Chapter 20: Polnareff
According to Manon, J. Geil had left Paris three days ago. Just before he left, one of his drinking buddies noted he was heading south, but as for a specific destination... the drunk had no idea.
The truth was, J. Geil himself probably didn't know. He was a wanderer, drifting from place to place without a clear goal.
Jonas nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Manon. This information is a huge help."
A faint blush colored Manon's cheeks. "Oh, it was nothing, really. I just asked a few people..."
"Don't be modest. You've saved me a lot of trouble," Jonas said with genuine sincerity. "I'll be sure to thank you properly."
"In that case," Manon said, her heart fluttering as she almost blurted out her true feelings, "if you really want to thank me... you could... you could just buy me dinner."
Jonas chuckled. "Of course. No problem. I actually found a fantastic local bistro the other day..."
That night, Jonas and Manon had a farewell dinner. He drank more than he intended, and by the time he woke up the next day, it was already noon. The hotel room was a mess. He nursed his throbbing head, trying to piece together the previous night. He vaguely remembered Manon helping him back...
That afternoon, having pulled himself together, Jonas slung his travel bag over one shoulder, packed all his belongings, and set off south, following the trail of J. Geil. The sun beat down, illuminating the path ahead.
Meanwhile, in a French hospital...
Hol Horse was on the phone. Behind him, lying in a hospital bed, was the mummified, bandage-wrapped form of Alessi. An IV drip steadily fed medicine into his immobile body. The only part of Alessi visible was his eyes, which burned with a silent, profound hatred, glaring at Hol Horse's back.
If only this idiot could tell friend from foe, Alessi raged internally, I wouldn't be in this miserable state! He had prepared for defeat at Jonas's hands, but he had never imagined he would be taken out by his own partner. If he could move, he'd kill Hol Horse right now. Unfortunately, he was completely helpless... and he still needed someone to take care of him.
Hol Horse, blissfully unaware of the murderous aura behind him, was sweating as he tried to sweet-talk Enya the Hag.
"Look, it was an honest mistake! I'd never met Alessi before, how was I supposed to recognize him?"
"What?! You're docking my pay?! I dropped everything for this gig—everything, you hear me!—and you're docking my pay?!"
"A solution? Right, a solution! Just give me another partner! I'll definitely take out Jonas this time!"
"Uh-huh... yeah... I got it..."
"His name is J. Geil? And he's already here in France? Perfect!"
"You can count on me! No problem! Next time, I'll be sure to show that Jonas bastard what for!"
He hung up the phone and let out a long sigh of relief. His silver tongue had saved him from a pay cut. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, but as he was about to light one, he caught Alessi's venomous glare in his peripheral vision.
Hol Horse paused, then hesitantly offered the pack to the mummy. "You, uh... want one?"
Alessi, who couldn't move his arms, just stared. "..."
Back in Egypt...
Enya slammed the phone down, wiping a bead of cold sweat from her brow. Her plan to use Alessi and Hol Horse had been a complete disaster. Not only had Hol Horse failed to engage the enemy, he had actively attacked his own teammate.
But she had given him one last chance. If he could rendezvous with her son, J. Geil, and eliminate Jonas together, the plan could still succeed. And more importantly, the agonizing, soul-deep pain from her shadow-wounds would finally, finally end.
Knock, knock, knock.
A sharp rap came from her door. Enya instantly composed herself, her pained expression vanishing, replaced by the serene mask of the all-knowing mystic. She opened the door. Standing outside was a small, well-dressed Japanese man.
"Ah, Mr. Kira," she rasped. "You've come. Have you finally decided to purchase the Arrow?"
Three days later...
Jonas, following a trail of rumors, arrived in the small town of Grafton. According to the last person he'd spoken to, J. Geil had passed through here just yesterday. Now he just needed to pinpoint his location.
He entered a local shop and showed the photo of J. Geil to the proprietor.
"Have you seen this man?"
The shop owner took the photo, gave Jonas a quick once-over, then looked back at the picture. He put on a show of deep, difficult thought. Jonas's eye twitched. He knew this routine. The man wanted money.
Jonas pulled out his wallet and fanned open a thick wad of cash—Francs, US dollars, and various other currencies, all folded together. He began to count them, slowly, one by one, right in front of the owner's face.
A greedy, avaricious light appeared in the man's eyes.
"Tell me where he is," Jonas said, his voice flat as he continued to count.
"Well... seeing as you're in such a hurry, I suppose I can help," the owner said, his eyes glued to the money. "I saw him just this morning, in fact. Stood out in the crowd. Hard to forget a face... that ugly."
Jonas could sympathize. Just looking at J. Geil's photograph made his skin crawl.
"And?" Jonas pressed. "Where did he go?"
"Ah, that I don't know," the owner said with a shrug. "I'm just a shopkeeper, not a detective."
He held his hand out, palm up, ready for his payment.
Jonas slapped the man's hand away and stuffed the cash back into his wallet. "What, are you trying to rob me?"
"But... you said..." the owner sputtered, his face a mask of disbelief.
"What? A man can't count his own money?" Jonas replied, his expression one of pure, arrogant dismissal.
As he was dealing with the greedy shopkeeper, a tall man with a striking, gravity-defying silver flat-top walked past the shop, accompanied by two young girls.
The silver-haired man had a brilliant, carefree smile on his face. "Sherry," he said, his voice full of affection, "I'm going to buy some beef a little later. We'll have a big celebration for your birthday tonight!"
"Oh, Aniki!" the girl, Sherry, beamed. "Did you get me a present?"
"Of course I did! And it's the best one ever!"
"Wow, Sherry, your brother is so nice to you!" the other girl said, her face full of envy. "My parents are always too busy with work..."
"Hey, Amelie, you should come over tonight, too!" the man said, flashing a proud thumbs-up at himself. "We'll all celebrate Sherry's birthday together! And you can taste my, Jean Pierre Polnareff's, amazing cooking!"
"I wouldn't miss it!" Amelie replied. "And I've been working hard on Sherry's present, too!"
The trio continued down the sunlit street. A short while later, they arrived at a middle school. After saying goodbye to his sister, Polnareff turned and headed toward the market.
He wanted to get the beef while it was still fresh.