Chapter 6 Chapter Six

On the Rue Fontaine, the lights of the nightclubs are shining brightly, the gatekeepers are frozen into ice blocks, and the drivers hide in their cars and wait for the pleasure-seeking tourists.The situation becomes clear after crossing Place Blanche and turning right onto Boulevard Rochechouart. Joseph Odia walked ahead, his steps flustered, his expression tense, and he didn't even dare to turn his head to take a look. The stout McGregor was 20 meters away from him, with his hands in his pockets, he followed calmly with big strides. In the dead of night on the street, Odia and McGregor's footsteps echoed each other, one hurried, the other firm and calm.

Behind the two of them at last came the muffled rumble of Eugene's car.Because after Eugene and the Maasai jumped into the car, they walked slowly along the sidewalk at a walking speed, trying to keep a certain distance from the two people in front.Sometimes they have to keep changing gears to keep up with the fast and slow pace of the two ahead.Sometimes they rushed forward suddenly, a few meters ahead of the pedestrians, and then stopped and waited for the two of them to get ahead. McGarry knew what was going on without turning around to observe. He knew the wide-bodied blue sedan was following behind, and he could guess the facial expressions of the two people sitting behind the windshield.

This is a common practice.He followed Odia because he felt that this man was easier to convince than the others.And those people have ghosts in their hearts, so they must keep a close eye on him. At first, McGregor gave a smug smile. Then he stopped smiling and even frowned.The café waiter he was following was walking neither towards the rue Lepic, where he lived, nor towards the city centre.He always walked along this boulevard on which the railroad tracks were laid, and did not stop at the Barbes crossing, but continued to walk along the Chapelle boulevard. It was so late that he couldn't have come down this street for anything else.The reason is very clear.Odia and the two men in the car had agreed in advance to lead the sheriff into increasingly remote areas.

Every time you walk a short distance, you can vaguely see the figure of a girl curled up in the shadows, and a hesitant North African gentleman is picking a partner back and forth. McGregor didn't immediately become tense because of this, and was still very calm, smoking his pipe one after another, listening to his regular footsteps like a metronome. They crossed the tracks of the North Railway Station, and they could see the empty platform and the brightly lit clock on the station in the distance.It was 2:30 midnight, and the car had been rumbling behind, when for some unknown reason the car honked its horn softly.So Odia began to pick up his pace, walking so fast that it seemed as if he would run if he let go of his restraint.

Seeing no need for him to cross the street, McGregor followed suit.The moment he turned sideways, he suddenly spotted the car, which made him a little wary of what might happen. The boulevard is darker than any other corner of Paris because of the overhead rails.A police patrol passed by on bicycles. One of the policemen looked back at the car, found nothing unusual, and followed his companions and disappeared into the distance. Things sped up the pace of development.After walking a hundred meters, the cafe waiter crossed the street again, but this time he became more flustered and ran forward a few steps.McGregor stopped in his tracks and realized that the car was about to accelerate, and suddenly realized.Beads of sweat appeared on his temples. He was lucky to have escaped a disaster!

It's just too blatant!It turned out that Odia was in charge of luring him into the middle of nowhere, where cars would drive McGarry down the road and kill him as soon as he was in the middle of the road. Everything in front of him gave him a dreamlike feeling. He saw the handy and powerful car passing by like lightning, and thought of the two people sitting in the car, especially Eugene. , a mouthful of white and crystal-clear teeth, with a sly smile, holding the steering wheel with both hands, waiting for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Does that qualify as homicide?McGarry came close to dying: slammed into the dust, bruised and bruised, but who knew?Even after moaning miserably for hours, it is unlikely that anyone will come to rescue.

At this moment, it was too late to turn around and go back to the hotel, and he was not reconciled.He was no longer thinking about Odia, and he had little hope of being able to catch up with him, of getting him to open his mouth.However, he still insists on following the cafe lover, because it involves the issue of self-esteem. The only precaution he took was to put his hand in his trouser pocket, grip the pistol tightly, and shove the cartridge into the chamber. Then he quickened his pace.He no longer kept a distance of twenty meters from the cafe waiter, but followed closely behind, so that Odia thought that McGregor was about to arrest him, so he also speeded up.For a few seconds the scene was rather dramatic; the two people in the car were aware of it too, for they followed practically close behind.

