Mystery of the Guillotine Killer (FrUK)

Chapter four

"Here is the address you requested and the doctor's telephone number," the receptionist smiled at me. "Thank you, do you know if that drawing was sketched?" I asked
"Oh yes! They got right to it fast. The picture of the sketch was sent to all newspapers to be posted, and I have a copy for you as well," she smiled. I took the paper from her and tucked it away in my journal. "Thank you; I will look at it soon. I am sure the sketch artist did a great job; now I will be off to this address; if Antonio asks for me, tell him I left to investigate." I smiled.

"You got it," the receptionist smiled, Seeing me off as I left for the city morgue. I have no idea where this address was, but I am sure that I would be able to find it quickly. Once I walked outside, I saw a man ringing a bell and handing out newspapers, just like the ones I had back home. "Excuse me, sir! Could you help me find this place?" I asked. I was speaking in French, and the man stared at me; I am sure my accent was noticeable.

"I do; it is not far from here; you are going to go down this street for a solid ten minutes. Then turn right, and walk for another five minutes. Turn left, and it should be on that street there" the man used hand motions, and I nodded. "Thank you so much..." I smiled. That was the worse direction ever, but I somehow understood them. I turned away from the man and started walking down the street he had pointed toward.

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Once I arrived outside of the building, I looked around the surroundings. There was another alleyway that had flowers and small gifts. Probably for another victim. I think that if I get a map of the city to see where the attacks occurred, I will be able to figure out how the killer works. I looked away from the alleyway and walked into the building. It smelt of hand sanitizer and bleach. I assume it always had to be disinfected. "Hello, May I help you?" Someone asked. I turned around quickly and saw a man.

He was wearing a bloodied apron with long black gloves. His beautiful blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and was pinned out of his face. "Oh, are you the detective they told me was coming?" He asked. I nodded slowly at him and finally showed him my hand to shake. "Oh, that won't be a good idea," he laughed. He showed me his gloves that were covered in some liquid. I nodded, looking at the gross liquid, pulling my hand away.

"Yes...I have a few questions about the victims that were brought here; From the guillotine killer," I said, showing him evidence that I was authority. "Ahhh, yes, I was the one who worked on them. Please, come to my office," he smiled. The man took off his gloves and apron. Promptly throwing them into a shoot, possibly for clothes.

I followed the man into his office, sitting by the desk. "This is the third time they sent someone to talk to me. So I hope you are different; you seem more serious." He spoke. Taking a seat across from me, I watched his every movement. "Oh, my apologies, my name is Francis, Francis Bonnefoy."

"Arthur Kirkland-." I cut myself off once I realized his last name. "Bonnefoy?" I asked, confused. "Yes, why do you ask?" He said, confused. "Well....are you related to Lucile?" I continued. He stopped, horrified at what I had just said, and looked at me seriously. "Why....yes, she is my little sister. Is she alright?" He asked. I smiled at him calmly before nodding my head. "She nearly survived the killer, thanks to her husband," I spoke. Francis finally breathed out, relieved, as he sat back in his seat. "That is good to hear; I do not know what I would have done if she were to have been......" he stopped talking and looked at me seriously.

"Well...I have some questions about the victims you worked on," I started.
"Yes! I will comply," he smiled.
"So, when you looked up the neck, could you tell how the people were disfigured? What weapons did the killer use to chop the heads off?" I asked.
"Oh yes! It was clean-cut. Of course, moving a guillotine around the city would be hard, so I assume the killer was using the next best thing. Which is a butcher knife, the same knife for every victim," he stated, and I looked at him curiously.

"How do you know?" I asked, confused.
"Well, there are certain bacteria build-ups from the second victim on. Like the killer does not clean the knife. Hence, using the same one for every victim. Blood coagulation causes the build-up. Except for the young boy, the killer used something else" Francis pulled out a file getting excited about the topic. "Like glass, maybe?" I asked, and he looked at me with a smile. "If he used glass, that would mean the butcher knife was dull and needed something else to cut."

"Exactly!!! I assume that the killer was stuck in the process of the cut. On the neck of the boy, there are signs of struggle to cut the piece of flesh off. However, the victim after him was a clean cut as well....meaning the killer went back to using a butcher knife," he explained. My eyes widened at what he said. "There was another death after the boy?" I asked. I had not heard about it, only the survivor. "Oh yes, it was on the eleventh of December," he stated. "I see," I said with a whisper. His sister was supposed to be the twelve victims, not the eleventh.

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