Chapter 267

‘Hey, you, stop!’ I turned and saw Antoine Marchand charging down the court steps, his face tight with anger. To produce a man-child like Pierre Marchand, he must have had parents who’d spoiled him rotten. It turned out the indulgent parent wasn’t his mother, but his father. An hour earlier, Antoine had burst into the courtroom with an entourage of lawyers. It was absurd overkill for a simple assault case. Thanks to their wrangling and, as Lea whispered to me, a bit of grease on the right palms, Pierre had walked away with barely a slap on the wrist. Antoine wasn’t happy. He wanted me locked up for aggravated assault, criminal damage, resisting arrest and every other offence his legal team could dream up. When the prosecutor let me off with a warning and a fine, Antoine went spare. He was angrier than his son, the one I had actually hit. ‘Don’t you think you should at least apologise?’ Antoine panted as he stopped in front of me. The tailored suit did nothing to hide his bulging midrif