The trees of the boulevard and the electric poles of the railway pass by one by one.Odia was terrified, he was terrified of McGregor and possibly his accomplices.When the car horn sounded again, ordering him to cross the street, he stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, panting and panicked. McGarry, who was already walking beside him, saw the headlights of the car now, saw the bonnet of the waiter in the café, and his sad eyes. Just as he was about to step off the sidewalk following his fellow travelers, he suddenly had a premonition.Odia might have had the same premonition, but it was too late for him.Because the inertia had already played a role, he moved forward by one or two meters...

McGarry opened his mouth to tell Odia to stop.He knew that the two people in the car were tired of this fruitless chase, and they had made up their minds to rush forward, and they would not hesitate to run over and kill the policeman together with their partners. However, before he could yell out, he heard a vibration of airflow and the sound of a high-speed motor, followed by a questioning crash, and possibly a low moan. The taillights of the cars were far away, disappearing on a side street in the blink of an eye.The little man in black put his hands up on the ground and looked at McGregor with bewildered eyes.

He looked like a madman, and also like a child.His face was covered with dust and blood, and his nose was no longer what it used to be, it was smashed beyond recognition. He finally sat up, stretched out a weak hand and touched his forehead as if in a dream, showing a strange smile that was not a smile. McGarry helped him up, sat him down on the edge of the sidewalk, and walked across the road without thinking to pick up his hat.Although he was not injured, it took a few minutes for him to recover. There was no one on the street, only the sound of a taxi passing by, but it was still far away, at the other end of the boulevard Barbes.

