The winter was particularly harsh this year, but people still went on about their day; crime didn't stop for a bit of a case of chilly weather. With eyes that were bored of watching the same stretch of street for so many long hours, Vincent Revel watched the comings and goings at the medical clinic across the road.
The weather had deterred a good portion of the patients that might otherwise have come, he thought; particularly the elderly. It didn't help their investigation; though it meant that they had less people to watch out for, it also meant that the person they were looking for might not show. What were their motivations? Were they old or young? Were they employed, unemployed, out of a job? At this point, they didn't know, and it looked as though they had even fewer clues to go on thanks to the exceedingly wonderful weather.
Giving a careful sigh, Vincent glanced down at his watch, checking up on the time. He might have consulted the car's clock, but he preferred his watch.
Lifting his gaze back to the windscreen, Vincent noticed that his partner, Claire Savigny had fallen asleep, her head rested on his shoulder. Wondering how he'd missed such a development, he refrained from shaking her awake all at once.
She'd had a bad headache and hadn't felt like chatting, which he'd not taken objection to; talking would have distracted him, besides, he'd reasoned.
Ten minutes wouldn't hurt, he decided. He could give her ten minutes, do the decent thing.
Returning his attention to the street, he noticed suddenly that, with her head on his shoulder, he could feel the warmth radiating from Claire.
It wasn't a bad feeling, he decided, and it made him feel just a bit better about the weather, and just a bit better about the stakeout that was seemingly intent on dragging on and on.
Dream a good dream, for us both, he thought, and smiled, just for a moment. For Baptiste, Odetta and Iphigenia.
Disclaimer I don't own Paris, enquêtes criminelles or any of its characters.