Rosa

Chapter 18

Eyes wide, mouth agape, Moulin immediately raised his arms in a gesture of surrender.

His pale, freckled cheeks grew even paler as he demanded in shocked stutter, "Wh-who are you? How the hell did you get in here?"

Rosa dragged the barrel of her Beretta across the side of his face, giving his cheek a not-so-friendly little pat.

In steely tones, she murmured, "Non, non, this is not how our game will be played. You do not get to ask the questions. I am in charge now, and you are my bitch."

Moulin's brown eyes grew round with alarm.

He immediately apologized and started begging, "I will play along, mademoiselle. Please. Do not hurt me. I-I have a family."

She realigned her gun to his temple, scoffing, "If you cared about your family, then you never would have entered this line of... work."

He rasped, "I beg you, please, do not kill me."

She chose not to acknowledge his plea.

Rosa's earlier wash of sympathy for Claude Moulin as a family man had dissipated the moment he walked into the room with Mesrine. Judging from the snippets of dialogue Rosa had overheard, the two men were clearly on very friendly terms, and, as far as she was concerned, any friend of Mesrine's was no friend of hers.

Mesrine's main source of income came from human trafficking.

Specifically, sex trafficking.

Moulin was a criminal defense lawyer.

His bread and butter came from protecting men like Mesrine and keeping them out of prison.

As Rosa studied Moulin's frightened, guilty face, she wondered how many frightened, innocent girls Moulin had helped Mesrine steal from their homes and hold captive in the shadows of society.

Girls like her.

Quietly, she began her interrogation, "Tell me about your ties to Monsieur Lavigne."

Rosa was testing him with this first question, to see if Moulin would be truthful with her, since she already knew all there was to know about his relationship with the late "Mr. Lavigne."

Moulin sang like a canary, "The poor man is dead now, but I-I helped him assume a new identity not so long ago..."

The rest of Moulin's response, surprisingly, checked out.

Pleased, Rosa proceeded with her next question, "What do you know about the Favreau's ties to the De León's?"

Moulin grimaced.

This time, he hesitated before responding, "I..."

She shoved the barrel of her Beretta at him. "Go on."

With a gun digging into his head, Moulin gained some motivation to talk, "The De León's were once power players in arms trade..."

"But?" prompted Rosa.

"But, after Aberto and his sons... passed away... the De León name has since become worthless."

"Très tragique," Rosa quipped with an unimpressed grunt, "now, tell me about the Favreau's."

Moulin's face winced as though every word that slipped from his tongue pained him, "The Favreau's mainly deal in another kind of... trafficking."

Ah, yes.

Human... trafficking.

Like Mesrine.