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Thank you. It's nearly 8 o'clock in the evening on October 6, 1889. A young artist stands in the middle of an excited crowd on Place Blanche, a small plaza in the

suburb of Paris.

He's waiting for the opening night of Montmartre's newest open-air cafe,

a place where singers and dancers perform and customers have the opportunity to wine and dine in comfort.

The young artist has been looking forward to tonight's grand opening for days.

The new venue has been the talk of the town.

In no small part because of the eye-catching

structure located just above the cafe's entrance, a large red windmill, or as it's called in

French, a Moulon Rouge. The young artist pushes his way through the crowd as the nearby church

bell tolls 8 o'clock. He reaches the front just as the Moulon Rouge

opens its doors for the first time. The artist pays his fee and walks through the entrance with a

flood of customers behind him. Doorway leads into a garden, and there the young artist stops,

staring in disbelief at the larger-than-life stucco model of an elephant.

The young artist's eyes light up when he sees a scantily-dressed woman standing underneath the model.

She beckons to the artist and cuts her eyes over to a doorway built into one of the elephant's legs.

But the young artist doesn't go inside.

He's not certain, but he's heard rumors that in the

belly of this elephant is an opium den where one can smoke for as little as one fronk. But the

...