Last Rites in Paris – A Saturday on Aaronworld-1066
"7 years in France, I'll never get used to what the French consider Coffee"
Tara Hayden was a personal support worker living in Paris. She was just 1 of over half a million Canadians who immigrated there after Quebec separated from the rest of Canada in a 2006 referendum. The resulting riots once Quebec became the 51st state in the United States of America lead a lot of English-speaking Canadian residents to leave their home and native land for other countries. There weren't as many Canadians in France as there were in nearby Holland, but after 3-6 months of proving to the people around her that she wasn't American, she was welcomed all the same.
Her days on the job were often uneventful, as some of the older residents in France didn't speak English (and her French speaking skills was functional...at best as Canada taught the French spoken in Quebec, not France). Sometimes she'd get an English-speaker (usually a retired diplomat, businessman or college professor) but they never lasted...
...For they have a tendency to die on her in and around 8 months. "Huit mois" Hayden was the nickname going around the office. But she was unionized, which in France meant she was paid almost as much to not work as she was when she did work.
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It was her business cell phone, not her personal cell phone. She saw the number as being someone from the crisis room, stuck it into a docking cradle and spoke out loud "Holography mode, main conference room...30 seconds."
Tara stood up, left her beige, lifeless cubicle as she heard "Main conference room is not in use at this time." coming from the dock's speaker. How the phones understood English was something that no one (even the local French) understood. She walked down a hallway that was off-white (like a hospital) with paintings of wineries and the French riviera. She turned right into the main conference room which instead of having any tables and chairs had a 5×5 plexiglass grid of lights on the floor, and beam splitters of various diameters and colours. It reminded Tara of the floors she saw in old disco bars, but there was a lot more technology in this room, It even had to be kept as dark as possible to enhance the visual quality of the holograms. Tara walked to the centre square, looked at her watch and said "should be in 3...2...1"
A hologram projected 25 centimetres in front of Tara. It was of an older gentleman, Mid-50's, Short dirty blonde hair and from what Tara could tell from his build, he was hiding an 8-pack of abs under his white silk dress shirt.
"Salut, Jean-Claude!" Tara spoke with a smile in as close to a French accent as possible (which was still pretty bad).
"No time for pleasantries, Tara. We have a jumper at the tower."
A holographic image of the Eiffel Tower came between them (supposedly at Jean-Claude's request). Tara had only been to the Eiffel Tower 3 times since she came to this country (and it was always full of tourists as ignorant as the French thought they were, so she was uninterested in the crowds) and was sad that her fourth trip was for business, not pleasure. She saw a brown gentlemen with short spiky blonde hair on the third observation level, screaming "Get the fuck away from me, I'm going to jump." at the tourists (some of whom understood him, many did not).
"I understand why you're getting me to do this." Tara said flatly.
"All of my English speakers are out of the country on vacation, save 1 but she hasn't had any real world experience with the suicidal." replied Jean-Claude.
"Am I to assume that I'm bringing her along?" asked Tara.
Jean-Claude nodded, replying "Her address has already been texted to you. Good luck, holography mode off."
The grid went blank and Tara sprinted out of the room. She returned to her main cubicle, grabbed her business cell, purse and left. First she headed for the elevator, only to realize that it was down for "routine maintenance".
"Probably the electrician banging his new wife again. Guess I'm taking the stairs."
She headed for the south staircases as they were the closest. She elected to slide down each stair banister in order to shave off a minute or 2 in travel time (and to distract her via having some fun to offset her fear of dealing with someone who wants to kill themselves). Finally reaching the main parking garage, she reached a difficult decision:
"Ground car that takes too long due to speed limits or Hover car that takes too long because of traffic?"
