 I really just kill people all over Paris. That's kind of my job. I'm, yeah, you noticed. Yes, gets around. And I have to say, hiding a body these days in Paris is getting harder and harder. I actually have a friend who lives there who will go out with me, and this is true friendship. She'll go out with me and we'll be walking around. And I say, could you lie down just right here? Can I see, you know, would the hedge hide you and, you know, the time of day? And she does it, she's great. So, that's a friend. So, but tonight I'll talk about Murder on the Kay. And it's set in the Eighth arrondissement. You've probably been there. It's where the Arc de Triomphe is, the Champs-Élysées, right, what we think of is Paris. And it's also an area, it's bordered by the Seine and up at the top by the Parque Molso and over to the right by Garse and Lazar. Now, maybe you've gone to Garse and the train station. But in the 1800s or whenever the time of Impressionism was, that's when the Impressionists loved Garse and Lazar because it was a, you know, this is the rail line, the symbol of industry and modernity. Monet went and painted in the train station, all the steam billowing up from the locomotive over and over again. And, you know, also there was a painter called Caillobot, C-A-I-L-L-E-B-O-T-T-E, who's paintings you've seen, it's the quintessential kind of Paris. Those housemen buildings, broad boulevards, in the, you know, the cobblestones are glistening, people are bent in the wind or the rain, those, that's it. This is the État Rondissement. And it has the, not only Duchamp's Elysée, but the Palais de l'Elysée, where François Hollande lives, the man who's not very popular right now in France. It has mansions because it was very much the richest Cartier in Paris, you know, very chic. Big, huge townhouses, hotel particuliers, which now maybe sometimes they're owned and sometimes they're foundations or schools. Wonderful gardens behind them and little alleys. And you've just gotta know where to look or get lost and find yourself in a place you've never been, which is what happens to me. And that's the best part of my job, because that gets to go in the story. I will say that there is a part of it. My friend worked on Boulevard Hausmann, again, one of these big broad boulevards in a private bank. And I would take the bus and go and meet her at lunchtime and we would go to the Musée Jacques-Mar Andre, which you probably know beautiful. It's an old mansion that was, the Jacques-Mar Andre's had this Italian collection and donated it. Wonderful tea room inside. Now when I say tea room, that's misleading. It's like this, it's a ballroom with Belle Époque and wonderful. And you can have a very reasonable lunch there. So we would go and have lunch or I'd meet her after work for a drink. And I was always passing by in the Boulevard Hausmann. And I saw these, it looked like a square. There were trees, but there were these kind of gothic struts coming out from it. And it looked sort of like a ruin from the bus. And I never explored until one day, I said I'm just gonna see what that is and got off the bus and went inside. It's a very small square, rectangular, not a huge one. This is the center of Paris. And there is this chapel there. It's called the Chapel d'Expietois. It is open one day a year in January. And it's open for a mass. A mass sponsored by the Bourbon family, you know the Royal, the lineage of Bourbon, the Kings. One day a year in the center of Paris. And I was like, what is this place? I really wanted to find out more. Well, it turns out that the Place de la Concorde, you know where the main part of Paris is, by the scent is where the guillotine used to be, okay? And they would put the heads and the bodies in the carts and take them up to where what this square is because it was nearby. It was an open pit. So this was where they put the bodies. And also the body of Marie Antoinette in Louis the 16th, just thrown in there with the other bodies during the revolution. In the 1800s, one of the descendants of the Bourbon said, this is terrible, we can't have this. And went to exhume the bodies in this pit. Well, the story goes, I mean there's a lot of stories, but the one I like is that they could find Marie Antoinette by her garters. So they said that was her and they took them and buried them, reburied them in the Sandini, the cathedral, you know, where the royal tombs are. And then they built this chapel. But I never was able to get inside this chapel because I wasn't there on this day in January. So if you ever go, I want to report. I think it's just kind of amazing. I mean, it really is the center. And there's this very different feeling when you go in there, at least I feel it. So I thought this really has to go in a story, right? But the reason I wrote this story, it is said in 1989, okay? Cast your minds back. Remember when you had pagers? Remember big hair, shoulder pads? Remember Duran Duran, Madonna's second hit, The B-52's Love Shack? This is that time. And it's that time because when I finished writing Shantumars, the book previous to this, which is said