The Seven Turns of the Snail's Shell: A Novel Read Online Free

screeching stop just inches in front of the miniature brigade. As they revved the engine and reversed their direction, Lucie motioned to her sous-chef. The man went into action instantly. As the second motorcycle attempted a speedy retreat back down the alley, the sous-chef lowered the loading dock just in front of them. With a crash it came down, and the paparazzi were trapped.
    “ Où allez-vous ? What do you think you are doing?” yelled Jacques angrily. He stepped forward, motioning to the army behind him to hold their position. “See what a mess you have made of my Sunday menu? The cabbages for the chou-croute are all over the cobblestones.”
    “And the leeks,” Lucie added, her Gallic arms flying. “My leeks for the soup.”
    “We were so looking forward to the morilles .” La Bergère shook his head in disgust.
    The two who had crashed into the wall finally managed to get up and were picking salad greens out of their clothing. The motley army and the stunned paparazzi faced each other.
    In all the chaos, no one had noticed that Narbon was missing.
    Narbon was an old man, but in his Résistance days he was the most athletic of Les Amis , and he was still wiry and quick. As the SAMU sped out of the alley, he scurried into the courtyard of the hotel next door to the restaurant, crossed it, and arrived in the rue du Gros-Horloge just as the truck pulled around the corner.
    Diamanté spotted him. It had been years since the two had seen each other, but the slight profile with the oversized beret and the thick, dark, square-rimmed glasses was unmistakable. He had seen it many times in the shadows, planting dynamite under bridges, behind buildings waiting for rendezvous with escapees, beneath trees in the dark forest waiting for planes. He briefly wondered to himself how André had managed to appear in Rouen at this very moment, but this was no time to question Jacques’ decision. He motioned to the driver to halt.
    “We can’t very well do that, now, can we?” the young man objected. “What do you want us to do? Get out and give a press conference, old man?”
    “Your replacement.” Diamanté pointed to Narbon, now hurriedly approaching. “You realize your absence will be noted if you are not back at your post in two to three hours.” He was correct; the driver was an employee of the British Embassy. It would not be smart for him to be reported missing after his break.
    The driver pulled up, got out, and reluctantly allowed Narbon to take over the wheel.
    “Go around to the main entrance of the restaurant and wait in the bar.” Narbon spoke to him in low tones. “Have a cigarette. Act nonchalant. They are expecting you. You will be driven back to Paris immediately.”
    Narbon hauled himself into the driver’s seat and nodded in Diamanté’s direction. “Jacques has everything under control.” There was no warmth between them. The SAMU lurched and sped off toward their destination, the port of Le Havre.
    “ Alors , so, mon frère , why didn’t the Brits get the Yanks to do this job? The CIA or something? They would have been eager to do it.”
    Diamanté gave Narbon a hard look. “No one will suspect a bunch of old fighters like us. We can be trusted to do this quietly. The Yanks would bring in the big helicopters and artillery, probably a tank or two for good measure. And the whole operation would appear live on the evening news…Hollywood style.” He chuckled to himself. Secretly, he liked the Americans, an opinion that he, Jacques, and particularly André Narbon had not shared.
    “ Eh bien , André, what brought you to Rouen just at this moment?”

CHAPTER 6
     
I have reached the point where the Seine begins…and ends. Where a story I have in mind begins…and perhaps will end. I sit on a bench on the quay in Le Havre, the wind blowing in my face. The sea is gray, angry, troubled. I taste the salt as droplets of water in the air fall on my lips.
    A nna paused from writing in her journal and