She decided to take the hover car (a dark green BMW X5 SUV that had been hover-converted), hoping that with it being mid-morning that air traffic wouldn't be too bad. She stuck her right index finger onto a small scanner located where the lock would be on a ground car. The hover car began unlocking itself, she hopped inside and spoke "Begin hover mode in 10 seconds." which was enough time for her to shut the driver's side door, fasten her seatbelt and stick her business cell into a docking cradle located on the dashboard. When the countdown reached 0, the car began to hover 30 centimetres off of the ground. Tara accessed her text messages, looking for the new girl's address. Upon finding it, she spoke again:
"Send text address to gps, optimal driving route, circumvent local speed limits as per my level 3 city authority clearance and if possible, weather updates every 90 seconds. Also, look up phone number pertaining to that address and call when I'm within 3 minutes of that address"
The vehicle rotated its tires 90 degrees on the Z axis and the car took off, reaching its' top speed of 250 km/h in under 4 seconds. Tara had no problems adjusting to driving a hover car, she just hoped that there was no lightning on the horizon.
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Amanda's phone rang almost immediately after she had sent her kids off to school.
"An assignment so soon? Wow, they must have really liked my interview." she wondered out loud as she walked over to her video phone.
Amanda lived on the fourth floor in an apartment complex called "Liberte Copropriete". A 3 bedroom apartment that was simply too small to have a holographic imaging chamber inside. Amanda saw the number on her phone and after looking at a chart that she made for every Country Code, Area code and Business code on the planet, she began scratching her head in confusion:
"Personal Support Worker? Why are they calling me? It's not like I was in a car accident recently. OK, answer call, audio/video chat mode, please."
Amanda saw a woman a couple of years older than her with dirty blonde hair on her video phone screen, Tara saw a woman a couple of years younger than her with red hair:
"Amanda Williams, I presume?" asked Tara.
"That I be, how can I help you?" asked Amanda.
"We got a jumper on Eiffel Tower, I'm supposed to pick you up via city hovercraft en route as you're scheduled to do this job permanently as it's not technically my department. ETA: 2.5 minutes. Questions?"
Amanda knew how dire the situation was, so was quick on her feet "Just one. Will you be picking me up on the ground...or from my balcony?"
"Balcony would be optimal as it's a 5 kilometre straight line to the Eiffel tower from there."
Amanda nodded in agreement. From her balcony she could actually see the tower off to the right if the weather was clear enough.
"OK make that a second question: Do you have a plank extension or am I getting mine out from the closet?"
"I have one, a standard issue 3 metre plank that's half a metre wide. Titanium alloy, could handle the weight of 3 of you to be honest based on what I see of you on my phone." answered Tara.
"Copy that, see you in 2." replied Amanda.
"Ciao." said Tara just before a screen came up on Amanda's phone saying "Call disconnected."
"Glad I got my phone from Canada to work here, with the right voltage adaptor of course." she wondered as she turned onto Rue de Beaudoin.
Tara arrived on schedule with the hover car running parallel to Amanda's balcony facing North by Northwest.
"Open passenger door and extend plank. Increase hover thrusts by 15% on my side of the car to compensate upon weight being placed on the plank."
The passenger side door swung open and the platform began extending. Amanda nervously began walking on it, the extra hover thrust kicked in immediately after her first step in order to balance the car in mid-air. After the sixth or seventh step, Amanda ducked and entered the car where she felt the extra the extra hover thrust disengage and heard Tara speak "Retract plank, close passenger side door and drive to the Eiffel tower. Optimal driving route, circumvent local speed limits as per my level 3 city authority clearance, no weather updates and inform all police within 100 metres of the Eiffel Tower that our ETA is 2 minutes by text. Also, identify jumper based on facial recognition and display all information on him."
The car did as instructed, followed by Tara asking Amanda "How many plank walks for you?"
"38...simulated." answered Amanda, reluctantly.
"OK, how many real ones?" asked Tara.
"2...including this one." answered Amanda.
"Well, that explains the apprehension when you were climbing onto it. OK, we have 1 jumper on the third level. His name is Adam Debideen, a Canadian immigrant like me and I'm assuming you. Huh, he was an ex-cop back home, interesting." explained Tara as she read a report of the jumper's identity
"Yes, I'm an Oakvillain. You?" asked Amanda, hoping that Tara understood Ontario slang.
"I'm a Newmarketeer. Not much is known about Adam except that he's an ex-cop and a Bramptonite." replied Tara.
