Gaston Morrell was drowning, The waters of the Seine were soothing as they clogged his lungs. He began to remember the six women that he had strangled. As he slipped into oblivion, Morrell knew that he was totally innocent of the deaths of the women. They had only themselves to blame. It had all started with Jeanette.
She had such a wonderful angelic face. Beneath that face was the soul of a prostitute. Once he learned the truth, he had no choice but to kill her.
She had to pay for her deception. The same was true of the others…Renee with her smothering jealousy…Francine the police spy…Gaston had only one regret. I was writing my report to Commissioner Mifroid when you arrived. The police official spoke with great emotion. For the last several weeks, he had pursued a maniacal killer. The press had dubbed the criminal Bluebeard because he preyed on women like the wife murderer of folklore.
Lefevre had summoned Francine Lutien, a female undercover agent, in order to set a trap for Bluebeard. The loss had hit Lefevre hard because he had been passionately in love with Francine. Fortunately, my men and I arrived in time to save her. Morrell tried to escape us by fleeing across the rooftops. He lost his footing and fell into the Seine.
My men are searching for his body now. You were overcome by grief at the loss of a close friend. If you wish to retract your offer, I fully understand. You clearly have much work to do tonight, Inspector. We can discuss my future tomorrow.