"You're lucky you were almost crushed!" muttered the sheriff, leaning over the wounded. He felt the wounded man's head carefully with two fingers to see if the skull was broken.He told the wounded man to turn his legs, for his trousers were torn, a large scrape at the level of his right knee, and McGarry could vaguely see a severe wound. It seemed that Odia was not only speechless, but also lost his mind.He didn't know what to chew in his mouth, as if he wanted to spit out a bitter taste. When McGregor looked up again, he heard the sound of the car engine again, and he was sure that it was Eugene's car driving on a parallel road.Then the sound got closer and closer, and the blue car passed through the tree line less than a hundred meters away from them.road. The two of them can't stay here anymore, because Eugene and the Masai people will never leave immediately. They want to know what happened later, and they circle around the neighborhood again. can be heard.This time, the car came along the boulevard, only a few meters away from Odia.McGregor held his breath in case the opponent fired. "They'll be back," he thought, "and next time..." He lifted Odia up, crossed the road, and placed him on the back of a platform behind a big tree. Sure enough, the car came again.This time, Eugene didn't notice them, he parked the car a hundred meters away.He must have consulted with the Maasai and decided not to look any further. Odia groaned in pain and shivered all over.On the pavement where he had fallen, a gas lamp made a large pool of blood. There was no other way but to wait.McGarry did not dare to leave the wounded alone, and went to find a taxi by himself, nor did he want to ring the doorbell of a nearby house, lest a large crowd of people would be onlookers.After only ten minutes of waiting, a slightly drunk Algerian passed by, and the sheriff had a hard time explaining to him that he wanted a taxi. It was cold, as it had been on the night from Morn, and everywhere was a frosty silver.Sometimes a horn can be heard coming from the North Railway Station. "It hurts!" Odia moaned. He looked up at McGregor, as if expecting to be given a painkiller. Fortunately the Algerian had done his duty, and they saw a taxi driving up.The driver asked cautiously: "Are you sure it was a car accident?" He neither stopped the motor nor was he about to help McGregor. "If you're worried, you can take us to the police station," McGregor replied. The driver was finally convinced, and a quarter of an hour later the car pulled up opposite McGregor's hotel in Embankment Street. Odia didn't close his eyes, observing the people and things around him.He manifested an indescribable tenderness which inspired pity at the sight.The hotel keeper was indeed deceived. "It looks like your friend must be drunk." "Maybe he was drunk. A car hit him." The café waiter was helped up the stairs and into the room in a hurry.McGregor ordered a bottle of rum and sent for some towels.For the rest, he didn't need anyone's help.By this time, the passengers in the adjacent rooms had fallen asleep, and he gently took off his shoes and coat, unfastened his stiff collar, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Half an hour later, McGregor was still busy checking the wounded.The wounded was lying on the bed naked and thin, with garter marks on the calf, and the most severe wound was the one on the knee.McGarry sterilized the wound, then bandaged it, applied isinglass plaster to several other innocuous scrapes, and finally gave the wounded a large glass of liquor. The radiator was hot to the touch.The curtains have not been drawn yet, and the moon can be seen floating in the corner of the sky. "They've done a good job, these bastards, your fellows!" sighed the Inspector suddenly. Odia pointed to his jacket and asked for a cigarette. "What alarmed me was your demeanor at that time, which was not as calm as it is now. You also guessed that they were going to kill you, and they will do the same to you!" The café waiter's eyes became more steady, and he eyed McGregor suspiciously.He spoke, but only with a question. "What does all this have to do with you?" "Don't worry, you're not quite clear-headed. What does it have to do with me? I'll tell you. A scoundrel you know murdered Pepido, probably because the scoundrel was afraid he'd tell the story of Barnabe." Get out. It was the rascal who went to the Fontaine Hotel to find you that night about two o'clock after midnight." Odia frowned, and glanced at the opposite wall. "Remember! Karo called you outside and asked you to bump into the person who was about to come out of Floria's bar. According to your testimony, the police station arrested the person. Suppose it is one of my relatives ..." Odia put his cheek on the pillow and muttered: "Don't try to make plans on me!" It was about four o'clock in the morning.McGarry sat down on the edge of the bed, drank a full glass of rum, and filled his pipe with tobacco. "We've had plenty of time to talk," he said. "I just looked at your papers. You've only been convicted four times, and none of them serious: one for pickpocketing, one for fraud, and one for trespassing." An accomplice in the theft of a villa..." The wounded pretended to be asleep. "But I've thought about it for you. You'll have another sentence, but this time it's exile. What do you think?" "Let me sleep." "I won't prevent you from sleeping, and you don't prevent me from talking. I know that your two partners have not returned yet. At this time, they are busy arranging some things so that tomorrow if I point out their car numbers, the garage will be opened." The boss will stand up and confirm that the car never left the warehouse last night." A smug smile flitted across Odia's swollen lips. "However, I want to tell you clearly: Caro will fall into my hands one day! Every time I try to arrest a person, this person will never escape. Anyway, the day when the 'notary' is arrested , you must be inside, you don't want to resist..." It was five o'clock in the morning, and McGregor had already drank two glasses of rum, and the room was full of