Montmartre was not just some street in a small town. It was a large area of a busy city, steeped in history and overflowing with a wide range of diverse interests and businesses. There were thousands of inhabitants, tens of thousands who could pass through every day. No possible end to where Yliaster could be lurking. Maybe they were hiding in the basement of a pastry shop, perhaps they had somehow claimed the Sacré-Cœur Basilica. With twilight starting to settle across the sky and prying eyes watching for any outliers of the evening crowd, Crow's criminal senses tingled in the direction of middle-aged brunette.
"Excusez-moi?" With a charming smile and handsome wink, Crow was able to ingratiate himself to a waiting tour guide in flawless French. "Still room for one more?"
A scripted line about quotes and lines momentarily froze as the young brunette saw the handsome face. "Sorry, pre-bookings only." Tiny twitches around her mouth and eyes indicated that she wasn't entirely committed when it came to Crow.
"That's a shame." Some disappointment crept into his eyes as the smile deepened slightly. "Maybe I could just tag along nearby? 'Paris' is quite beautiful but it's difficult to get around easily." Flirting but not creepy, smiling but not grinning. A folded note in his palm as Crow reached out to shake her hand sealed the deal with the guide.
"We'll be starting out from the Pigalle Metro. A lot of people come in on the train so we usually have a few stragglers." Tourists tended to believe that their tiny fees gave them all the authority they needed to bend the rules. That wasn't what drew Crow's attention about that particular tour though.
"Isn't Pigalle the 'red light' district?" What bribe Crow had already handed over went straight to paying for that comment as the official members of the group arrived and the guide started speaking.
"Good evening. My name is Annabelle. Anna to my friends, never Belle." It was said with a smile and a laugh and the whole group – bar Crow – instantly felt at ease with this stranger. "We start our tour at the Pigalle district. In days long past," Annabelle glanced at Crow with a look twice as dirty as any glare. "It had a sketchy reputation as being the red-light district but it's our green light for the start of this tour." A few half-hearted chuckles came at the almost-dirty joke. Crow just scowled less and glanced over one shoulder.
Their tour took them past Cité du Midi, a gorgeous little street that had been unfortunately closed off to the public but had a picturesque quality of not what Paris was but what it had been in more idyllic times. In keeping with the clustering group, Crow was practically forced to take a few photos on his phone. A similar view of Villa des Platanes gave them a glimpse of the more imperious architectures of history just a few steps further down the road. They were beautiful sights that Crow would have normally loved to see but both eyes were constantly roaming around each site as he searched for anything out of the ordinary. Even the legendary Moulin Rogue was given only a passing glance with the thronging crowds cutting the group off from more than a view from the end of the street.
They stopped for drinks at the cosy Café des Deux Moulins. "How do you take yours?" Winning some extra points with tour guide Anna, Crow paid for two cups of the strongest coffee available. Deux Moulins charged at tourist prices in an already expensive part of the city. It was enough for a proper meal in many smaller cities.
"Black." Gratefully accepting the steaming takeaway cup, it was the little bribes that made the difference. "You can get more caffeine in when you don't dilute it. Sugar slows you down and milk makes for mistakes." Something about the saying flashed up in his memory.
"Cop for long?" Good cops learned varying tricks to stay awake. One of the guys who worked in the garage with Crow had spent his third straight shift literally singing all the tools available under his breath for hours on end without pause. It was eerie.
"Six years. Reported a superior for corruption, got let go the next day." It was a nasty reality to find yourself in. "What about you?" Only people who worked the law could pick each other up so quickly. That isn't to say both had to work the same side of it.
"A few months. Spent most of my early years on the other side." Tiny tingles ran through primal instincts. Knowing without knowing how, Crow had the unmistakable realisation that somebody nearby had recognised him. He had been 'made'. It was impossible to know who had noticed him in the crowded establishment.
"What made you change your mind?" It had been so fast that Anna hadn't even noticed the twinge of discomfort.
"Mostly stole to keep myself and a few others fed. Met some nasty people along the way." Scanning through the crowds going in and out of the door and eating around the floor. Checking out people behind him with the mirror behind the bar. Crow was keeping himself busy as the conversation was kept up. "When the chance came to make a difference, I took it."
"So what are you doing in France, taking an under-the-table tour?" Nobody could scope out a room forever – especially when an ex-cop was right beside them – so Crow catalogued as many faces as he could in the precious few seconds he could reasonably spend turning his head.
"Needed to clear my head. I know somebody who's not exactly sociable and said they would be somewhere around here." It was near enough the truth he didn't feel bad.
"Hey, Jingle Belle!" A rude Italian gentleman was almost thrown clear through the window as he shouted from right behind Crow. "When are we getting back on with this tour? I'm not paying just to wait around while you flirt with your customers."