"So in between us, nice. Standard 'every reason to live' procedure?" asked Amanda.
"We'll probably start it out that way, then deviate based on Adam's responses. I've been bending the standard procedure since they started giving me these cases to supplement my workload." stated Tara, matter of factly.
"What's your success rate?" asked Amanda, dreading the answer.
"I'm 7-3, which despite 3 dying on me has actually earned the respect of the native French in my office because it's better than the 50/50 success rate that they find acceptable for this line of work." answered Tara as she made a sharp right to avoid a yellow hover cab coming towards her.
"That's pretty apathetic of them. To only value human life just enough to be half-successful." offered Amanda in outrage.
"You won't get an argument from me on that one." said Tara in empathy.
They flew above the grass making a park of sorts in front of the Eiffel Tower. Tara touched the windshield with the index fingers of each of her hands and began pulling her fingers apart from each other along the glass. When she stopped she spoke "Identify my fingers as the Eiffel Tower south parking lot. Scan for best available non-handicapped parking space and descend at 1 metre per second directly above. When in the final 3 metres, begin landing procedure."
The car found an empty space in the second row of cars. It began descending and returning its' tires to the normal position. As soon as it touched down, Amanda and Tara opened their doors and got out of the car which automatically locked itself as Tara closed the driver's side door. They were greeted by an employee of the tower itself (a blonde girl that was approximately Tara's height with a name tag reading "Foster") and not a police officer as they were camped all around the ground as well as the first and second floors. It was Tara who took the lead in the conversation:
"Parlez-vous Anglais?" asked Tara.
"Yes, I was born in Montreal so I'm bilingual. Come with me, please."
Tara and Amanda followed her across the grass as they were briefed on recent events. "All of our guys got the tourists off of all 3 levels 5 minutes ago so that he has no potential hostages. The police won't even try going up as he apparently assaulted and disarmed multiple officers who were on duty as Eiffel Tower guards when he reached the third level. All of the lifts and stairs have been sealed off so no tourist can sneak back in. We had a jumper here last month who got filmed jumping by an American who snuck back onto the first level (hence the new precaution). Also, the mat to soften the landing is broken so retrieve or pray that he hits the ground well enough to kill him quickly."
"That's...pretty disgusting." remarked Amanda as both she and Tara looked up at the jumper in question. They continued walking until they reached a gold elevator. Tara addressed the tower worker "Don't come up with us, the uniform might scare him into jumping."
The tower employee nodded and spoke in French. Not to another tower worker, but to the elevator itself:
"Ascenseur, revenir au fonctionnement normal. Prenez ces deux filles et puis rester au niveau 3 jusqu'a ce qu'ils soient prets a partir" (Elevator, switch back to normal operations. Take these 2 girls up and then stay on level 3 until they are ready to leave).
Amanda and Tara entered the elevator and heard the tower worker saying "Good luck, ladies." as the door closed. They began a quick ascent to level 3.
"How do you want to approach?" ask Amanda.
"I'll engage him directly, but cautiously. You'll walk in the opposite direction so that he doesn't see you at first. When you're within visual range, begin to tiptoe so that he doesn't hear you. If you get close enough without him noticing you, grab him and pull him off the gate and we take him into the elevator. Understood?"
Amanda nodded, adding "I just hope he's not a woman beater. Otherwise we're going down with him." as they both got out of the elevator and each silently hoped that this Adam guy wouldn't take 2 ladies with him or fight them off. By design of her plan, Tara reached Adam first.
"Morning, I would say GOOD morning but obviously you're not having one." was Tara's opening.
"You're supposed to open with a joke for speeches, not when talking someone out of killing themselves." said Adam with a tone of condescension (by Tara's estimation, Adam probably dealt with a jumper or two when he was a cop). He merely stared blankly at a nearby hospital before continuing "I was just there a week ago, reading fairy tales to the cancer kids."
It was a statement that legitimately shocked Tara. Most jumpers are the mentally ill, homeless or junkies, this guy seem pretty well-adjusted. Without vocal prompting, Adam began telling his story.
