MISCHA SAT IN ONE of the four booths at the end of the day area, where they could make their phone calls. Inmates were allowed phone privileges on a daily basis, provided they had set up an account (hers was billed to Warner Brothers Television, who had produced her only T.V. series, The O.C.) and that the numbers they dialed were preapproved. She had six approved phone numbers she could call. One was for her lawyer; two were for Sebastian, cell and home; and there was one each for the cell phones of her sisters, Zoe and Hania.329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrRYU70AEjn
Her sixth number was that of Felice's fiancé, Donatello. She had added him two months ago as a favor to Felice, as she and Donatello were struggling financially and she'd offered to put him on her account. She'd never called him. Felice had, using Mischa's account with her permission.
Well, sometimes good deeds are rewarded.
She dialed her personal code and then Donatello's cell phone number. He answered on the fourth ring, just as she'd begun to fear that she'd get his voice mail.
"Allo?"
"Donatello? C'est Mischa."
"Bonjour," he said.
"Comment ca va?"
"Ah, elle me manque."
Opening pleasantries: how are you, I miss Felice, etc. They had to keep up appearances. The prison reserved the right to record all phone calls, aside from those with the prisoners' lawyers. A lot of them around there thought they had recorded those, too. But her call to Donatello was surely fair game, so they had to be careful.
"I wrote a song about her," he said in French.
She took a breath. That was the cue.
"Really?" Mischa replied, also in French. "What's the name of the song?"
"Avec Amour," he said. "With Love."
" 'Avec Amour.' C'est bon, c'est bon," she said with approval.
Avec Amour. Okay. That was easy to remember.
Now it was her turn. They'd worked this part out in advanced. She'd asked him if he'd had a good day today.
Donatello responded with a bitter laugh. In French, he laid it out for her. "Felice and I owned a safe with valuables and mementos. I tried to open it today but I couldn't remember the combination. I spent hours trying to remember."
"C'est terrible," she said into the phone, projecting sympathy for anyone who might have been listening. Then (in French) she asked the $64,000 question: Did he finally remember the combination?
"Oui," he answered with a bitter laugh. "Quatre-cinc-trois."
Four-five-three:
Reverse it, which was part of their code: 3-5-4.
Avec Amour, 354.
"C'est bon," Mischa replied. They then spent some time discussing the funeral for Felice---the real one, outside the walls of JRF. He told her about the plot of land and the weather and the family in attendance. It had been a private funeral, to which only close family members had been invited---a tasteful affair in a cemetery surrounded by gently rolling hills. He eyes glistened with tears but she had to stay focused. They weren't finished yet.
"You were going to read a poem at the funeral," Mischa said in French.329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv4RLjPut6Y
"Yes, I did," he responded in French. "I read that song I wrote."329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7hcCylg0MU
"Avec Amour?" she asked.329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdzIqVBU1yD
"Oui, 'Avec Amour.'"329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqz88wMolrP
Avec Amour, 354, Avec Amour.329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh5PhouDLSk
She repeated it silently in her head. Avec Amour, 354, Avec Amour.329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXb93zKrAuJ
Thank you, Donatello!329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT15RGQDO80
They spent another ten minutes on the phone conversing about Felice and briefly discussing her upcoming appeal. As the conversation petered out, she noted an edge to Donatello's voice. He knew as well as Mischa did that her life was in danger.329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXVWCnrFncl
He knew as well as Mischa did that they might never speak again.329Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQvC4cC9Nh7
