The Lion of Justice Read Online Free PDF Page A

there was urine all over the floor. I felt for his wallet but couldn’t find it in his pockets. He didn’t wear a watch or any rings. His bare feet were covered in curly black hair.
    I scanned the room for his shoes and a potential murder weapon. Why were his shoes gone? What sort of shoes could’ve revealed his identity? Were they custom-made? The way he was lying on the sofa didn’t reveal whether one of his legs was shorter than the other, but if that was the case, it could’ve indicated that he had shoes with special thicker soles.
    The room showed no signs of a struggle. What did that mean? Had the room been cleaned right after the man was shot, or had he given in without protest? The way he lay on the sofa was also curious, as if he’d been sleeping and someone had surprised him. The man could have shot himself if his arm had been flexible enough. Then again, hardly anyone who committed suicide would shoot himself in the back of the head, and he couldn’t hide the weapon afterward.
    There was a commotion outside the kitchen. I tiptoed into the kitchen and looked out the window. A familiar-looking old man was sweeping the street, although it was an odd time for it. A black-and-white cat was following the man closely. Suddenly it turned toward me, narrowed its eyes, and hopped onto the windowsill. I moved away from the window so I wouldn’t be seen. Maybe the man was waiting nearby to see how I reacted. I hadn’t figured out whether the body had been left there for me to discover or whether someone was trying to frame David. Or maybe David had done it. Daniel Lanotte, the renter, could have disappeared, and only I knew who the real renter was. Maybe David assumed I would never tell on him. Or he could be lying somewhere just as dead as the man on his sofa.
    I needed to know what David was hiding in the hutch, but there was no more time for messing around with small knives, so I took a small hatchet and a crowbar from the cleaning closet. I felt bad for breaking such a beautiful piece of furniture, but I had to do it. I hacked away at the hutch and pulled the pieces apart with the crowbar.
    The top drawer held a big envelope sealed with red varnish. The paper was thick and white. I removed the top drawer and looked into the drawer underneath it. I assumed I would find a gun, but instead there was a brass kaleidoscope. Why the hell would David have hidden one of these? I was jumping to conclusions—it could have belonged to the owner of the house, too, but if not, it may have been used to hide all sorts of things, from microfilms to drugs.
    The village church bells rang at ten thirty. If I left now, I could still find a place to stay in a nearby village. I took a moment to think about what to do with the objects and decided to take them along. Whoever had killed the man had not thought the hutch contained anything important, so I was a step ahead of them. I hid the kaleidoscope and the envelope among my dirty clothes and tried calling David again. A phone rang in the living room.
    I hadn’t looked for David’s phone in the apartment, assuming I couldn’t reach him. I walked back into the living room, and once the ringtone went silent, I called David again. The sound was coming from the sofa. I approached the body carefully, realizing I had only attempted to look for his wallet in his pants, but I hadn’t checked his jacket. The phone would be there or under him.
    I wasn’t sure of what to do now—my head was a mess. I had to get out of the house right away. I cleared the call history from my phone and realized anyone looking at the dead man’s phone would see my number. I couldn’t take the risk of being found out. My heartbeat was probably heard over at the fortress, and my hands were shaking hard as I went through the dead man’s pockets. The phone was in his breast pocket, right against his heart. I turned the sound off, then slipped it into my bag. I had to get rid of it as soon as I found out which