Chapter 2: Adam's breaking point
Adam Debideen woke up 1 hour and 18 minutes before his alarm was scheduled to go off. He was awakened by several loud noises coming from inside his apartment. Even in a half-groggy state, he was able to say "Deactivate bedroom alarm." clearly enough for his alarm to understand him. He put on his white housecoat and a pair of black wool slippers and left his room to investigate.
He enters his living room and finds 2 men of similar height and dirty blonde hair naked and having rough anal sex with each other. Based on the different pitches of moaning, Adam determined that the one on top was his roommate (both lovers were masked). When having roommates in Paris, it was tradition to not know each others names as it keeps the relationship purely professional (unless you already knew each other, then tradition did not obviously apply). The man on top saw Adam staring at them in shock and pulled off his black leather bondage helmet.
"Sorry monsieur, we were trying to keep quiet. We did not mean to disturb you."
Adam waved it off, as he was confident enough in his own heterosexuality that he didn't care if his roommates were gay as long as their half of the rent was paid on time. What he did care about however, was the fish tank that had been knocked over and broken. Granted, there was nothing in the tank (yet) but that didn't stop Adam from getting furious.
"OK, this is the last straw. First you burn my Canadian flag in the kitchen trying to make escargot. Then you try to arrange a surprise party for me involving prostitutes when I have a girlfriend back home. Now, when I finally convince the landlord to allow us to have a pet, you break a fish tank that I pay for with curved glass in order to engage in rough bondage sex in my living room? I want you out of my apartment within 45 business days, comprenez vous motherfucker?"
Both men nodded and headed towards the second bedroom down the hall. After 15 minutes they both left in matching cop uniforms, leaving Adam alone.
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Adam breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that the number was his girlfriend back home in Grand cache, British Columbia.
"A little after 10:00 pm last night over there. Oh well, answer call. Audio/Video chat mode."
On the screen came a young woman named Melissa. Brunette, busty and easy, just the way Adam liked them.
"Hey babe, why are you calling so late?"
"Because I'm about to have sex with another woman for the first time and didn't want to be guilty of cheating on you so, yeah. It's over, have a nice life."
The screen said "Call disconnected." as Adam actually shrugged with total indifference. The easiness that he was turned on by had come back to haunt him. "Probably a miracle that I didn't get this phone call from her even sooner. Oh well, I can move on from this pretty quickly."
This of course was him attempting to sound tougher than he was as he began crying profusely.
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Adam wiped away his tears and began scratching his head in confusion as soon as he saw the number.
"My bank? What would my bank be calling me for? Especially before sunrise. Oh well, I guess I'll find out. Answer call, audio chat mode only."
In came a Frenchmen's voice that Adam didn't recognize "Hello monsieur, I'm so sorry to be disturbing you at this hour. My name is Charlie, I am with the Swiss bank's Paris branch."
"I was already awake Charlie so there's no need to be sorry, how can I help you?" asked Adam.
"I am so sorry to bear such bad news but we were robbed last night. Half a billion francs and 2 dozen safety deposit boxes, 1 of which was yours."
This piece of news probably devastated Adam more than the rest of his morning combined, as he saw the first 2 events as being inevitable.
"That's terrible Charlie, do the police suspect that my box was targeted or did the thieves just snatch boxes at random?"
"They think it was random but they are looking into that. Now, your box had only 1 item inside."
"Yes, an 11th century dagger from the battle of Hastings. It belonged to a Norman knight under the command of William of Normandy. The English won but I received it as a gift from a friend of mine and I had planned to sell it to the Louvre. I thought you guys could use a piece of your history back in your custody even though it's not exactly a piece representing triumph."
Adam distinctly heard a glass breaking in the background, after an awkward moment of silence "Mon dieu monsieur! Did you at least insure it through us?"
"I did, but that's not the point! The value of the dagger was nearly priceless. Complete with the certificate of authenticity that I got from York University back home in Canada I was expecting to get at least 20 million francs. I was going to quit work, retire, get a house outside of the city with my girlfriend...who just broke up with me a few minutes ago. Guess I'll have to find a girl who's not a gold digger, how hard is that to find in Europe?"
