La Pute

10

"What do they want? Now what do you mean by that, Clarissa?" the Sergeant rubbed his bearded jaw with his thumb and looked at her with a puzzled face. His bewilderment was almost unfounded for Fontaine. Had he never thought about it in such a way? Did he not ask such questions on a daily basis? In Paris Fontaine was used to thinking about each case not only as a bunch of text, numbers and gruesome images, but as a whole book. A book that she would never get to complete because it was missing too many pages.

"Why, they want to liberate the working class, of course", he responded as though he had read it from a textbook, which may even have been the case. "Then, why would they be openly affiliated with foreign bankers like Mr. Lopez?" Fontaine fired, partly by accident as she then figured it would have been better to keep such information to herself. But the Sergeant didn't seem too surprised, but rather, unable to give another textbook answer. "I wonder, Clarissa, I wonder. The minds of criminals are often impossible to be understood by people like us".

Fontaine had anticipated such a response, but she was still distraught by his ignorance. Though, it must have been an attitude shared among most officers in Marseille, as it had been for generations. Shutting their eyes and ears was likely the only way to protect their dignity as law enforcement, and that part, Fontaine understood.

To liberate the working class? What did that really mean? It could mean concrete political advancements like adapting welfare policies from other European countries, or it could mean a second revolution. Or it could mean nothing. The only demands that the people's movement had made so far were too vague to be understood by politicians and to result in any long-term change. But there was unshakable unanimity among the lower class when it came to supporting Maxence, even if Le Cœur theoretically classified as a mob. But civilians weren't aware of the real numbers and violence that went on behind the scenes, because a lot of southern newspapers were paid off by affiliates and the word never made it out of the region. When Fontaine thought about that, she realized that the Heart was much more organized and swift than one would think. They just didn't know.

Then a thought occurred to her. "Are there any records of cooperation with Italian syndicates?" She turned to Roche, her eyes wide in anticipation. She had to know. "Not that I know of. I don't think they have a good relationship", the Sergeant answered after some thinking. "Why would you ask such a thing, Clarissa?"

Why?

Truth to be told, she had heard that same question one too many times during her life. Not only after she became a part of the workforce, but also beyond that when she was still too young to understand the answers and absorb the truth that was often simple, just vulgar.

But despite that, she never really changed.

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.

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Would you forgive me even if I carried on living without you here? Would you be able to forgive the world for not ending with you? I think you would say yes, or something along those lines. I'm still hesitant to apologize, but by the time I'm ready. I hope it won't be too late.

Rest in peace within the meadows and the wildflowers.

For heaven awaits us all.