Aimee LeDuc's Paris

 Who among us wouldn't love to be the chic and wonderful Cara Black?  Let's hear what she's up to in Paris these days, shall we?

Bonjour Ladies,

 

The soft apricot light hits the zinc rooftops at sunset, butter smells emanate from the bakery, the Seine gurgles below, and yellow leaves rustle on the cobblestones. Yes, we're in Paris. A woman of a certain age smiles at the wine sommelier in the bistro and he tops her wine glass, again, no charge 'my compliments, Madame.' A young Parisian hipster opens the door for a grandmother in her 70's and flirts with her. Full on flirting. You walk out the door of your apartment and within a block find a cafe where the owner smiles and says 'Bonjour' and if you've been going there for seven years asks 'the usual?'

 

 C'est la vie - sometimes anyway - in my case when I get to inhabit Aimée Leduc's (my computer security detective's) world. Since my books are set in the mid 90's before Google came into being Aimée still uses dial up, people pay in Francs but do use cell phones. All this requires research, the best part of my job. I've collected Paris phone books from 1995 - a whole suitcase full that my friend was about to throw away - to get the names, streets, the shops and the details right. I consult newspapers - usually Le Monde on microfiche at the university library - of that day to find what was on sale, the world events and traffic jams in Paris. I've visited the morgue - they wear short white rubber boots while hosing down the...you get the idea - spoken with the river police on the Seine about 'floaters' those bodies recovered in the Seine. Gone drinking with the 'flics' cops and over a bottle of wine ask about procedure. And end up listening open mouthed to their stories about the cases they've worked on. Even toured the Crime scene unit at the Prefecture and seen re-enactments of crime scenes, their fingerprint files. Detais, details, details. I record street sounds, conversations on busses, the way the Seine sounds at night. Photograph everything that moves and doesn't. Everything's grist for the mill as I think all the Lipstick Ladies would agree. Right, ladies? Yet to me, a gripping story is about the characters, how crime impacts them, the victim's world. All the police details, the forensics and technology are tools in service to the plot, the characters. Every computer hacker I've had the chance to talk with has said that technology is only as good as the user - social engineering (chatting someone up, flirting, outwitting them) can get you a password, or beyond a computer's firewall much faster than anything else. No system or laboratory is immune from the human element.

 

The story is all about people, creating vivid characters you want to spend time with. Walk with into that cafe and share an expresso, or join you at the bookstalls on the quai. 

     Often like Aimée, and her partner René, a dwarf and computer hacker extraordinaire, I have problems with French bureaucracy. A common complaint among the French. Simple transactions require tons of paperwork, visits to different offices, getting official seals and stamps which can take up a day, a week or a month for something that's quite straightforward in the States. I opened a bank account last November in Paris, well, I thought I did, with La Poste, the post office bank. For that I needed ten Euros, no problem, and a faxed phone bill from my house.

Two months later after receiving no acknowledgment or way into my online account, my friend in Paris called La Poste to find they needed three more forms. But as they say c'est la vie and I wouldn't trade my job for the world.

Thanks for having me ladies,

Cara

  You can order Murder in Passy here.