Charlie nodded in sympathy (thinking that the video chat option was on as a force of habit), "I am so sorry, monsieur. I will send a police car to your home so that you can give them a statement. They will be there in an hour as they're doing the other theft victims first."
"Understood, Merci. Au Revoir!" replied Adam before saying "Disconnect Call."
All of the trauma of today rapidly replayed on a continuous loop inside Adam's mind. Between the broken fish tank, evicting his 5th roommate in 2 years, losing his girlfriend because she's a bigger slut than he already knew and now his retirement fund being stolen out from under him.
Adam then walked back into his bedroom and opened a drawer from his simple black oak desk. He took out a portable Ipad and spoke "Activate basic systems and face scanner, then turn on the video camera". After a minute or two needed to do as it was told, he pressed record and began speaking:
"To whomever tries to stop me from what I'm about to do, I hereby name you the executor of my estate and bequeath to you all proceeds from the sale of my goods minus what is needed to bury me and cover my last expenses. Simple ceremony, please (no more than my family and close friends on my facebook). Sorry that this is in English and not French but I trust that my last will and testament be legally honoured. I have nothing and no one left to live for so, I plan to die a coward by jumping off of the Eiffel tower.
Goodbye forever,
Adam"
"Go back into standby mode." he exclaimed as he headed to the shower.
"I wish I had something sharp enough to slice my wrists but I don't even own any steak knives. Oh well, at least this way I get to go out dressing well."
He knew full well that he had enough time to get changed into his all-black Armani suit. He left his apartment (which locked itself as soon as he shut the door), and headed for the elevator which was already open:
"Parking level 3, please."
The elevator closed and descended. When it reached the third level, Adam walked out towards his car, a Mini coop convertible. He pressed his left index finger on the door to scan. Once it finished scanning, the door unlocked. He got inside, closed the door and spoke to the car "Ground mode, Eiffel Tower, optimal route, self-drive mode."
The mini began driving itself. It would be a sad irony if Adam had a car accident on the way to his suicide.
"Excusez-moi monsieur, J'ai besoin de voir votre..." (Excuse me sir, I have to see your...)
THWACK!
Adam levelled out a tower cop with one punch to the face, breaking his nose. He then ran to the gold elevator shouting "1 to transport, level 3". He got inside as one cop came to check on the cop and radioed "Niveau 3, Nous avons un skipper de prix" (Level 3, We have a fare skipper)
Adam was expecting at least 4 cops to be waiting for him when the door opened (he noticed that these elevators didn't have overrides designed to stop people like him). He was actually disappointed when there were only 2 of them. One took aim with a taser (as they didn't want to use lethal force yet) which lead to Adam kicking his hand, he accidentally fired at the other cop, shocking him into unconsciousness. Adam then took care of the first cop by kneeing him in the groin.
"Obtenez les touristes sortir d'ici, je veux juste sauter" (Get the tourists out of here, I just want to jump)
The guard nodded, knowing that this guy could've easily killed him, but didn't. He began waving the tourists into the elevator as Adam picked a spot to jump from.
Chapter 3: Confronting a jumper
"So in an hour you evicted a roommate for breaking your fish tank while fucking his partner in the ass, lost your girlfriend because she wanted to play for the other team and had a piece of European history taken from you which drove you to come up here?" asked Tara.
"Essentially, yes!" replied Adam.
It had been 10 minutes since Tara and Amanda got up to level 3 (and Tara was wondering where the hell Amanda was).
"So put up an ad for another roommate, get a new girl and have faith in the police finding your dagger." said Tara, using the "All of your problems are easy to solve" method of talking to the jumper.
"Without the dagger and the roommate, I don't have enough to fulfil the last 3 months of my lease. The getting a new girl part is pretty much a non-issue."
"Have you tried explaining that to the landlord?" Tara asked.
"He hates immigrants, especially Canadians." replied Adam.
A lightbulb went off in Tara's head "Are you paying more rent because you're Canadian? I know I was when I first came here."
Adam shook his head before answering "There's a pro-bono lawyer down the hall from me who makes sure of that for all of us."
