I am Luc of the Street

He Said the Magic Words

I found JP at my door last night. Waiting for me. He'd been gone nearly three weeks this time. By now, I've come to expect nothing from him. I'm through asking him to stay. I just left my door open and left it up to him.

Then last night, JP came home and said the words I've been waiting to hear: I'm ready.

I'm not about to cry victory yet; I know how hard it is to stay off the streets. "I'm scared," JP said. "Is that weird?" No, it's not weird. I was terrified when I first went to live with Bruno and his family. I didn't know how to live their life; didn't even know how to read. I'd been on the streets since I was a little kid. I became overwhelmed and ran away twice. But I stuck it out in the end, and it looks like JP might, too.

The timing isn't great now that I have this case. I'll be gone a lot and he might run off again. But if I can get him a job, something to occupy his time, help him grow some roots, this time might be the one that sticks.

A Headache Named Fifi

Poliveau. Franck. Lieutenant. Just hearing the name makes the skin on the back of my neck tighten. Ass. Pain. In The.

Thing is, I brought this headache on myself when I brought Poliveau on my team. He was with the first-responders who arrived at the Seine murder scene. I saw he was sharp, and I needed an extra pair of hands, so I took him on—in spite of his being smug and uptight. I figured it was just inexperience that made him self-righteous, so, to take him down a peg, I gave him the nickname "Fifi" then set out to school him.

I thought it would amuse me. I was wrong.

Turns out, Fifi's the offspring of a man from Internal Affairs, which explains his sense of entitlement, and that he's a by-the-book fusspot. I can feel his eyes on me while I work—scrutinizing, judging, questioning. Taking notes. I have a feeling I've just inherited my own personal Internal Affairs. I better be a good boy.

Moudie's not at all happy about Fifi coming on board. I have to keep an extra firm grip on his leash these days. He's very protective of his number-two status, and Fifi's ambition is obvious—always the first to run to the lab or volunteer ideas, especially when the chief is around. But Moudie shouldn't feel threatened. It's me Fifi seems to be gunning for. 

I should hate the kid, but strangely, I don't. That's the real reason for my headache. He has qualities I like—he's unflinching, sure of himself; he speaks his mind. And even though he's an uptight prig, he's unapologetic about it. It's hard to dislike someone that forthright. At least he declares himself openly; I can deal with that. Fifi is just young. A few more years on the job and he'll learn how much of life falls outside his little rule book. He's got the stuff to be a great detective—shrewd, thorough, relentless. He just needs to get out of his way. And mine.

Ripping Good Times

I got a feeling about this case. I think it’s going to be the case of my career—the one I’ve been waiting for, the one I was born for. Oh, Bruno, I wish you were alive to see this!

I can’t say much, but I think this killer may strike again. It’s no more than a hunch based on a tiny piece of evidence, but my gut tells me he’s just getting started.

I know what you’re thinking: I sound too excited about that. Henri said the same thing. He got all red-faced as he does when he scolds me. “People are going to die, Luc! Do you care about that?” Okay, sure. But hey, I’m not the one killing them. Why yell at me? I’m just saying—if it’s going to happen, better I'm the guy on the case. I’ll catch the killer faster than anyone, which means fewer victims. And that’s good, right? Right? Come on, you have to be a little happy for me.

I'm dedicating this case to Bruno. The last time Paris had a serial killer was in the ‘80s—in Montmartre, which was Bruno’s turf. Sadly, he’d just retired and missed out on the action. He did some investigating on his own, tried to share his insights, but they dismissed him. It broke his heart. “My time is over,” he said. “But you, kid—your day will come.”

Bruno was right. The "kid" finally has his day.

Death as a Cure for Boredom

The last three weeks have been like crawling through a desert, parched and desperate. JP hasn't been around, and I haven't had a case in weeks and weeks. Endless days droning on. Clocking in, clocking out. Coming home to an empty house. I've been dying of boredom, and feeling useless.

Then someone left a gift on my doorstep.

I got the call around 3:30 in the morning. The body of a middle-aged male was found on the embankment near Pont St. Michel—right below police headquarters. Balls, huh? No sign of struggle. No blood. The site was completely undisturbed. Someone had laid him out all nice and neat, right at our feet. And laid down a challenge with him.

Yeah, this was going to be a good one.

Unfortunately, it was chaos when I got to the scene. There were two groups of investigators: my team, and some first responders headed up by a green-gilled pretty boy. He wouldn't yield the investigation and people were trampling all over, potentially destroying what little evidence there was. I ran down to the embankment like a madman and demanded the site be cleared. You should have seen the look this uptight kid gave me—all smug in his jacket and tie, with his shiny loafers. You know the type: two years out of the academy and he thinks he knows more than a twenty-year veteran. "Poliveau, Franck, Lieutenant," was how junior announced himself, holding his badge in my face. Sure, I took a look at his badge. Then I sent Lieutenant Shiny Shoes and his team promptly to the sidelines to watch the experts work.

The site was immaculate, really. Not much to bag or tag. The victim's wallet was missing, but his expensive watch and jewelry were intact. I found a scrap of paper in his vest pocket, and half a fresh cigarette he was saving for later. Poor guy. Later never came.

The real evidence was the man himself. No obvious sign of foul play—yet there he was. Someone is using him to make a point. My job is figuring out what the point is.

Looks like I won't be bored anymore.