"Just as soon as everyone has rested up." Defusing the situation with a smile and clap of her hands, Anna pressed a finger into Crow's arm to stop him turning around.
"Let me at least pick his wallet." A joyful tone made it clear he wasn't being serious unless she gave him permission. "Wanna bet I can get his watch as well?"
"That's enough out of you." Draining her own cup with the stoicism of a serial night-worker, she forced his own mug back onto the counter. "Cop to cop, it looks bad if your customers make a habit of losing personal possessions."
"Con to cop, what if the money just happened to make its way into a charity pot and the wallet went right back where it started off?" That particular comment cost him slightly more to keep himself on the tour when the finally left the iconic cafe.
They passed the Bateau Lavoire and stared at the trademark green doors that distinguished it as the location where one of Picasso's own studios had once resided. For those unimpressed by legends of masters past, Rue d'Orchampt provided an alluring if illegal gallery or graffiti that was painted clean once a month by the very type of artists who would then cover this new canvas in the coming weeks. Le Moulin de la Galette – once a favourite of Van Gogh himself – was only possible to have a short observation with the restaurant underneath in full swing. If events had been drastically different, Crow would have loved every second of the enchanting tour as it wound down beautiful streets and amazing alleys. Anna clearly had as much understanding of her city as Crow did his, if not more. It was a waste of magnificent job to simply act as a cover while Crow gauged his surroundings beneath a ridiculous disguise and behind the clicking cameras of tourists.
Clos Montmartre sailed by as Anna explained it was the only vineyard to have survived since the Roman Empire had successfully conquered Paris hundreds of years ago. It was as they approached the end of Rue De La Bonne that something of interest finally happened. A bearded face had been following the group ever since they left Café des Deux Moulins. Crow had spotted it a few times, lurking just out of sight of the group and only following when it thought he was looking the other way. Reflections from windows and in passing cars had let him keep track but it was only when a clear avenue presented itself that they finally approached from behind, aiming for the man right beside Crow.
Had Martha been even slightly less intense in drilling some manners into his head, he might have been willing to let the rude Italian get whatever was coming to him. Instead, Crow shifted around him, taking the outside edge of the group in an effort to move further ahead. His mark was good but nowhere near the same level as Crow himself. A tiny bump as they passed but nothing more. An easy mistake to make.
"Excuse me," Grabbing the throat in one hand, he smashed the pinwheeling figure into the ground and pressed one knee onto his chest and the other tourists either screamed or started taking pictures. "You appear to have something that belongs to me."
"What is going on?!" Anna was faster than most cops with twice her stated experience. One hand had pulled a can of pepper spray from a back pocket and the other had already found several zip ties to secure her suspect with.
"Meet your average pickpocket." It was unlikely this was the person responsible for having given Crow the feeling of being recognised. More likely just an opportunist who saw a loud tourist as the perfect opportunity for a quick pick. "What have we got here?" Performing a highly illegal and through search, each pocket was emptied out in turn. "Six watches, two new phones and four wallets? Somebody's been busy." Grabbing the warmest leather pouch, he left the guilty party still gasping on the floor. "Next time," Slamming it into the Italians' chest, he risked winding a second man in as many minutes. "Try being a bit more polite to your guide."
It was a majestic view from the Sacre Coeur. Architect Paul Abadie had carefully aligned it on an almost perfect north-south axis atop the hill for sweeping sights of the main hub of Paris. On a clear night, it was possible to watch one street after the other slowly become illuminated by the light of hundreds of homes and thousands of streetlights. It was even possible to catch a glimpse of the famous Eiffel Tower off to the right and far away in the distance. Quiet footsteps approached from behind as the group continued to gawk at the fabulous architecture behind him.
"Guessing your friend isn't going to show." Anna could probably see the tension in his shoulders as Crow looked over the city. He had assumed the lights of streetlamps and cars would alleviate the flashbacks and instinctive fear. It had been a stupid attempt to keep his centre intact that had failed dramatically. Night shadows had always been a useful tool in his arsenal until the incident in America had filled him with a new fear of the dark.
"Probably not." Few people of repute were actually out as the tour was starting to wind down. It would have helped if Crow had more familiarity with the Parisian criminal underworld and could tell who did what. Asking Anna to point out the unknown illegal elements would probably be too suspicious to let slip past, especially considering his own criminal past. "It was a long shot at best."
"Reckon your friend will wait around a few days?" Anna very clearly wasn't stupid, especially with six years of work in the police service.
"Maybe. I'll just have to wait and see." That rude Italian from before made the mistake of leaning on the rails a short distance away. One glare from Crow drove him away fairly quickly. "Best that I leave before your colleagues get here. I'm trying to keep a low profile, after all." Avoiding the police was a criminal indication, helping where it wasn't necessary pointed the other way. Something about the combination clearly appealed to Anna.