smoke.Odia kept tossing and turning on the bed, and finally sat up, with rosy cheeks and bright eyes. "Is this trick tonight decided by Caro? It's very possible, eh! Eugene can't think of this idea alone. If this is the case, you should be sober, your master is right You don't care about getting rid of it." A passenger, kept awake by McGarry's monotonous monologue, stamped his foot on the floor.McGregor took off his vest because it was too hot inside. "Give me some rum, please." There's only one glass left, a big glass.The two of them took turns drinking, neither of them thinking about how much they had drunk.McGarry kept bringing the topic back. "I don't ask you anything else, as long as you admit that after Pepido was beaten to death, Caruo will go to the tobacconist to find you immediately." "I didn't know Pepido was dead." "Look! Weren't you at the Fontaine just as you are today? Eugène was there, and perhaps the deaf little innkeeper. Was Caro in?" "No!" "He knocked on the glass door, then. You must have agreed on a signal." "I tell you categorically, there is nothing." At six o'clock, it was dawn.Trams are already running on the Embankment.A tugboat blasted its horn, as if it had lost its barge in the night. McGregor's face was as energetic as Odia's, and his eyes were as bright.The rum bottle was empty. "Now I'll tell you as a friend how things will turn out. They know you're here now, and we've talked, and as soon as they can, they'll do it all over again, and next time you'll have to You can’t be killed. If you tell the truth, what risk do you have? It’s nothing more than taking a protective measure against you, letting you stay in the prison for a few days, and release you after all those people are locked up. The time has come." Odia was engrossed.From the sound of his muttering to himself, he had no objection to McGregor's idea at first, and he muttered: "According to my current physical condition, I have the right to request to be admitted to a medical clinic." "Of course. You must know Freyner's infirmary. The conditions there are better than the hospital." "Can you see if my knee is swollen?" McGarry undid the bandage obediently.Sure enough, the knee was swollen, and Odia, who was always afraid of getting sick, stroked his knee sadly. "Do you think my legs will be amputated?" "I promise, you'll be healed in two weeks. You squeeze the fluid out gently." "Ah!" He stared at the ceiling for several minutes.In one room, the alarm clock rang.Waiters tiptoed up and down the aisles to begin serving passengers, and on the landing someone was endlessly shining shoes. "Have you made up your mind?" "I have no idea." "Would you like to go to the felony court with Caro?" "I want to drink some water." He did it on purpose.He didn't show a smile, but he was clearly having fun by manipulating others. "Why is the water warm, this water!" McGregor didn't answer, tied the braces around his waist, and slowly followed the wounded's request.Now the distant sky was rosy, and a faint ray of sunlight fell on the glass. "Who is in charge of the investigation?" "Sheriff Amadillo and Gastambit Palace." "How are these two?" "It couldn't be better." "I almost died! How did I get knocked down?" "Knocked down by the left fender of the car." "Is it Eugene's car?" "It's him. The Maasai sits next to him. Who's this fellow?" "A young man. He has only been in Paris three months. He was at Barcelona earlier, but he seems to be out of place there." "Listen, Odia, don't waste your time playing hide-and-seek. I'll get a taxi and we'll go to the Judicial Police. Inspector Amadillo starts work at eight o'clock, so you brag and lie to him." Bar." McGarry yawned, exhausted.I can't even pronounce some words correctly. "You don't answer?" "Just go." It took McGregor just a few minutes to wash his face, tidy up the bathroom, and then ordered two breakfasts. "Do you understand that in your current situation, there is only one place where you can find peace, and that is the prison." "Isn't Amadeo the tall guy with the always pale face and the long mustache?" "yes." "I'm not interested in him!" The rising sun reminded him of the little treasure house on the Loire, and the fishing rods lying idle in the gondola.This may be due to fatigue!But in a blink of an eye, McGregor put all these aside again.He glanced at Odia with wide eyes, and scratched his scalp with his hands as if he had forgotten what he was doing. "What shall I wear? My trousers are torn." McGarry called in the hall-sweeping boy, who promised to sell a pair of old trousers.Odia limped along, grunted, and put his weight on McGarry's arm.They crossed the New Bridge in a taxi, and it was a relief to breathe the fresh morning air.An empty large prison van drove out of the detention center, and it had already unloaded all the criminals in the detention center. "Can you go up the stairs?" "Maybe. Anyway, I don't want a stretcher!" They are about to reach their destination.Because McGregor was very anxious, his chest felt tight.The taxi stopped opposite the judicial police station.The sheriff paid the fare before letting Odia out of the car, and then called to a uniformed policeman on duty to come over and do him a favor. The policeman on duty was talking to a man with his back to the street. The man turned around as soon as he heard the voice of the sheriff. Days without a shave.Odia stepped out of the car and spotted him at a glance, but Caro pretended not to see him and continued talking to the police. They ignored each other.McGarry supported the café waiter, who pretended to be seriously injured. After crossing the courtyard, Odia deliberately slipped and fell on the first step, as if he could no longer walk.Then he raised his eyes and said with a sneer: "You've been tricked by me, haven't you! I have nothing to say, I don't know anything, but I don't want to stay in your room. Who knows you, me? You think I don't know." It was you who pushed me under the car?" McGarry clenched his fist, which was as hard as a rock, but he stashed it in his coat pocket anyway.

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