Tara then returned to a previous idea "Getting a new roommate shouldn't be as hard as you think it is"
Adam actually snorted at her "OK, there are only 2 websites in France who let non-natives put up ads: and . Between them I've had 2 cokeheads, a collector of child pornography, 1 roommate was good but he got married and moved out. Then we come to the guy that I just kicked out."
Tara was running out of ideas, still thinking "Where the hell is Amanda?" in her mind.
Amanda was making the turn to the North face of level 3 when Tara was thinking that. As per Tara's instructions, she began tiptoeing. Then she noticed Tara discreetly waving her in, as if to tell Amanda "Hurry up, I'm running out of ideas. Help me out, NOW!." Amanda did speed up her tiptoeing considerably before coming within speaking range of Adam.
"Morning Adam, my name is Amanda."
Adam gave her a look that wasn't quite angry, more like irritated. "You brought a trainee over to my case?"
Amanda answered before Tara could "Great guess. In point of fact, Tara's a PSW and jumpers only fall into her lap when they're English speakers. I have the training but no practical experience so they paired us together, just for you. Either way, you're very perceptive."
Adam shrugged, only explaining his guess with "You don't go through South Hall without getting a little genre savvy."
Amanda was momentarily confused, then quickly quipped "Maybe you should try bar-hopping. Your intuition would serve you well getting some good rebound sex."
Tara then added "I know you said getting a new girl was low priority but casual sex could boost your spirits."
"I don't do one-nighters. If I can't have a relationship with the girl then they're at best, a friend. And not one with benefits."
"What if we took you out?" asked Amanda in a moment where she felt that she needed to think outside the box. Both Adam and Tara raised their eyebrows at that one before Amanda continued "I'm a single mom with a couple of kids, how about you Tara?"
Tara was beginning to realize what Amanda was doing as Adam shifted his attention back over to her "Single, no kids. No relationship prospects for the better part of 2 years unless they came with batteries."
Amanda smiled "And here we have an eligible bachelor who is not only very good looking, but has enough fashion sense to wear an Armani suit to his own suicide attempt. As long as you're into older women, and in my case, a mother of 2 kids who aren't yours...I could use a little mocha to go with my latte, how about you Tara?"
"I wouldn't mind sharing, as it means I'm only in half of a relationship and that's about all I think I can handle at the moment."
Adam had resumed staring blankly into the sky before he could feel his personal space being invaded, he looked behind him and saw Amanda retracting her hand quickly to cover up that she was going to grab him and pull him off, Adam snapped:
"And after what, 2 or 3 dates from each of you (at most) you would've assumed I was cured and stopped returning my calls? Is that it? I'd rather be dead than be in a shared relationship based on pity or business. Goodbye, cruel world. Maybe there's a parallel universe where I turned out better."
Neither Tara or Amanda were able to even think of a response before Adam dove off the tower. He actually covered enough distance in his fall to crash into a nearby forest. If he had reached the forest from the first or even second level the trees might have broken his fall. Instead, the trees just broke him more than the ground ever could. Tara was shocked, but as this was Amanda's first case, she was actually crying.
"I wouldn't have done that to him." said Amanda, while sobbing.
"Neither would I. It's against regulations to get so personally involved with cases like this after the fact but he seemed worth the risk. Come on Amanda, I'll buy you a drink. Frankly, we could both use one.
Chapter 4: An aftermath of futility
Maxime's was the 1 club in Paris that didn't add a surcharge to non-natives (It was illegal to do such a thing but good luck getting it enforced). Tara and Amanda had been waiting for more than 5 minutes for a waiter or waitress who was at least sympathetic to non-French speakers.
"Que puis-je faire pour vous deux?" (What can I get for you 2?) asked Maxime IV (suggesting that her family had owned the place for over a century). Both Tara and Amanda had become used to that phrase throughout the years that they had been living in France.
"Absinthe, s'il vous plait?" (Absinthe, please) answered Tara.
"Faire deux" (Make it two) added Amanda. Maxime nodded, understanding that Absinthe is the drink of choice for people in mourning without saying a word.