in 1999, Amy Leduc, my detective, was at a crossroads in her life. Something incredibly horrific happened to her, something she caused. Someone very close to her was being pushed into the emergency room. We didn't know if they would survive. And my editor, excuse me, said, well, what's going to happen? What will happen? And I go, I don't know. And she goes, really? She said, I was crying when I read the ending. And I said, I was crying when I was writing it. But I don't know. And she goes, perfect, time for a prequel. So this is the prequel to Amy Leduc's story. We are in 1989. She is in pre-med at the École de Medecin at the Sorbonne. She's living at home with her father, Jean-Claude, who we've heard about in all the stories, but never actually met because he's been dead. But he's alive here. And her grandfather, Claude, whose apartment it is. And Claude was a former policeman. He founded Leduc Detective. And he haunts art auctions. He's a wine connoisseur. He is a bon vivant. He has a mistress. I just sort of fell in love with Claude. I think you will, too. He cooks. He makes rabbit with mustard sauce. Well, I didn't aim Amy at that, but she has no capacity to cook. But, and he's also a person who wants her to follow her passion. He wants her to follow her passion. Whereas Jean-Claude, when we meet him, he's like, you're in med school. This is so good. This is a profession. You can really help the world. And of course, not do all the things that I do. And this is great. And of course, Amy is almost 19 years old. I don't nail it down particularly. But she loves her father. He's raised her. She wants to please him. But medical school is so competitive. She got into the first year, which you can do in France. There's the baccalaureate, you know, the big exam. And you can go into university. She went into pre-med, but the first year is the year that tells everything because there's one big exam. Now, there's two. But in those days, there's one big exam. And you had to pass that to continue. There was sabotage. People were so competitive. And I've heard in our country, medical school is pretty competitive, too. But I don't know if they do this. But people are trying to, you know, stay in the program. And actually, it's only 15% that graduate and go to the second year. So that's how they winnow people in med school. Very fierce competition. So there she is. You know, she's like doing her best when we meet her. Well, before I do that, let me just read the beginning if I may. The prologue, okay. And there's a prologue because I had written a story and when my editor sent it back to me, she said, it's a little different now. I said, oh yeah, I opened it up and there was part of the story that was somewhere else in the book that was the prologue. And she said, it's okay. I said, I've never done a prologue before. And she goes, it's okay, Kara, 16 books. You can do a prologue. It's not against the law. So I'm just gonna read that if I may. It's not too long with Joan's copy. It's, okay. Paris, November 9th, 1989. Standing outside the Michelin-starred restaurant, a stone's throw from the Champs Elysees, the old man patted his stomach. The dark glass dome of the Grand Palais loomed ahead over the bare-branched trees. To his right, the circular 19th-century Teatro Marigny. No, no, if I don't walk home, I'll regret it tomorrow. He waved off his two drunken friends, men he'd known since his childhood in the village, as they laughingly fell into a taxi. Course had followed course, remembering the caviar-dotted lobster in a rich vellute sauce topped off by crevoisier brandy. He rubbed his stomach again as he waved goodnight to the departing taxi. His belly was taut with discomfort. He needed to stretch it out before bed. Besides, he always enjoyed the walk home to his place en place François Premier. Even now, after all these years, pride swelled in his chest, that he had secured himself an address in the Triangle d'Or, the Golden Triangle, the most exclusive Cartier in Paris. The thrill of living among the mansions in Hotel de Luxe, between Avenue Montagnier, Georges Sainte, and the Champs-Élysées never got old to him. He looped his silk scarf tight, took a deep breath of the piercing chill November night, belched. The born farmer in him, since tonight, would bring frost, a crinkled frost that would melt on the gray cobbles like tears. In the village, it would have been a whorefrost, blanketing the earth like lace. He looked over his shoulder, force of habit, with vigilance that hadn't diminished in 40 years. They were always so careful, so scrupulous about the details, took precautions. Yet Bruno's murder had scared them all, made them wonder at the implications. Could it be? But a month passed, and nothing. Were they safe? Not totally safe. Not until the final trust document was rubber-stamped tomorrow. But that was only a formality. Nothing could go wrong this late in the game. He knew that. They all did. Yet why had he woken up shouting in his sleep last night? Why did Philbaer's dentures grind so at dinner? And why did Elan drink a whole bottle of wine