Inspector Pascal Mysteries 1000 #30 Truthfully

 Extracting the truth from Inspector Pascal gets trop complicated!
Episode #30 Truthfully
INSPECTOR PASCAL MYSTERIES 1000
Classic-style short-story adventure-mystery fiction fun for all ages
by T.K. Naliaka for TIPTOPduTOP
©2017-2023

INSPECTOR PASCAL MYSTERIES 1000
 #30 Truthfully
By T.K. Naliaka ©2017
 
   “Sir… Sir, over here!”
   Awkwardly trying to sit up with his hands handcuffed behind him, he called across what appeared to be a small dingy basement to the big, uniformed policeman handcuffed to a water line running across the ceiling and down the wall. “Sergeant Braque!  That strange odor in the dentist’s office... ”
   “… It was knock-out gas!”  Braque was working the cuffs around a loose clip overhead. “Sir, this pipe isn’t attached as well as it looks.  I might be able to…”  He stopped as two men wearing medical masks to hide their faces came down the stairs.
   One held up a silver and gold badge, “Inspector Pascal!” He tossed it aside dismissively. “Exactly what brought you here?”
   Pascal began to get up, but they shoved him back to the floor. “Don’t try anything.”
   The taller of the two pulled a pistol out of his jacket and pointed it at Braque. “Who tipped you to come here?”
   Pascal spoke up quickly. “I am not authorized to inform him as to the details of a case!”
   The tall man kept the pistol pointed at Braque. “So, he’s expendable!”
   Pascal shouted.  “I will not give you any information if you kill him… nothing!”
   The other man chuckled. “I have something here that will make this all a lot easier on everyone.” He stuck his hand inside his coat then pulled it out, “Sodium pentothal.”
   Pascal watched warily as the man showed him the small glass drug bottle.  The tall man left Braque, crouched by his accomplice and took it as the other pulled out a syringe in a sealed sachet.  When Pascal glanced at him, Braque pointedly looked up.
   Pascal took a deep breath, scrambled to his feet and plowed with his shoulder past the smaller man, headed for the stairs.  Tackled, then pinned to the floor under their weight, he was warned. “Don’t fight it, Inspector!”  The voice near his ear purred. “This will make you very comfortable so you can answer our questions.”
Pascal felt the burn of the injection in his arm.  Everything went black.
 
   Braque watched with sick dismay as they shifted Pascal to prop him against the wall.
   “We first have to test him.”
   The tall man leaned over. “What is your name?”
   The hazel eyes stared emptily at him.
   “What is your name?”
   Finally he replied softly, “Pascal.”
   “Correct.  Where are you from?”
   His eyes closed for a moment then opened.
   “Answer me. Where are you from?”
   “de…  la… de… la…” The head rolled slightly,”… France.”
   The other man snorted, “France?  How did you get a job here?”
   Pascal shrugged, “Application.”
   Braque tugged at the cuffs on his wrists as the tall man grumbled. “Just get on with it!”
   The other leaned closer. “Who told you to look here?”  He jostled Pascal. “Who told you to look here?”
   Pascal frowned, perplexed, “Ici ?”
   The man was blank for a moment, then he echoed, “Ee-see?”
   The tall man leaned closer, “Maybe it’s Betsy.  She works in billing!”
   The other insisted, “You mean… Betsy?”
   Pascal’s eyes seemed to gaze about, without actually seeing anything, “Comment?”
   “Did Betsy tell you to look here?’
   “Vous êtes qui?”
   “eh-key?” The small man gasped, “Becky!  It’s not Betsy, it’s Becky.  I knew it!  She was here the week before checking on inventory!”
   Braque stared at the two of them, then at Pascal.
   Pascal frowned, “Qu’est que c’est que ça ? »
   The smaller man blinked. “What?”
   The tall man grabbed Pascal by his jacket lapels and began to shake him. “He’s talking gibberish!”
   Braque shouted. “Leave him alone!”
   He snarled back. “You say another word and you’re dead!”
   Pascal suddenly straightened and pushed against the man, “Laisse-lui!”
   The man gasped. “Leslie!”
   The tall man snarled. “There’s no way Leslie knows anything!  She was in Tortuga!”
   Braque called to them. “You need to know that we have protocols!  When we go out in the field like this, we check in at regular intervals! We’re overdue!  There are police looking for us!”
   “You’re lying!”
   “Ask the inspector, he’ll confirm! Ask him about the codes!”
   “The taller man turned to Pascal. “What about the codes?’
   “Code?”
   “Codes!  Codes!”
   There was a long pause then Pascal muttered, “Quelle code?”
   “He won’t tell you!  He doesn’t trust you!”
   Pascal agreed, “C’est vrai.”
   “We’re not getting anything out of him!”
   “Give him some more; that’ll make him talk!”
   Alarmed, Braque shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that!  You’ll just kill him!”
   The taller man jumped up to yell at Braque, “You!  Shut up!”
   Braque heaved himself up and kicked out with both legs, hitting him center-chest like a mule, launching him to crash against the cement foundation wall.  As the man slid down in a heap on the floor, Braque yanked down sharply, tearing out the corroded screws of the old brackets holding the pipe to the ceiling and smashed the metal pipe straight down on top of the head of the smaller man, knocking him out.
   A trickle of rusty water leaked over the floor as Braque stomped on the loosened section and worked it back and forth until the metal gave way and broke to free his cuffed hands from the pipe.  Two minutes later, after recovering the handcuff keys to transfer the cuffs from them to their captors and half-carrying, half-steering Pascal up the stairs, Braque looked around, recognizing the closed dental office they’d entered to search earlier that afternoon.  He hustled Pascal to their parked vehicle.
 
   Utterly uncomprehending, Pascal sat up and looked around.  He walked unsteadily to the door, then back again to his couch, in his apartment.
   “Good morning, sir!”
   Startled, Pascal spun around as his hand reached for his holster, but his gun wasn’t in it.  He relaxed, relieved, “Sergeant Braque.” Pascal finally asked. “What happened?”
   Braque shrugged. “You told them everything.”
   Pascal slowly sat down to stare dejectedly at the floor.
   Braque handed him a mug of fresh, hot coffee. “No worries, sir.  They can’t speak French.”
                                  By T.K. Naliaka ©2017, all rights reserved