s face as she recalled her dear friend. Arrest after Paris was liberated could only mean that Camille had committed a crime in the eyes of the Resistance.
    â€œDid she collaborate with the Germans?” Maggie asked in a whisper.
    â€œShe was not a collabo ,” Delphine said fiercely. “She was in love . She passed no secrets. She betrayed no vow. She simply fell in love with the wrong man.”
    They walked in silence down the curving asphalt