Red Tiger Hunting (John Griffin Post Great War Mysteries Book 1) by Alexander Juden

Author:Alexander Juden [Juden, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798986790503
Publisher: 5Points Press
Published: 2022-11-17T16:00:00+00:00

We decided to do the shopping first, our thinking being that if we carried packages, we’d look more local and less like two peeping Toms as we walked past the house on rue de Babylone. After much asking and getting lost a few times, we found an amurerie, a fancy gun store on rue de Richelieu. The old gent running it sold us some gun-cleaning supplies and was perfectly happy to take our money. We also found a hardware store and got a short crowbar, bolt cutters, and some wire. I bought a few heavy nails as well. We then circled back toward rue de Babylone, walking the block around the house but finding no other obvious entrances. It appeared that the various apartments were built against each other, and only number 28 stood unattached in its surrounding, overgrown garden. We would have to overcome the complexities of French architecture once we were inside the house.

After our recce, we stopped for lunch at a café a short walk from our hotel. We sat and waited patiently for the waiter, who would arrive eventually. We were in no hurry. We wouldn’t meet the girls at Le Dôme for another three hours.

“I’m worried about the fire spreading,” I said to Mitchell in a hushed voice. “The buildings are packed in tight, and if we really want to destroy their supplies, we’re going to have to burn it down completely.”

“Buildings get destroyed in war, Griffin. Civilian casualties happen in war. You’re going to have to accept that until we put a halt to Gavin’s plan, you’re in a war again. I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it, but it’s just the way it is,” Mitchell assured me.

“That’s fair, but maybe we could get someone to alert the Paris Fire Brigade. We’d have to synchronize the timing. Too soon, they keep the building from burning, too late and half of Paris goes up,” I said.

“The French firemen are good,” Mitchell noted. “Kiki told me the Pompiers did a fine job controlling the fires caused by Big Bertha’s shelling of the city. You don’t want to give them too much time. It would help if we brought some gasoline or something to really get the flames going before anyone shows up.”

The waiter sauntered up, and we each ordered beers and duck foie gras and toast.

“I have no desire to carry gas cans across Paris. The gendarmes may be few and far between, but they’re not that few,” I said.

“Well, we can’t exactly build a fire that will quickly destroy that house without some help.”

I snapped my fingers. “I’ve got it, my friend,” I said with a smile. “We get us six or so bottles of absinthe, and we use that to get the fire going.”

Mitchell looked horrified. “Oh my God. You will not waste perfectly good absinthe on a house fire. I forbid it,” Mitchell cried. “Plus it’s no different from gasoline. It’s still illegal!”

“I am afraid that there are casualties in war.

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