Vidal parked his car on the pavement of rue Béranger, fifty meters away from the square and the church of Saint-Julien. At 9:00 a.m., the neighborhood was deserted. He tried to imagine the places that Julia Chevallier would have frequented. He eliminated the bar-cum-tobacconist’s in the square—Julia had not smoked—and instead headed toward the bakeries, groceries and other stores where the young woman might have been known. Each time, the answers were vague. Newspaper articles had had their effect: everyone knew Julia, but no-one knew very much about her. She was just one anonymous, bourgeois woman among all the other anonymous bourgeois women in this dormitory suburb. His inquiries in the neighborhood led to nothing, but there was still the parish priest, Father Paul Orliac, who had telephoned the day before to say that he had seen Julia on the evening of her murder. De Palma had not wanted to come along, preferring to concentrate on the latest elements of the case in peace. Vidal had an appointment with the priest at 10:00.
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