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find Llysette.
She was in the rear corner of the store, holding a woman's suit. She glanced
at the pale green woolen skirt, then finally took off her own coat and tried
the jacket.
"Looks good." I tried to keep my voice enthusiastic, even as I saw the Danites
on the sidewalk, waiting. "Why don't you put on the skirt?"
"I do not know. The skirt is long."
"Try it on. I think it would look good."
The saleslady, the only other woman in the store, nodded.
While Llysette was in the fitting room, I walked toward the front of the store
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and studied the pair outside. Young, short-haired, but bearded, wearing the
dark green overcoats, eyes hard with that look common to all too many
fanatics.
At the creak of the ancient fitting room door, I turned and stepped back
toward the women's section.
Llysette pirouetted in front of the full-length flat mirror. Although the
skirt was long, slightly below midcalf, the lines flattered her.
"You look spectacular."
"Le prix, that also is spectacular."
"You deserve it."
"I do not know."
"I'll buy it."
She shook her head. "Now ... should I wish, I can purchase my own clothes."
The outfit took most of our cash, but I had pressed because it was warm and
looked good on Llysette and she needed both, particularly with another cold
New Bruges winter nearing.
The streets were still damp as we walked back to the Lion Inn, but the air
seemed even colder.
After hanging up the green woolen outfit in the closet, Llysette took out the
music again and sat on the piano bench.
My stomach growled.
After checking the menu and running it by Llysette, earning a raised eyebrow
for interrupting her, I ordered the plainest form of pasta from room service,
with the sauce on the side, to be safe about the whole thing.
Nearly forty-five minutes later, Llysette glared at me. "Le dejuener ... it is
where?"
"It's supposed to be here." I picked up the wireset and dialed in the number.
"Lion Inn, room service. May we help you?"
"Yes. This is Johan Eschbach. I ordered a dinner nearly an hour ago, and we
still haven't seen it. Suite Six-oh-three."
"Yes, sir. Just a moment, sir."
I waited.
"He's already left, sir. Let us know if he's not there in five minutes."
"I will."
I turned to Llysette. "It's on the way."
"On the way? And how proceeds it by airship from Paris?"
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"By Brit rail wide slow gauge."
"Humorous that is not."
A rap on the door saved me from having to make further attempts at humor. The
server wore the livery of the hotel and pushed a cart table.
"I'll take it in," I told him.
"But "
"I'll do it." I smiled.
He backed away.
Llysette watched as I set up the table, then went to the cooler and extracted
a bottle of wine and set a glass beside her plate.
She looked at the wineglass, then shook her head. "A half a glass, that is
all."
"You can have the rest when you celebrate later." Unwind, that would be more
like it.
"Then, I will need the wine."
After we ate, Llysette started on her hair.
In the end, I opted for the formal concert dress, black coat and black tie. As
the consort to the star, it was better to be overdressed than underdressed.
I still brought the plastic blade, and the calculator and pens, as well as a
few other items, such as the dart gun sections in my boot heels.
Llysette warmed up and did her makeup. She didn't put on the performing gown
at the inn but wore a plain dress. I carried the garment bag, and we walked
the block and a half through the gray gloom to the hall a good hour before
Llysette's curtain time.
Her dressing room was marked in large red letters and there were two flower
arrangements there.
She read the cards and handed them to me with a smile:
Break a leg, or whatever Bruce.
Best wishes. Jacob Jensen.
Then I helped her into the gown, and she went back to a few slow warmups. I
stood in the corner, slightly away from the waist-high and oversize
ventilation grate, half-wondering if that much cooling were necessary in the
summer in Great Salt Lake. I shook my head. The big grate covered an air
return. The inbound air register was near the ceiling and about one-tenth the
size of the big return duct.
I'd seen several of the large grates as we wandered around looking for her
dressing room, and I supposed, with the heat from the stage lights, at times
there was a need to suck out that hot air quickly.
A knock echoed from Llysette's dressing room door. I walked over and eased it
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ajar to see who was there.
The brown-bearded Jacob Jensen stood outside, wearing a formal outfit. I was
glad I'd worn my own formal dress. Jensen bowed, then extended an envelope to
me. "Your tickets, Minister Eschbach."
Strange as it seemed, I hadn't really thought about tickets. For a moment, I
just stared.
"The fifteenth row. After I heard your lady ..." He paused and shook his head.
"Her voice is too powerful to sit too close. There are two tickets. That's so
you don't have to sit next to anyone if you'd rather not."
"Thank you." Why two and not three? Still, it was Llysette's show, and I
wasn't about to upset anything.
"Does she need anything?"
I looked toward Llysette. She shook her head.
"No." I added, "But thank you for the flowers."
"I'm most grateful she's here." Jensen cleared his throat. "If she does need
anything, let me know. I'm in the small office at the corner there." With a
nod and a smile, he walked briskly toward the back of the stage, behind the
rear wall of the stage.
Llysette looked at me, and I got the message. "You're ready to be alone."
That got a nod.
I stepped over to her, hugged her, and whispered, "I love you. You'll be
wonderful." Then I left, closing the door behind me.
I hadn't realized just how big the concert hall was until I saw it lit.
Llysette hadn't been exaggerating, not much. There had to have been two
thousand seats in the three tiers. Even a half hour before the performance,
more than half were taken. It was strange to think that more people would hear
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