Author Disclaimer: Kurtis Trent ain't mine, a'ight?! But (!), I do, however, own Inspector Claude Reynolds. Whoot! Lol. Francine, Pierre's ex doesn't belong to me either.

Chapter 3: Avertir! (Caution!)

Sat in the now bustling Cafe Metro was a woman who was gazing down at the tiled floor, her short brown hair forming a curtain around her face, hiding her red-rimmed eyes from the police officer sat opposite her. Policemen and coroners kept leaving, then entering again, bringing more equipment from the vans parked outside. Cameras flashed as pictures were taken of Pierre's lifeless form.
"Take your time, Mlle Priest." Inspector Reynolds said, breaking the silence between the two of them. "And tell me everything you know." Francine nodded and looked up at the man.
"Well," She began, wiping her eyes with a sodden tissue, "I came round here to give Pierre some of his things back- Mainly books that he'd lent me and I had forgotten to return. When I got to the cafe, it seemed deadly quiet..." Francine paused, and glanced up at the clock. "Even more so than usual." She added. Reynolds motioned for her to continue whilst making notes in a leather-bound notebook. "So I came inside, and found that Pierre had gone. I was curious- Pierre NEVER left the cafe, not even in emergencies." Reynolds raised an eyebrow. "He didn't like to leave it unattended." Francine explained. The inspector nodded again.
"And so he wasn't there...." He prompted.
"Or so I thought....I looked over at the wall, and saw the.....the.....the blood," Francine said, her hands shaking violently as she spoke. "I was dreading what I would see if I crossed over towards the bar.....But I went.....and what I had been fearing was true...." She stifled a sob, and pressed the tissue to her eyes again. Irritated by her blubbering, Reynolds began his questions.
"Did you see anything around the cafe which isn't normally there?" Francine began to shake her head, then stopped.
"Actually.....I did..."
"Well? What was it?" Claude Reynolds snapped.
"A motorbike.....Quite old looking. Green. Had big silver wing mirrors."
"You mean the one that is parked outside now?" Francine nodded. "So it didn't belong to Pierre then?"
"No......He didn't like anything that travelled at great speed...." Reynolds motioned to a policeman standing nearby.
"Check the motorbike outside. Get all the details you can about it, then try and trace the owner." The policeman nodded and left. Inspector Reynolds turned back to Francine. "Right. Anything else? A person perhaps?" Francine nodded again. Reynolds couldn't believe his luck. Maybe he was finally going to catch a criminal, a dangerous one at that, and thus wiping that smile off old Montague's face. Containing his excitement, he pressed on. "And what was this person like?"
"I couldn't really see much. But I know it was a man. Quite tall. Dark haired."
"Good.....good..." Reynolds said, scribbling eagerly away. "Facial features? Clothes?"
"I couldn't see.....He was standing down the alley next to the cafe. The one leading to the river."
"Alright. Thank you Mlle. Priest. Your information will be a lot of use to us." Reynolds stood, took one last look at Francine and swept out of the cafe. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sneaking past the dozing guard who was clearly supposed to be keeping a look out for unwanted persons, Kurtis made his way towards the moored boats.
"Sleeping like a baby....." Kurtis sneered, as the guard gave a loud snore. He found himself a deserted barge on which he could sit and wait for the cover of dark so he could retrieve the bike. Kurtis wrinkled his nose- The barge stank of rotting fish, and then there was the rancid background smell of the sewers mixed with it. "God....Paris has to be the worst smelling city in the universe." He muttered to himself. Kurtis squatted down, pulled out a cigarette from his pack and lit up. A low rumbling noise from somewhere over the other side of the river made him look up. Kurtis frowned. "What the-?" He began. A stream of fire was making it's way down a tunnel, and when Kurtis looked closer, he could see that there was a person sprinting away from it. "Ms Croft?" With a loud bang, the tunnel exploded, propelling the figure forwards in a cloud of smoke and flame. The body landed hard on the deck of another barge, and without her curtain of smoke and fire, Kurtis could clearly see that it was indeed Lara Croft. He made a soft clicking sound with his tongue. "Ms. Croft....Really. Getting yourself into trouble like that...." He watched her pick herself up, and then go sprinting off in the direction of the Louvre. Grabbing the cigarette from his mouth between thumb and forefinger, he flicked it, and it soared into the air before meeting a watery grave. Calmly, he walked off of the barge and back into the ship yard. As Kurtis passed him, the guard opened one eye sleepily. Spotting Kurtis, he opened the other and stared blearily at him.
"Oi!" He called, "Oi you!" Kurtis stopped. "Yes! You!" The guard said, wiping his eyes. Smiling eerily, Kurtis walked over to the guard, like a dog following it's master. "What are you doing here?" The guard asked, blinking far more times than any normal person would. Kurtis remained silent. "Well?!" The guard pressed on, looking (or rather blinking) at Kurtis expectantly.
"Just a dream....." Kurtis said in what he hoped was a convincing, dream-like voice. "It's all just a dream....."
"Oh right." The guard said stupidly. Kurtis nodded and began to slowly make his way around to the back of the guard's chair, on the look out for any heavy objects. A large pile of rocks lay on the floor near some rope. "Great." Kurtis thought, edging nearer to the rocks. He crouched, grabbed the nearest one and stood up again.
"Sweet dreams!" He said, leaping behind the man and bringing the rock down onto his head. The man slumped unconcious to the floor. "What an idiot." Kurtis said, shaking his head in total disbelief. He looked up to the sky- Darkness was now almost upon Paris, with just a faint sliver of sunlight just peeking over the horizon. "Darkness is here- Time to get the bike." Casting one last glance at the unconcious guard, Kurtis turned and left the docks, heading towards the Cafe Metro, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of the Police.
Kurtis turned into the familiar side-street which ran along side Cafe Metro. Taking care to keep quiet, Kurtis crept along in the cover of the shadow and peered around the corner of the building. He had to keep himself from crying out loud, for his motorbike that he loved so dearly had gone. Making sure the coast was clear, Kurtis cautiously stepped out into the open and stared at the spot where the motorbike had rested. Police tape fluttered weakly against the door, like a moth at a window, beating it's wings, trying to break the glass. Kurtis swore under his breath. The police had obviously taken his bike as some kind of evidence, and there was no way he would be able to get it back......Well, not just yet anyway. Still muttering obscenities, Kurtis headed towards Le Serpent Rouge, taking a more discrete route than he would have done if he wasn't being hunted down by the Police, even if it did involve several flights of stairs.
Once at the bottom of these steps, Kurtis peered into the pitch black. Janice the Red Lady had disappeared- "Obviously doing one of her clients." Kurtis thought as he stifled a yawn. Passing through the door beside Le Serpent Rouge, he headed for the derelict Metro cart, also known as Hobo Central.
"Spare any change Mister?" The cry for money followed Kurtis as he made his way towards the train. He just ignored them, pretending not to have heard them. The odd one or two grabbed at his legs, but he shook them off, leaving them lying in the dust, yelling insults at him.
Eventually he reached the train, and exhausted, Kurtis clambered into it, found a reletively clean seat and lay down. "Tomorrow, the Louvre." He thought sleepily, as he closed his eyes, shutting out the faint light from the tramp's fires. Within minutes, Kurtis Trent was fast asleep and dreaming, rather like (or unlike) the guard at the docks.

Sorry. This was totally uneventful. You get that with chapters. Next one I PROMISE will be a good one. Wahey! The Louvre. More sneaking. And things will be revealed to our dear Mr. Trent. Hehehe. R&R please m'dears. You can have....uh....Gum! *holds out gum for all* Better than cookies I think you'll agree. ^_~