"They don't teach failure in college. Specifically how to handle it." muttered Amanda.
Tara could only nod in agreement before saying "They didn't teach me how to deal with failure either. Basically, I feel amazed when I save 1 but when I lose 1, I force myself to grieve like I just lost a friend. I recently ran into my professor from Canada and when I told him that they were giving me suicide cases on top of my normal workload, he said to me 'The day that you feel nothing about them the morning afterwards is the day you quit' and I understood him immediately. Because if you reach that point, you have no emotional attachment to people who need your help and you won't really be able to save anyone."
Maxime returned with their Absinthes, handing 1 to each of them before leaving again. Tara continued speaking "In any event, I'm sorry that you had to start your career with a loss. For what it's worth, we both did everything we could." and then raised her glass. Amanda grabbed hers and there was a distinct emptiness in the sound of their glasses clanking, and both of them noticed.
Two police officers then reached the bar behind Tara. Normally Amanda wouldn't pay much attention to them except that one of them had a plastic bag with the word "Preuve" (Evidence) written on it with what appeared to be an old knife inside...
...or a dagger. Amanda pointed at it, which caused Tara to turn around. Her eyes widened at the sight of it. If nothing else, Adam was telling them the truth in that part of his story.
"Parlez-vous anglais, officiers?" (Speak English, officers?) shouted Amanda.
"I can try, how can I help you 2?" answered the thinner of the 2 officers.
"Is that dagger evidence to a robbery that happened earlier today?" asked Tara.
"Good guess, the Swiss bank was robbed a few hours ago. City surveillance caught the thieves at the Louvre trying to sell it an hour ago. Why do you ask?"
"We met the owner earlier this morning." answered Amanda.
"I personally assure you both that it will be returned to him after the trial." said the officer as he tipped his hat at Amanda.
"No it won't, I'm afraid that he's dead." said Tara flatly just before she took another sip of Absinthe.
"Mon dieu, how is this so?" asked the second officer.
"He jumped off the tower. We tried to save him but failed." said Amanda, also before a sip of Absinthe.
"What was his name?" asked the first officer, in a way that suggested that he might know the answer.
"Adam Debideen" replied Tara.
Both police officers widened their eyes in complete shock.
"So he did own one of these? Excusez-moi ladies but, we knew Adam. May we join you? We're not going to pick you up, we're both gay and very much in love with each other." asked the second officer.
"Of course." said Amanda as she pushed out both empty chairs with her feet. The officers nodded, sat down and flagged Maxime down.
"Deux Stella Artois, s'il vous plait." (2 beers please). Maxime nodded and left.
"My name is Tara, and this is my co-worker Amanda. How did you know Adam?" asked Tara.
"I was his soon to be ex-roommate. I still have his contact information and will call his family back in Canada to inform them. He had no family or any real friends here, and I wasn't a perfect roommate for him, but this is the least I can do."
"When you're doing that, skip his girlfriend, they broke up today." stated Amanda.
"That must've happened between him kicking me out and the bank notifying him that the dagger was stolen. I have some francs in the bank, I will pay the landlord the remainder of Adam's rental agreement in exchange for me staying in the apartment. Frankly I was willing to do that anyway even if Adam was alive as my way of an apology. I know most of his past roommates were even worse than I was." lamented the first police officer.
Amanda's and Tara's hearts sank into their stomachs. At least 2 of his problems had solved themselves, If only Adam had stuck it out for just one more day or even a few more hours.
"Pardon me, mademoiselle. But...you look lost!" said the second police officer towards Amanda.
Amanda nodded at the accuracy of that assessment as Maxime arrived with the 2 beers. "There's an old expression in Canada that fits this situation: Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I'll grant that for a few people that do go through with it, it'll bring them peace. Especially if they're dying of a terminal illness or have mental illness so severe that no medicine or therapy or even institutionalization will help them but, Adam was in the prime of his life."
The officers nodded in agreement, all 4 of them raised their glasses saying "To Adam" as one. The clanking of the glasses was even emptier than before, much like their hearts.