Paris, 1868
On a bright sunny day, Eric Diane, a young man, a vibrant man, sat with his fiance in a quaint downtown cafe in Paris, France. "One Earl Gray, s'il vous plait," he called out to the waiter. The waiter nodded, bringing him his drink. Scurrying to the kitchen, the drink was served.
"Drink fast, mon cher," his fiance told him, "Grandmere is expecting us." Nodding, Eric drank in his tea. Three minutes later, he fell to the ground, his fiance screaming, and chaos breaking loose. "Help me! Help me," she cried. Running, screaming, in the middle of this fearful hurricane, Eric Diane lay dead.
^^^
"Good afternoon" greeted a lanky middle-aged man in a brown plaid trench coat.
"Salutations, Inspector St Claire, how is your morning," The seventy-year-old female detective, Danielle Survius replied. She was well known for being the best in all of Europe, only rivaled by the fictional Hercule Pirot in terms of famous French detectives.
"Not the best, madame," he told her.
"Oh?" she asked.
The Inspector coughed. "You see, madame, there has been another murder. The press is calling it the Hollow Cup Killer."
"Correct me if I am wrong, inspector, but the one you are referring to, is not the premier decades?" she inquired.
"That is correct, madame. The l'ambassade française wishes for your expertise on the matter. The public is alarmé, they wish for results." The inspector said gruffly, shifting from foot to foot.
She nodded, considering his proposal. "Will you send me the case files, Monsieur?"
He looked up at her hopefully, "you are accepting the case, Madame?"
Shaking her head she said, "I will look over the case files, Inspector. I will make no promises, this case could potentially be beyond my pouvoirs de déduction."
"Mother!" A young woman with a similar complexion and an overly cheery disposition cried out, "you must take on the case! People are dying, they need you, Maman! France needs you."
Danielle sighed at her daughter, "Antoinette, mon cheri. This is a delicate situation, I cannot dive into this rashly."
"Wanting to prevent deaths is not rash, Maman." Antoinette insisted, "please, what if I fell victim to this monster, you would not rest till that murderer was behind bars?a How could you not do the same for them?"
"You have plenty to say on the subject, mon cheri." Danielle said softly, "though I will factor your opinion in my decision."
Antoinette clapped eagerly, "ah, thank you, Mamon."
Inspector St Clair added in, feeling neglected, "we thank you for consideration to our offer, Madame. However, I must agree with your daughter, Madame Survius, people's lives hang in the balance here."
Waving her hand at him, "yes, thank you, Inspector," Danielle said offhandedly, " I have decided already."
Both Antoinette and Inspector St Claire leaned forward, eagerly awaiting her response. "I will accept," she said simply before walking out of the parlor. Clapping, Antonette danced after her and the Inspector sank in relief.
The Next Day
"The latest victim was male, yes?" said Danielle said to the coroner.
He nodded, "there was traces of Arsenic poison in his system. The other victims, Anaice Ryle, Willimehre Natalia, and Cassavanna Rolo also had it as well. They each died within minutes of consumption."
