The daggers glinted keenly in the spotlights. Even at that distance the weight of the elegant weapons, gripped in the knight"s gauntlets, was unmistakable. Unquestionably the weapons were real.
And so, Blanc thought, was their implied threat. He had had enough.
“We are the Gendarmerie! You will let that man go and surrender your weapons. Marcel Fournier, you are under arrest. You are, all of you, under arrest.”
GendarmerieAs if Blanc had said the magic word the knight threw one of his daggers.
It lodged in Delvit"s chest. He shouted in pain, spun reaching for the protruding handle, and was hit from behind by a second blade.
In the car, peeking against orders, Jerome saw the assault through the side window. He saw the driver fall into Blanc"s arms. Jerome squealed and dropped down agai
