Retrospective: Paris - How things got messy

4.1. Francesco De la Cruz - New evidence
Fall 1993, Paris police headquarters

Francesco was in deeper shit than he ever had thought he could end up.
When the police had shown up at their door, his first suspicion was that they had found another witness to the murder case. But it was much worse.
While another witness would have only proven him and Mae lying about not being at the crime scene when it happened, the recent finds in the investigation suddenly put him in a position where it didn't matter anymore if he pulled the trigger himself or not.
They found Diego's keys.
Or rather, what they opened.
One of them fit into a warehouse, about 280m² big, down in the harbor.
Stocked up to the roof with brand new Mendoza HM-3s and a few kilograms of pure black tar. Only the finest quality, of course, freshly imported from Mexico.

Diego never accepted less than the best, Francesco thought with a grim smile.
All in all, everything was worth millions.

"That's why you murdered him, isn't it so?", the inspecteur had asked, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. "You both had a little business, but you got into a disagreement."
"And been so stupid to leave those keys on him?", Francesco had countered.
"Monsieur De la Cruz", the pendejo said with his shiteating crooked grin and a smooth voice, "in this chair many stupid criminals have sat before you, and I have brought them all to justice. Might be you did not know your - partner" he emphasized the word, "had keys to the warehouse with him. Might be your henchmen messed up. Or you simply had not have the time to take the keys, considering your little lady friend has looked out for you and maybe ran into you a little too early..."
"Vete a la verga", Francesco spat.

The noise of the pendejo's hands slamming the desk almost let Francesco jump up.
The man had more force in him than he looked like.
"Scum like you will not. Disrespect. Me.", he hissed.

And that's how Francesco had ended up here.
In a single cell, waiting to be transported to custody the next day.
Based on the fact that he had shared his life for almost five years with a grand criminal and l'inspecteur expressed his serious concerns that Francesco might flee the country before it could come to a trial.
Because of course Francesco had somewhere hidden hoarded a ton of money, and an army of henchmen greedy enough for it to help him out of any pinch.
What a bullshit.
If that were true, he wouldn't sit here, first of all.

Soft footsteps pulled him out of his grim pondering. 

"I think I'm deaf on my right ear", Arthur joked. Francesco had to smile. Mae's high-pitched voice hurt when she got upset. The young officier had promised to call her when it was clear that Francesco wouldn't come home tonight.
"Charlotte is there, she'll take care of her", he added.
"Thanks", Francesco said, cursing that he even wasn't allowed to talk to Mae on the phone.
Precautions.

But at least the inspecteur had limited his delusional crime fantasies to Francesco alone, and left her out of this mess.

"François...", Arthur still stood there and shifted uncomfortably in his place. "I'm sorry... if it was for me to interpret the evidence, I'd say it points to another direction, but -"
He scratched his head and didn't finish the sentence.
Francesco didn't say anything. He knew Arthur believed him. Despite keeping a watchful distance to Francesco at first, the blonde man had still warmed up to him quite fast in the last weeks.
Not that it was any helpful now, though.
"I think you should contact your family lawyer", the blonde man added.

Francesco cracked up. "Dude... I just barely make enough for food and rent. And... I don't have a family." These rich people, like Arthur, certainly lived in another universe.
"Oh... uhm...", the officier seemed even more uncomfortable now. 

"Anyway, thanks again Artie, and good night", Francesco offered him to escape his embarrassment.
Visibly relieved, Arthur told him good night back and left. 

And Francesco leaned back and returned to his dark ponderings. A selfish part of him wished Mae would be here with him.
How stupid.
Of course they would have locked them in different cells so it wouldn't make any difference.

But he missed her cheerful optimism, as irrational and naive as it was. Unwittingly her joy for life, her kindness, and most of all, her unconditional love for him had changed his whole perspective. And to what previously had been solely a grim determination not to give up, she had woken something that had been long lost.
Hope.
There was more in life for him than just success, there was love, happiness, passion. He just had to let go of all the fear and anger and desperation. 

"It will be fine. We'll find a way out", he could almost hear her voice.
He smiled at so much naivety.

The next morning a guardien returned and opened the cell. With him was another man in a suit jacket. Francesco hadn't seen him so far.
"You may leave now, Monsieur De la Cruz", the guardien said. "Please pick up your belongings at the reception."
Francesco was still drowsy, certainly this must be a weird dream. 

"My name is Etienne Armand", the tall man in the suit introduced himself. "I'm your lawyer now, and your imprisonment here is not justified concerning the lack of hard evidence. Please join me for an hour or two so we can discuss your case."