MISCHA WALKED ALONG the Seine, trying to enjoy the brisk air and the subdued energy of a Paris evening. She crossed the bridge at the Place de la Concorde, just at the west end of the Jardin des Tuileries, the beautiful garden that runs between the Place de la Concorde and the Louvre, at the garden's eastern end. When she had been just an actress, this had been her favorite part of Paris for a daytime stroll. But it wasn't daytime, she wasn't out for a stroll, and she wasn't an actress anymore.332Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHkLujXvmrx
She turned onto the Avenue des Champs-Elysees and walked west, toward the Arc de Triomphe. No, she wasn't an actress anymore. She was a fugitive, the most wanted person in all Europe. At any point as she walked, people could catch a glimpse of her face and wonder. They could mention it to a gendarme. They could make a phone call.
She was doing her best not to look like someone who'd just escaped from prison. She was no longer wearing a baseball cap pulled low over her face. Her ratty gym bag was gone. Now she was an upscale shopper on the Champs-Elysees, a woman dressed in a new cocktail dress and heels, carrying shopping bags from a high-end boutique. But she still had the same face, a face that had been splashed across French television for months on end, and, if anyone needed a reminder, was now displayed on lampposts and store windows all around this city. Sooner or later, someone would recognize her if she stayed in Paris.
After a fifteen-minute walk, she stopped at the Cinema Lamarcke, located not quite halfway between the Arc de Triomphe and the Place de la Concorde, where the Champs-Elyees intersects the Rue de Marignan and the Rue Marbeuf.
She took a deep breath. A dark moving theater wasn't a bad place to get lost.
The Lamarcke was showing four movies on six screens. She was a bit behind pop culture of late, so she didn't recognize the titles or most of the actors. She picked the movie that had the latest showing, a 2005 film called La Trahison. It was scheduled to begin at 10:45.
The Lamarcke was an entire complex; it included a brasserie, whose patrons were still enjoying their meals; a women's boutique; a store that sold children's clothing; a travel store; and a small café, which was closed. You had to take an escalator down to the movie theaters.
Downstairs, there were two theaters to the left and four to the right. One of the theaters on the left was the gigantic theater they called the Lamar. It was named after the man who founded this theater, Lamar Lamarcke, a French actor of the late 1800s.
She handed her movie ticket to the clerk and walked down the hallway to the two theaters on the left. She poked her head into the Lamar, though it wasn't showing any movie. She walked up the ramp and looked around. On the screen, Cameron Diaz (whom Mischa had had the pleasure of meeting back in 2006) was kicking someone in the face and screaming. The theater was enormous----probably seven or eight hundred seats, including a giant balcony.
She then walked down to the neighboring theater, which was showing her movie. It had the same setup, but the balcony was smaller and there were fewer and narrower rows on the main floor. It was dwarfed by its neighbor, the Lamar.
She freshened up in the women's bathroom. It had sleek, modern fixtures of stainless steel, a clean marble floor, and five stalls. When she walked back out into the hallway, she almost bumped into a janitor, who was pushing an oversized garbage can with assorted cleaning products hanging from it.
"Bonsoir," he sang. He was a chipper elderly man.
"Bonsoir," Mischa answered, but he was already past her. She reached the end of the hallway and opened a door, flipped on a light, and pushed the garbage can inside. From what she could tell, it was a pretty spacious room. She saw a ladder propped up against the wall, a snow shovel----did it ever snow in Paris?----and a whole rack of cleaning supplies on the wall.332Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq6dIpruSr7
She sat on a bench and put her head against the soft wall. She was dreadfully tired. She'd already made a big blunder at the hotel and nearly been caught. And who knew what other mistakes she'd made---or would make?332Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Y6Iu52bWv
The janitor whistled a carefree tune as he walked past her again, his duties for the evening presumably finished, his supplies put away, and a time card ready to be punched. A simple life. How desperately Mischa envied him.332Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtxyYTzw7sl
A sprinkling of moviegoers filtered into the smaller theater for the 10:45 showing. Probably fifty people (tops) doing the late-night movie thing. Mischa envied them, too. Frivolous entertainment hadn't been a priority for her for well over a year now.332Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPNIlu9ePCN
She stayed outside the theater on that bench until she could hear the sounds of the movie starting, the melodramatic opening theme.332Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvzYVm7q3lZ
When she was alone, she walked over to the janitor's closet and opened it up.332Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkH9Frz6zjh
