My name was written across the front of the envelope in a feminine hand. What was this? I tore it down and carried it with me out to my Jeep. I got in...and opened it up. It contained a piece of paper that read: “I hope you’re going to remember me. My name is Nia and I met you at my family picnic this weekend. I don’t know how to start so I’m just going to lay it out and be honest--I’ve got to have you. The moment I saw you I knew I just had to have you inside me. Here’s my number . . . you. He will lodge with his uncle and aunt during term time, and as he knows Paris quite well starting at the Sorbonne will not be as difficult for him as for those new to the city, and with no relatives resident.”Courvoisier smiled, and nodded in agreement. He turned to leave but I stayed him.“I wonder, Monsieur Courvoisier, if I could have a word with you regarding Brigadier Blanchard? The Brigadier’s wife, Annette, adopted Mimi, her sister, and their cousin. Alas, Annette died some fifteen years. More

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