The Siren of Paris by David Leroy Page A

forcing a smile.
    Larry began to pull himself away from his conversation with the other passenger and turned toward the foyer entrance.
    “We got lucky, I suppose, to get to Genoa in time. Ventimiglia was a riot and, had it not been for our American passports, I don’t think we would’ve made it,” Larry said.
    “I sure hope we get going soon. We’re sitting ducks out here,” the man said, looking out over the afternoon sea.
    “Well, I need to take my daughter for a walk,” Larry said. His eye caught a man leaving the foyer with a life jacket on, followed by a second person wearing a vest. He dropped his lit cigarette and made for the door.
    “David, will you get Larry for me?” Margarette turned to David as she tried to stop Majdouline from crying.
    “Why is your life jacket on?” Larry asked a fourth passenger he caught leaving the lounge.
    “U-boats. They saw a U-boat,” the older man said. Larry nearly knocked David over as he came through the lounge door.
    “Larry, will you …” Margarette stopped as she saw his face.
    “Get the jackets on. There is a U-boat,” Larry said, with no attempt to protect Robert or Majdouline from hearing him. His words snapped through the lounge like a bullet. They each quickly donned jackets and then left the lounge, followed by many others. Passengers gathered on the boat deck, searching the afternoon sea for some hint of what was to come next.
    The two officers returned to the bridge after their inspection, each wearing a life jacket.
    “Take those off. You are going to frighten the passengers,” the captain barked as he emerged from the navigation room.
    “We thought you ordered it.” The officers looked at one another and then back at the captain. “They told us we have seen a U-boat.” The captain’s face turned red with a grimace and expression of disgust. He took a few deep breaths and then took the microphone. “Request permission to leave now. U-boat.” He then looked out over the bridge and started to walk back to the navigation room but stopped. He turned and picked up his pace toward the radio room.
    “Yes, that is correct. Can you advise us how much longer?” the radio room officer said to the British officer on the other end. Just then, the captain took the transmitter from his hand and hit the button.
    “Five minutes more. Starting engines in five minutes. We have a U-boat in the area,” and then silence.
    “Sir, there is no U-boat. I have not been advised of any U—” Then the sound stopped as the captain hit the mic again.
    “You can keep the fucking mail. We don’t need it if you are going to let us take a hit like some goddamn sitting duck,” followed by total silence on the other end.
    “Over on the port side,” one passenger said to another.
    “Really?” the man asked the other man passing to the starboard deck.
    “I saw it myself, just missed us,” the woman said with a confident snort.
    “Do you think …?” Margarette looked up at David.
    “Think what?”
    “Well, that there really is a U-boat.”
    “Probably not,” David said, glancing back and forth over the passengers, “but I have to believe there must have been something. Otherwise, the crew would be calming everyone down.”
    Robert held Maji’s hand, and the Puddle-ducks of
The
Tale of Tom Kitten
rested face down on the cot, alone in the lounge.

Chapter 15
    June 3, 1940
Paris, France
     
    M arc decided to walk home instead of taking the Metro. He approached one of the main boulevards that led from the east train station. All along the road, people carried whatever baggage they could manage. A few were injured. Marc stood on the side of the street and watched as they passed. At first he was going to cross over, but then decided to join the crowd and walk for a bit.
    He knew after a few moments where they were going. He could overhear them speaking among themselves in French or Dutch. After crossing the Seine, and walking a few more blocks, Marc briefly lost