"Here," Pulling an old piece of card from her pocket, Anna pressed it into Crow's palm. "I do some P.I. work for my day job. Give me a call if you need a few questions asked off the books." Flicking the card with his spare fingers, Crow did the polite thing of dropping his scowl. That pressure on his psyche the past few days had made him more and more like Jack. Considering he was in France, maybe it would have been more appropriate to call him 'Jacque'.
"Thanks." Slipping the card into his pocket, he gave a respectful nod. "I'd best get going now." Just before he departed into a solitary walk through the night, Crow turned back again. "Name's Crow. Look me up if you're ever in Japan." Waving over one shoulder, he began to descend down the thick concrete steps as Anna collected the wandering members of her tour group.
What questions Crow was going to ask would kill most people who asked them. Tearing the rectangle in half, he tossed both parts into a bin as he walked past. It was a shame, Anna had been nice. He would have liked to make a friend had the situation allowed it.
For the sake of convenient circumstance, neither party happened to notice the exact time. It could have easily been at the same moment that Crow was dipping his way down the steps outside the iconic church that another figure was struggling to navigate the labyrinthine streets in of the capital city in a country where her knowledge of the language extended as far as 'Can you tell me where the train station' and doing a crude imitation of a gondolier (languages not exactly having been at the forefront of her education). It was, of course, Musume struggling to make her way through the night with only a paper map she had lifted from a newspaper stand as she passed by. A few passing comments by the pilot Director Morton had directed to extract Yusei and his friends from America but she had put up a 'compelling argument' to fly them both to where the other plane had landed.
Part of the charm of maps is their ability to tell you exactly where your destination is and the best way to get there. This is marvellous feat is dependent on knowing roughly where you are to begin with to a more accurate degree than 'the city of Paris'. It was with the exact mindset that directing Musume down several 'shortcuts' that inevitably managed to increase her circular journey by hours as each grew increasingly longer. Her latest was down a sweeping avenue that would cut between two large boroughs and hopefully make up the time. Good signs abounded. Wide opening, important buildings on both sides of the alleyway and... laughter coming from somewhere nearby.
"Ya're going the wrong way, lass." Leaning in the shadowy recess of a sunken doorway, a stocky figure was sucking on the end of a lengthy pipe stem.
"How can you tell?" Crumpling the map into her pocket, Musume was instantly on her guard. Most people were put off by her overwhelming bloodlust that sprang at the slightest inconvenience.
"Because ya're about to head into ah network of de'dands." Despite talking in the depths of rural Paris, the talker was speaking English in a thick Irish accent that masked just about everything about it. Musume's grasp of that language was better than her French and she was able to converse at a steadier pace.
"Where's the La Avenue des Champs-Élysées?" Mangling grammar without realising it, Musume was also flustered enough by being lost in a strange city that she didn't realise she had given out more information than was safe until much later.
"Back out th' way you come, half-mile left, try again when you're in the righ' neighbourhood." An easy-going manner, charming accent and the most convenient meeting since Bruno had cornered the Signers at the opening gala of the WRDGP. If they hadn't been presenting a steady argument for being in the wrong place, Musume would have instantly launched herself at the doorway with murder in both eyes and each fist.
"Any other advice?" All of her instincts were on high alert. Partly because the dark doorway and dimly glowing pipe prevented a clear view of the figure's face, partly because it was clear this meeting was too coincidental to be true coincidence and entirely because nothing in her life had ever gone entirely according to plan.
"Aye. Don't worry about the water. Everything will work out in the end." Looking overhead presented no signs of clouds to start raining. Creaking hinges drew her attention back to the closing door as her unorthodox guide departed through a tightly hidden doorway.
"Weirdo." Despite the unusual attitude of her guide, there was no doubt that the advice was well warranted. It only took ignoring it for many minutes and fully exploring the same seven (out of more than twenty) closed alleyways before she paid any attention to it. Although she had probably left through the same avenues she entered from – having lost all certainty of direction during a length of time she promised herself to never divulge to anyone, ever – Musume had the uncanny impression that she couldn't pick out the doorway the latest intrusion into her life had hovered in. Turning out of the alleyway, she soldiered onwards with stubborn determination. Five minutes later, she turned and walked back past the alley in the direction she had actually been pointed.
If you haven't already read Chapter 16, you're all good. If you have, skip back a bit, I updated it slightly with some bits I forgot the first time around.
Apologies to everyone who received multiple update emails for this chapter. I realised I had left a few spelling mistakes and one name unchanged from an earlier draft before I published. Always check first and then leave a review after (go on, everyone loves posting a review).