himself? Brown leaves gusted against his ankles. On his right, a bleured octetrion glowed like a painting on a postage stamp, further down the Champs-Élysées. He kept a brisk pace, got his blood flowing, warmed up. He was fit as a fiddle, his doctor said. His heart liked that of a man 20 years younger. A couple passed, huddling together in the cold. Walking under the barren trees by the Grand Palais, he became aware of footsteps behind him. The footsteps stopped when he did. But as he turned at the intersection in front of the zebra crossing, he saw no one. Nerves. The light turned green. He crossed. Midway down the next block, he heard the footsteps again, turned. Who's there? Only a dark hedgerow, shadows cast from trees. And he has prickled the hairs on his neck. He walked faster now, looking for a taxi. Silly, he lived two blocks away. But he never ignored a feeling like this. Each taxi passed with a red light, crowning the roof occupied. Stupid, why hadn't he taken the taxi with the others? Kept to their protocol of precautions. His meal, rich in cream, sat in his stomach like a dead weight. Every time he heard the footsteps, he turned and saw no one. Paranoid? Or was he losing his mind? Or was the brandy, heightening sensations and dulling his reflexes? Then with a taxi with a green light slowed, he waved it down. Thank God. Merci, he said, shutting the taxi's door, breathing heavily. I'm only supposed to stop at the taxi stand, monsieur. And I'll make it worth your while in appreciation. He gave the address. But that's only two blocks from here. Consider your fare doubled. The taxi pulled away from the curb. He asked the driver to close the window. But the driver ignored him and turned toward the river, not the way home at all. Ahead, street lamps rimmed decay. Their globes of light reflecting yellow shimmers and the moving sun. His heavy insides curdled. You're going the wrong way. The taxi accelerated, throwing him against the back of the seat. Stop, he tried to handle, locked. Afraid now, he pounded the plastic partition and tried reaching for the driver's shoulder. The wheels rumbled down a cobblestone ramp. Let me out. He didn't even realize where they were until the taxi stopped. The taxi had lurched to a halt below the Pont des Invalides, nestled in the shadow of its arch support. Mist floated over the sand, the gurgling water swollen by early November rain. And then the door opened. And before he could defend himself, his arms were pulled behind him. Take my money. Just take what you want. You know what's going to happen, don't you, said a voice? He gasped. Please let me go. Don't you remember the river? Panic flooded him. No, no, you must understand it. It wasn't supposed to happen. We can make it right. Payback time. A rag was stuffed into his screaming mouth, his bile rose, and all the rich food lodged in his gullet, choking him. You remember, don't you? It's your turn now. He was shoved to the edge of the cave and down into a squat. Through his blinding terror, he saw one of his shoes fall into the water below. The lapping waves from a receding barge in the faint rhythm of a faraway car horn masked his cry of pain. Even the lit globes of the sodium lamps faded into the mist on the cloud-blanketed night. How does it feel, the voice hissed? But he couldn't answer as the sour-tasting gag tightened across his mouth. His tied hands gripped and flailed. He couldn't breathe. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. The shot to the back of his head was muffled by the plastic Vichy bottle used as a silencer and the rumble of the traffic overhead. So that's the beginning. And then we meet Eméle Duc, who, as I said, is a medical school. She's about 19. She's just had a lab experiment sabotaged. She's kind of excited, though, because she thinks she's going to be going to Brittany for the weekend, possibly, with her aristocratic boyfriend, who, it turns out, is getting engaged this weekend, but to someone else. And so that's just kind of starts the story, and we see her. And my editor encouraged me. She said, you know, we've been through these books with Eméle. I'd like to know her origin story. Well, her origin story, we know she inherited the detective agency. She lives on Yosannoui. But she said, I want to know more than that. And I thought, I do, too. Maybe subconsciously, I know. But it's time for it to be on the page. So we see how she meets her future partner, Glennet Friant, a computer hacker dwarf. We see how she gets her dog, Mieuse Davies. Everyone was very happy to read about that. We see her grandfather. We sort of see how she becomes who she is. And she makes a lot of mistakes. But we also see her emerging into her fashionista sort of addiction and see how that love of Chanel is born, which I know a lot of people worried about. So I answer a lot of questions. But there are still some that are not answered. We do get to see Eméle's father, Jean-Claude. And we get to see Eméle's mother. Yeah, you have to read the book. But it was really time to explore how her father, who had been a policeman, took over the detective agency. Hooked