Read Online The Lafayette Sword by Eric Giacometti - Free Book Online Page B

blurry figure in front of him was light blue. Where was he? He wanted to sit up, but as soon as he tried, a searing pain coursed through his body. Out of breath, he fell back. The taste of bile and dish liquid filled his mouth.
    He heard a calm voice. “Calm down, sir. Don’t move. You’ve got an IV in your arm.”
    The room was coming into focus now. He could make out the nurse’s scrubs and raven-colored hair. She was wearing a nametag, but he couldn’t read the letters. He looked down and saw that he was in a hospital bed, dressed in nothing but a thin gown.
    A deeper voice came from his left. “That’ll teach you to play Tintin in the catacombs. You’re too old for t hat shit.”
    The impressively stout man was sitting on a plastic chair that didn’t look strong enough to support him. He threw the magazine he was reading on the side table and shooed the n urse away.
    â€œYou got lucky,” he said. “Drinking an icy sewage cocktail isn’t so good for th e health.”
    Marcas stared at the large man with the red face. He knew him. Inspector Hodecourt was a colleague, with the nickname Big Brother—because of his size and his no sy nature.
    â€œThe drugs they’ve got you on will make your mind a little fuzzy for the time being, but I’d still like to ask you a few questions and give you a quick rundown.”
    Marcas tried to sit up again but couldn’t manage it.
    â€œThey’ve put me in charge of the investigation, at least until you’re on your feet,” Hodecourt said. “I’m figuring the chief will want you to take over once you’re good to go. Fortunately, I’m a son of the widow too, which will make thing s easier.”
    Marcas knew that Hodecourt was a Freemason, like him, although he attended a differ ent lodge.
    â€œOkay, let’s start with the killer. Can you remember what he looked like? You’re the only one who has seen him.”
    Marcas didn’t want to be questioned lying down. With considerable effort, he managed to prop himself up on h is pillow.
    â€œI want to give you a description, but first tell me how you found me. The last thing I remember is going under t he water.”
    His colleague pulled out a brown notebook.
    â€œA team from the local precinct arrived ten minutes after your brothers called. Two uniforms went down in the tunnel with the grand secretary, and they found you half downed in the sewer tank, which was draining. You were barely breathing, and you stank to high hell. That was one very brave colleague who gave you mouth- to-mouth.”
    â€œI don’t understand. What about the wall? The one between the tunnel and the tank? That’s how I got trapped. Did the killer save me?”
    Hodecourt shrugged.
    â€œI don’t know. Apparently the wall gave way under the pressure of the water. Once you were rescued, the uniforms forced open the grate that led to another sewage network and a maintenance room on the Rue de la Grange-Batelière, where a lock had been forced open. The killer got away without be ing seen.”
    Marcas felt a headache coming on, and his stomach was kn otting up.
    Hodecourt looked at his watch and smiled. “I have to cut our conversation short. The nurse warned me that the sleeping pill would kick in.”
    â€œShit…”
    â€œYou said it. In any case, they’ll probably release you tomorrow.” Hodecourt lifted himself out of his chair. “And I’ll tell everyone at police headquarters how you’re doing. A lot of them wanted to visit, but the doctors said you need your rest. It’s just as well. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes being surrounded by flowers and get-well balloons.”
    â€œMuch appreciated,” Marcas offered a faint smile before his head clouded over. Hodecourt’s voice became fainter and fainter before finally drifting away. He didn’t hear the d oor