The Daughter Of Dawn

Chapter 7

"Seriously?" was what Felix said as he stared at Clarise and Angela. It was traumatic for him, since he played the killer in the play.

"It's almost like I did it."

"Don't say that in front of him." Dianna pointed at Bernard. A lot had happened in the past three days and there was more to come. She wasn't sure if she could take it . Not anymore.

Felix did not look away from the picture. He was curious and more than that, worried. "But if he strikes again" he said, " it could be anywhere. The Louvre, Orsay, Montmarte, the Pompidou center, anything. "

She had the same concern. But Bernard said that there was security in every room, every floor of every museum in the city. It was true, the police was everywhere she looked. She hoped it would be that simple. It probably was.

"They have it all covered. I'm going to the Louvre."she said, walking away.

"Should I tag along?" He asked her.

"No. I need you to go with Bernard. Help each other out. " For some reason she felt responsible for these two, even though she needed them more. She was scared out of her wits and she could tell by the way Felix was looking at the photographs that he was too.

Dianna wasn't the biggest fan of modern art or art, in general. She was a person of words, not of pictures. Every time she was in the Louvre, she was lost, looking at things that made no sense to her. She felt stupid amongst people who acknowledged and admired every piece of artwork. The one painting that broke her heart was the Mona Lisa. It was way smaller than she had imagined as a child. She had read in 'the Da Vinci Code' that The Mona Lisa was actually a fusion of a male and a female. She didn't know if that was true. Also, she didn't want to ask anyone if the world's most famous painting depicted transexuality.

She stood in front of the 77cm × 53cm painting. Bernard stood behind her, looking at her and then at the painting.

"You don't like it, do you? "

Huh. He guessed. "I just don't see the big deal about it. "

He was now standing next to her, their shoulders touching. "The way I see it, she's a conundrum. Why do you think she's smiling slyly? She has secrets. Deep, dark secrets, just like you. It makes you wonder what lies behind the picture. You just want to figure her out. "

The intensity with which he said it made her nervous. She knew he wasn't really talking about the painting. And she liked that. Suddenly, due to the feelings against their mutual target, they had started to enjoy each other's company.

But they didn't forget why they were there. Bernard and Felix left and Dianna was alone again.

She went up and down the museum, looking at faces instead of paintings, hoping she would see a familiar face and recognise it. She was out of luck. She didn't see anyone. There were plenty of cops in every corner. Maybe the killer wasn't in Louvre.

after roaming around for almost an hour , she came back to the same room. On the opposite wall of the Mona Lisa was The Wedding Feast Of Cana, where Jesus turns water into wine.

Her heart skipped a beat, not because of the painting, but the message scribbled above it .

" Be blessed, Aurora. "

How? There were people in the room, cops out front! How?

People crowded around, taking pictures of the message which seemed to be written with red paint, possibly blood. Dianna was pushed back, and she didn't even notice.

An officer came running in. "Captain, do you copy? There's been an incident in the Louvre. The kil......"

He was interupted by some disturbance followed by a deep voice. It was Bernard. He sounded enraged.

"The killer's in Montmarte. The girl's still breathing, I need a paramedic on the second floor and call an ambulance. And lock gates, nobody goes out!"

All she could say was, well, nothing. She stared at the wall. They were looking for Aurora. She was not scared. She wasn't confused. Suddenly, she was straight up pissed. She was unimaginably pissed.

She deserved better. So did 'Aurora'. Two girls had died on her watch, and the third one was close. She was blaming herself for it. And she did not like taking the blame.

Whoever was doing this, probably didn't know her. They'd get to know real soon.