up with a woman, an American radical, and two people who were so very different, yet have these very strong ties still, despite having a child together, and to see where that came from. So we get to see that. We also get to go to Berlin. And the story is set, I forgot to say. Well, remember in September, we had a little shake and bake weather here, 1989? A little shake and bake earthquake, yeah. Well, in November 9th, 1989, there was a chill and shake in Europe because the Berlin Wall fell that weekend. I remember, I mean, a lot of us are of that age that we know what the Cold War had really fallen apart. I mean, Europe was changed profoundly. Communism had decayed. So this weekend, the Berlin Wall fell, and that's when the story is set. And Amy's father goes to Berlin as the wall has fallen. And I can't tell you much more, right, I have to kill you, but. But when I was doing research about Berlin, what I discovered that the Stasi headquarters, I mean, the big center, when people were going there, this is right after it fell, there were huge plumes of smoke coming up because they were burning the files, right, sensitive files. And the ones they weren't burning, they were selling. So there was a lot of sensitive information going to the highest bidder. And I'll just leave it at that. And part of this story also comes from because it's not only set in 1989, but we go back to 1942. And Joan said, are some of those things real? And I'll tell you, yes. And that comes about because I live in Noe Valley here in San Francisco, and my neighbor was, and still is, French. She lives up the street. And my son was about five years old, and so now he's taller than me. But, and her kids were about two and three. And they go back every summer to France. And she said, why don't you and your son come and the kids can play and be together? And I thought, great. I mean, they knew each other. And my father has a house in the Loire Valley. When she said, Loire Valley, I'm thinking Chateau, right? Well, it wasn't a Chateau, it was a very nice house, a farmhouse. It was in a village that he grew up in. I mean, it was actually, he restored the house beautifully bought the farmhouse next door. The garden had fruit trees and orchard, and it went down to the edge of the land, which where the river was, a small river. And the Sher River, and it was just wonderful. And he told me, he said, I grew up here. My mother was the village school teacher, small village. And I remember that some of my classmates couldn't cross the bridge and come to school. And I said, oh, because I was asking him, what was it like? And he said, well, they didn't have the pass. I said, what do you mean? He goes, well, just there over the river, that was French occupied, German occupied France. That was in the river was the demarcation line. And we were in Vichy, France, Luzon Libre, Free France under Petain, and they could not come to school because this was the divider, the demarcation line. And so I was just fascinated. I said, what was that like growing up? And he would tell me things. And I am a nosy person, first of all, but I was really interested to learn about that time. And one day we were walking beyond the garden and kind of down the river, down the bank. And it's not, it's a small river, and there's a mill, ruins of a mill over there. And he said, you know, this is where we found him. And I said, what, what do you mean? He goes, well, I was young, we were going fishing. I came with some men from the village. We were gonna go fishing on the bank. And we found a man from the village shot in the back of his head in 1942, just left there. And I was like, well, did the Germans shoot him? Was it resist? I mean, he goes, I don't know. I was a young boy and my father got very mad at me because I saw that. And so I was just, I was kind of amazed. And then we were at the market in the village that Saturday. And markets are the big thing in the village, right? That's the only thing in the village. So everybody was at the village market on a Saturday, all many people, older people, younger people, dogs, children, we were buying, we were buying a lot of vegetables. And I remember we had put the kids in car seats. That's how young they were. I went in the back with Jacques, his name, to put the vegetables in the trunk. And he goes, the man, the assassin was here. I said, what? Yeah, the man that killed the man in the river, he was here. And I'm like looking, and then we got in the car and we couldn't talk because of the kids. So at lunch the next day on Sunday, the big French family lunch and everybody was there. And I started asking about this. And my friend, her husband and my friend's brother had never heard this story. And it was a true story, but they had never heard him speak about this. And I thought about that. And I thought, why did he tell me? But I'm nosy, okay. But I mean, I think also I'm an outsider, right? And you sometimes tell people you don't know about this. And then I thought, wait a minute, he knew the man. We were in the square, the man was older, right? I mean, the man was still