Chapter 8 - The Chemist’s Confession
The French Quarter was deserted under the morning drizzle.
Water dripped from wrought-iron balconies.
We parked two blocks away from the perfumery.
The sign out front read: L'Aura des Fleurs.
The scent of synthetic lavender and old alcohol leaked into the street.
I walked up to the rear service door, dressed in a simple courier jacket.
I tapped the brass knocker three times, paused, and knocked once.
The exact rhythm Bianca had instructed me to use months ago.
A sliding peephole clicked open.
A pair of yellowed, nervous eyes peered out.
"Shipment isn't ready," a nasal voice muttered in French-accented English.
"Miss Vane sent me for the rest of the antidote," I whispered, pitching my voice
with urgent fear.
"The don is suspicious. She needs to clear the evidence now."
The heavy deadbolt turned.
The door cracked open.
Lorenzo kicked the door with the force of a battering ram.
The wood exploded inward, striking the man in the face.
He flew backward into a table of glass beakers, crashing in a shower of
shattered glass and colored chemicals.
Lorenzo stepped inside, dragging Moreau up by his collar before the chemist
could reach for a pistol on the counter.
Lorenzo slammed him against a brick wall lined with glass jars.
"Monsieur Moreau," Lorenzo said softly, pressing the hot muzzle of his sidearm
under the man's chin.
"You made a cocktail for my mother."
Moreau choked, smelling the scent of gunpowder and rain.
"I... I didn't know who it was for! She paid fifty thousand cash!"
"Where is the Delacroix delivery meeting?" Lorenzo asked, cocking the hammer.
"You have three seconds to save your knees."
"The abandoned sugar refinery!" Moreau shrieked, wetting himself.
"Pier 9! Salvatore Delacroix is there right now! He's unloading fifty crates of
Romanian rifles for Bianca’s men!"
Lorenzo looked at Matteo.
"Secure him. Call the federal marshals to raid this lab."
Lorenzo looked at me.
"Pier 9 is five miles downriver."
May you like
His silver eyes flashed with cold anticipation.
"Let's finish this."
