July 22, 2003: Marie Negre roamed the streets near to Notre Dame, planning how she might best interrupt the nuptials between Shortshanks and Ms. Maddie, only hours left to devise a scheme...when she noticed the caped woman out of the corner of one eye...a shrouded figure who had been following her some three days past, a shadow that left her investigative soul apprehensive, at best.
On the verge of speaking to the stranger, 22 stopped short when she noticed the lady approach a street vendor - one of the many booksellers' stalls that decorated the environs of the cathedral whose very foundation was an alchemical testament carved so long ago into stone.
"What is she doing?" the Black Popess peered, squinting as she tried to ascertain the ensuing swap between customer and vendor. "It's so damn hot today, how can she stand that hood...not to mention a velvet cape? Something is definitely up...just what I need on Mary Magdalene's feast day - a grail gestapo wedding and a trail sent by God knows whom...probably the Jackal Jackass' latest girlfriend."
"Bonjour, Madame," the old gentleman with the twinkling eyes and weathered face soon addressed the leader of DOMM, approached quick on a high-heeled retreat that featured a billowing swath of ebony. "Un livre..."
"Non, merci...la dame..."
"Ahhh...you are an American, aussi," he confirmed. "Lucky for you that I speak Anglais, Madame...the Mademoiselle, she wore the Amazone de Hermès, the parfum..."
"Olivia! Oh my God," 22 near yelled, "that was Olivia! Did she say where she was going, Monsieur? What? The Rue Cambon - no, that cannot be! What? She bought this book for...me?"