alive. And I thought, how did Jacques know? Did he hear his parents at night, talking in the bedroom? I mean, obviously everybody in the village knew and he later knew. And I thought about that. What is the burden of secrets? This was 50 years after the war, okay? This was in the 90s, just think about it, if this young, if he as a young boy learned and this village was keeping no secrets, what is the weight of that? There's a weight, no matter what. Then we had gone the next day to actually see some chateau. We were driving back, the kids were asleep in the car. And we passed this big gate and this beautiful house behind it. And Jacques said, that's where he lives, that's where he lives. And I'm like, what, what? And then we couldn't, somebody woke up, I don't know. So it was almost like he was kind of teasing me with this. And I thought, obviously this man didn't do too bad after the war, okay? Did not do too bad. And everybody knew and I just thought, wow. And I said to Jacques, please, you know, he said, we'll talk about it when we get back to Paris. We never did. And said, Jacques has passed away. But I, you know, that story never left me. And it never really fit in any of the stories, in Amy's stories, but since we went back to the past. And this story is set in 89 about things that happened in 1942. You know, nobody would be that old. It would fit in the timeframe. And I thought it was a way to tell a story and, you know, a lot of people who write, we get that, what if? What if this man, you know, what if he was a collaborator? What if he wasn't a collaborator? You know, what if? Who knew? I mean, I was at liberty to kind of go with what happened. And so that's what I did. I mean, some of the events are real. Geographically, this is in the same place. I changed the name of the two villages because my friend's mother still has a house there. Not that anybody cares, but, you know, but it is there. There is an old mill. There is this, you know, and there was an event, someone was shot and the shooter was still alive then, whatever. So I had to use that in a story. And again, it was, you know, people were not that old in the timeframe of having survived the war, and it made sense. So I was really lucky to be able to tell that story. And yeah, so that's sort of where it came from. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. You know, I don't know. It was really fun. Oh, oh, and then, oh, about my research. I have to tell you this. So a lot of my research is I go to Paris, I stay with my friends and cats sit, and then I meet police, they fleece, and then I get introduced to other fleaks. And you know, I say, I'm really interested, so I said to one of my friend, fleaks, I'm really interested in writing about the Eight Therondesmo. Do you have any friends or colleagues? He goes, oh yeah, my old colleague. Yeah, he'll tell you about high-end crime. High-end crime, right? Some say Lise, okay. So I got to hang out with his friend, take him out to lunch, and go to the commissariat, the police station, that I do describe in this book where Eimei goes, it's in an apartment. I mean, it's a beautiful house manian apartment that I mean, I guess in those days, policing used to be really community-based, and it was in someone's apartment, it's still got the beautiful wood paneling and the stained glass, of course they've got cubicles and things, but I went to meet him and take him out for lunch, and when I was waiting for him, a man from Gucci, Gucci shops, he came in and he had a whole list, and he was reporting all the things that were stolen in a robbery from the Gucci shop on Champs Elysees or whatever, which I don't, not necessarily jewelry, I don't know what they have there, bags or... And he was going through this whole list and I thought, wow, even the top people at Gucci have to come to the little police station and report this crime, and it was interesting. We went to lunch and I started asking him about working here in this district and bought him some wine and kept pouring. He was talking and pouring, and I find now as these books become further right, it's 2016 and these stories are set in the 90s or 89, they're more free to talk about things because they were a young policeman then or rules have changed, I mean, well, it's still the same, but I mean, different, it's kind of reorganized, but it doesn't matter so much, you know, they can talk about cases they worked on, so because they've got a lot more to worry about right now, with terrorism, so I mean, this is not big beans to them, but it's really interesting when they talk to me and tell me about what happens and then I met a man who works in vice off the Champs Elysees because in the street, there's the Champs Elysees and then there's the street which is full of clubs, it's a big nightlife area, Le Jet Set, I mean, if there still exists Le Jet Set, these clubs, there's the clubs where you go, the after clubs, then there's the after after clubs, and the after after after clubs, so you can Jet Set party all night long if you choose and there's quite a scene going on and he talked about that