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CHAPTER FORTY

THE PARIS APARTMENT

T he ring was Percy’s main purpose for returning to Paris. That and to get away from all the trauma of London and Scotland. There was still no trace of Molly. Cleo had been reported missing by her husband some weeks back, but given he was a tyrant, friends, family, and police took the view she was more likely to have fled from him than to have come to any harm. A few media outlets dropped the suggestion that he may have been instrumental in her disappearance, but then, a few days later, they reported that she had contacted police in Hungary, and was no longer considered a missing person.

The trail being cold, there was little for them to do but wait. And why not wait it out in style?

Having arrived in the city around midday, the six of them—Percy, Joe, Althea, Leo, Cleo, and Moxie—had gone for a spot of lunch. Percy, dressed in an appallingly attractive brown three-piece suit, had soon announced he had a matter to attend to, tapped Leo’s arm, and wandered off with instructions for the others to meet them in Montmartre three hours hence.

This was, by now, standard Percy behaviour, which got little more than an eye roll from Joe, which made Percy even less inclined to leave him, but engagement rings are serious business.

Joe and Althea, skull in hand, cat in tow, had few complaints about finishing their wine by the Seine, then meandering their way across town on an impromptu shopping spree. Althea had received her first payment from Percy, and as such, had decided, like Leo, to dedicate her life to the art of crime. She bought more gaudy clothes than Percy was likely to cope with, while Joe kept himself to too much food and a few books. Then he took Althea with him on one last errand that she was to keep top secret from Percy.

He had dressed as a priest that morning and mentioned to Percy that he wanted to call into a church alone. Percy had been the usual mixture of displeased beneath but encouraging on the surface, with a little extra of the latter, given that it would, at least, keep Joe wrapped up and well away from what he was doing.

Joe didn’t take long to complete his final task of the afternoon, and when the group met again, it was on Rue Blanche, in Montmartre, where they gathered before a bright red door set into the pale stone of Haussmann’s Paris. Those last three hours were all the time Percy and Joe had spent apart after two weeks recovering in London, and they were like teenagers when they found one another on the street again. Percy’s hand slipped straight over Joe’s belt to pull him in for a kiss. Joe’s arms were around Percy, and it was a moment that Percy, back when their adventure had begun in earnest months earlier, could never have imagined coming.

Joe freed himself, only slightly, from Percy’s embrace and nodded to a plaque on the wall that informed strangers they were at the onetime apartment of Edgar Degas. “We’re going on an art tour?”

“No.” Percy stepped forward, slid his key into the lock, and opened the red door. “We’re home.”

Leo and Althea went in first, running up the stairs with Moxie and Cleo, while Joe stood on the street, hands in pockets, looking at Percy. “It’s his old apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Yet you never mentioned that.”

Percy’s smile was both coy and sweet. “I don’t want you to get bored of me.”

Joe laughed and made his way over to Percy, stopping in the doorway, his hand toying with the top button of Percy’s shirt. “Home, huh? Your little place in Montmartre?”

Percy took a few seconds to enjoy the moment, the image of him. Joe’s hair in the soft afternoon sunshine. Joe with groceries, exactly like he was coming home, to their home, to spend a very normal evening together. “I told you, we’ll do whatever you like, live wherever you want. But it’s mine, so… that means it’s yours too.”

Joe smiled. Joe kissed him right there on what had just become their doorstep.

That sapphire ring felt hot and heavy in Percy’s pocket. Maybe now? Maybe this was the perfect moment? Right now, bringing him home, right here on the threshold of their new life. So simple. So easy. What could be better?

Percy’s hand slid into his pocket. “Joe?—”

“Percy!” Leo shouted down the stairs. “You need to take a look at this.”

The urgency that sharpened Leo’s voice propelled Percy, two stairs at a time, up to his apartment. Leo stepped back, held the door wide, and Percy let go such a thoroughly unpublishable list of expletives that it cannot possibly be recorded here.