Chasing Rainbows

CHASING RAINBOWS

  By

  ANTHONY J BERRY

  Copyright © 2013 by Anthony J Berry

  Licence Statement

  Prologue

  At 8.30 in the evening the black Citroen turned onto the bridge from the left bank and stopped in the middle by the central arch. The car had false plates, which had been stolen from a vehicle in Picardy earlier in the day. It really didn’t matter as there were no cameras on the bridge and the light was beginning to fade so it would not have been easy to pick out detail from a distance. Besides, the Parisians and tourists were all having their evening meals and the workers from the city were already settled with their aperitifs in the hundreds of restaurants and bars which shared the embankment with the book sellers, artist galleries and the mime artists.

  The Pont Neuf spans the river Seine at one of its wider points as it meanders its way through Paris. The name translates as New Bridge, which seems rather inappropriate these days as it is one of the oldest bridges and was originally constructed in 1607. It was the first bridge in Paris which had been built without houses and commercial premises on it. The Parisii tribe of the time chose to build the crossing solely with the intention of connecting the Ĭle de la Cité with the artistic and creative Rive Gauch (left bank) rather than provide accommodation for the increasing Parisian population.

  It was quite an achievement for its time, with twelve full arches, and over the centuries it has become a rather romantic Mecca for lovers, tourists, artists and the numerous river craft which pass under it every day.

  The driver parked the car partly on the pavement; the passenger got out and went to the rear of the vehicle and opened the boot. The driver and passenger both wore dark suits, and had anyone been close to them it would have been obvious that the passenger by the boot was wearing a false beard and the driver a false moustache with oversized black glasses with no lenses. They would have seemed rather comical had there been any passers-by.

  A naked and bound male was dragged rather unceremoniously from the boot of the car. His hands were tied behind his back with rope and his feet bound together tightly with what appeared to be masking tape. The tape had also been used across the man’s mouth and wound tightly around his head so he could not make a sound. The bound male seemed a great deal smaller and lighter than the driver and passenger, who had no trouble dragging him from the boot and pushing him to the ground of the bridge. The bound man was sweating, frightened and struggling to get to his feet but the passenger kicked him down again then pinned him to the ground with his strong knees.

  From the boot of the car the driver took out a black bag. It was a soft bag, not leather but the type a labourer might carry containing tools. He opened the bag and removed what looked like a kitchen knife with a partly serrated edge. The bound man saw this and tried to struggle but was pinned tighter to the ground by the passenger, who pressed the man’s head to the hard concrete. The driver took hold of the bound man’s right ear and sliced it free from the frightened man’s body using the serrated edge. Blood ran across the pavement. The pain was horrific and the naked man screamed inside but no sounds came out.

  The ear was wiped with a tissue to take away some of the warm blood, then placed in a small clear plastic bag the driver took from his pocket. He then placed the bag into a small leather pouch and put it back into the boot. The driver then pulled out the three-metre piece of chain from the tool-bag which would be used to snap the frightened man’s neck.

  Their instructions from the man in charge were quite clear. The frightened man was to be hanged from the central arch of the bridge and one of his ears was to be removed; this would be sent to his ten year old daughter as a reminder that her beloved father had been “dispatched” by a man of considerable power. It was a message not only to the family but the whole of the Paris police department. It would be handed to the girl when she arrived at school the following morning. The man in charge needed to make an example. The man in charge was currently hosting a cocktail party in an apartment on the fashionable Rue Foch for some of the quarter’s most influential businessmen and artisans. The man in charge paid attention to detail and had a reputation to protect.

  One end of the chain was wrapped around the frightened and naked man’s neck and the other around the base of the old gas-light column. His pleas for mercy, which sounded like the squeal of a pig, fell on deaf ears as the passenger lifted the bound man onto the wall of the bridge and tossed him over the side without a moment’s hesitation.

  His neck snapped and he no longer squealed.

  Ellie May Watson from Weaver, Kentucky, sat on the top deck of the glass-topped Seine cruiser and looked around at the magnificent sights of Paris. She could hardly believe how lucky she was; if only her friends back home could see her now. Ellie and her husband Gerald Watson the third glided slowly along the river on one of the magical Bateaux Mouches, the famous Parisian tourist boats, and were about to enjoy real French wine and real French food. The boat was lit up by the hundreds of garland lights along its side and reflecting in the river. From the speakers came the distinct sound of Edith Piaf. Ellie had heard the woman’s voice before and made a mental note to ask the captain who was singing. She would get a CD of the women – real French music played on American stereo systems. How her friends would be impressed.

  “Could life get any better, honey?” she said to Gerald and looked up through the glass ceiling as they approached the central arch of the famous Pont Neuf bridge.

  It took only a few confused seconds to recognise that it was a body hanging from the bridge that the glass top of the boat had hit, and, as she let out the scream, the dead man’s bowels opened up.

  Ellie May Watson from Weaver, Kentucky, never returned to Europe.