and then I, so a lot of the police are my, you know, give me information, but I made a great new find. This was gold, an Armenian rug merchant, and don't ask me how I met him, but he was fascinating. He has a shop behind the Elysees Palace and right there is a pharmacy and he said, you wanna know about this area? We talked to the pharmacist and why? Because everyone who works at the Elysees Palace, all the, you know, every kind of guard or minister or whatever, they get their prescription filled there because it's right there. So I went and buddied up with the pharmacist. Who couldn't, you know, for certain reasons couldn't tell me too much, but could imply a whole lot. So I'll leave it right there. Do you have any comments or questions? Yeah, I went to Notre Dame in first and second grade in Belmont and then to Sacred Heart and Menlo Park until eighth grade. Yeah, that's the French I learned from nuns. Yeah, I mean, they haven't told me that, you know, but they're talking to me. What I find is that when I meet with them, or, you know, whether we have a drink or dinner or, you know, I go get to go to their office, which is really cool, I ask them and they, it's like a lot of people in their job, you know, they like what they do. I mean, that's their livelihood and they like to talk about it. And if you're gonna write about it, they want you to get it right, you know? He said, you know, and I met a medical pathologist who, you know, autopsy who testifies at court and works with the police. And he goes, yeah, I really want you to get this correct, you know? And he said, I know you have that CSI show in America, you know? We don't have it here yet, but we never work like that, you know? You crime writers need to know, you know, what is correct, you know? It doesn't happen in 58 minutes or anything. But a lot of them want me to get it right. And there are things in every police station. Nothing is, you know, they're pragmatists, I think, but I did see, I was hanging out with a bunch of them, people in counter-terrorism, people who are working with financial, you know, financial crime, linked with counter-terrorism in November. It was October 31st, Halloween. Went to a party at one of the top cops, a new apartment. And I had, you know, they were talking and I said, you know, how are you feeling? And they were still upset by the Charlie Hebdo murders in the January, okay? I said, do you think something like that will happen again? This was October 31st. And he goes, she goes, oh, we know it will. We just don't know when. And then November 13th was the Bataclan and the shooting and the, you know, so they're very aware of it. I mean, it's, I got the sense that they don't know the rule, the playbook anymore. It's all, I mean, I think we saw that by what happened today in France, you know, with that priest. I mean, there's no playbook. There's no, no one can foresee these things. And when I saw two of them again in May, we went for lunch and one of the women is the top crime scene specialist. And she wears stilettos seriously. And so we went for lunch. I mean, and she looks fantastic. And she had gone to the scene of the Bataclan, the theater, because, you know, they had to go and just try to identify, you know. And she started crying. I mean, she's tough, but she's a human being, you know. And these are their colleagues too. I mean, especially, you know, I mean their colleagues have been shot. So I hope I have some care in there as well because I respect these people. It's a tough job. You know, they have to, you know, they have families, you know, they have to go home and they have to be happy with their kids and have a relationship. And for whatever their faults, and a lot of them will be the first to admit it, they give their all. So I have really learned to respect them. Don't end on a dark note there. Yeah. I don't always know who did it. I sort of start with the place. What part of Paris intrigues me? Maybe I don't know it. Why would A be there? What kind of crime would happen there? Not that crime can't happen anywhere, but what would be organic there? Who lives there? Why would she be involved? So all that has to kind of come through. And sometimes it's a crime that a policeman has told me about, a case they worked on, and it would fit here, you know. Maybe I heard about it three years ago, but you know, what would be organic? And then I kind of go through and, you know, when you write a mystery, you have to have suspects. So sometimes, you know, people who could have done it, or otherwise it's really linear, so sometimes the suspect who I didn't think did it, turns out to have done it, you know. I like to keep those balls in the air, you know, to surprise myself as well. Yeah, yeah. Bad boys? Oh, every woman likes bad boys. Oh, they have a magnet. I don't know, magnetic. I have a friend who is really smart. She went to Sciences Po, a grande col. She's really smart. She's really funny. She's really empathetic. She's gorgeous. She wears heels all the time. Now she has two kids. And I would often go and meet her after work, have a drink with her, and she would, you know, look at me. And I'd say, well, how is today? He left me. And I went, a man left you? There's no hope for the rest of her. But, you know, I mean, there was, you know, obviously she, you know, we're all human beings. We have vulnerabilities and, you know, we get hurt and just because you're gorgeous and seem to have it all together doesn't really mean, you know, on the inside that you do. So sometimes you're just always, you know, you'd be lying for the wrong man. I don't know, but, you know. And Amy Leduc has a lot of baggage with her father. I mean, she loved her father, too. And so not a lot of, oh, they're all over. Well, it depends what she's doing and where she is in her life. You know, the first book is set in November 1993 and 15 books were only up to November or April of 1999. So she's had some relationships. She has a baby, which you'll find, you know. So, I mean, things have happened, yeah. Yeah, I should have told you that. Okay, but things have happened, you know, and she's had previous relationships and it's just kind of, you know, I've kind of lived with her for 20 years now. So those things happen, yeah. Well, it was, I went to Paris in the 70s and I really, you know, was hitchhiking around and, you know, sleeping under the bridge, as we did. And I really felt that in Paris, it was, you know, it was very different because it was very grand, but yet it felt like a small village and, you know, certain parts of it. And the concierge would be out front, you know. Now there's not so many talking to you, saying, Bonjour in the café, they would know you. And it was just very much village-like. And when I went back in the 80s to visit a friend, I was sort of looking for that. And my friend took me to the Marais, which in the 80s was not gentrified, doesn't look like it does now. I'm sure a lot of you know it now. And took me down the Rue de Rosier and showed me an apartment, a window, and said this is where her mother had lived during the German occupation of Paris. Her mother was 14 years old, wore a yellow star, and came home from school one day and her family were gone, and ended up living in the apartment for two years with the help of the concierge, who shared her ration coupons. I went to school thinking her parents were coming home. 44 Liberation, she went to the Hôtel de Tessier, looked for her family, asked people, as many, many people did, and finally heard from a woman, I saw your sister get off the train in Auschwitz. And that was it. And when I heard that story, standing there and looking at that, and I've always told this story because this is why I write. I just couldn't believe it. I grew up here. I had no, I had food on the table. I never had to worry about that. And I never forgot that. 10 years later, we went back. I hadn't, my son was even smaller then. My husband was with me. We had one night in Paris, we'd been in the South, and I put, we stayed in the Marais, and I put my son to bed. And I walked down the rue de Rosier, and I think I found that building, I don't know. But I looked at that window and I thought, what if I had been a young mother in 1942? What if they came to round us up? What would I have done to hide? What would I have done to feed him? What would I have done for us to survive? And what if that came back to bite me 50 years later? Because I was there 50 years later. You know, it's that moment. And I was obsessed. Because it never left me. But I mean, what would you do? You know, we've never lived in an occupied situation. We don't know that. But you have a child, what do you do? You know, and how do you live and eat and everything? So I, my dad was a big mystery reader, and he was like, now you're obsessing about that again. You know, just start writing it down. So then I got into a writing class, got into the UC Berkeley extension, got into a writing group, and voila. And I thought a detective novel was a great way not having written fiction before, a great way to have a structure. I like that. I like that framework. You got a crime. Okay, you got an investigation. There's, you know, red herrings and false clues, and at the end there's some resolution. So I really, I like that framework. Yeah, that was the basis for Murder in the Mahay. Yeah. And I never, I thought, okay, I've done it, finished. I didn't know I would write anymore. You know, my editor said, well, where's Amy going next? And I said, what? Yeah, that man she met and her dog, and you are writing a series, aren't you? And I said, of course I am. So I just kept going. If they want a contract, I'll write the next book. But now I'm kind of feeling like, you know, I should finish the Yaron de Smolz. Then maybe go to Marseille. I don't know. All right, a lot of crime in Marseille. Actually, we go window shopping together. That's our big time together. We go window shopping in Paris, and I go, okay, I guess. Yes, I can see that for you here. And that's kind of our quality time. I have no idea. She does a lot of things I would never do, so. So I know we have to skedaddle at 7.30, so. So Amy, as far as, thank you so much. Thank you.