Reluctantly, the young man approaches the crow that had formed on the outskirts of security cordon.
Two people standing there were arguing and they must have said something that shocked the Squirrel, since he suddenly grew pale and turned around.
Capestan waited for him to return to the corner of the boulevard so that she could reach him without drawing the attention of the police officers on guard duty.
He came up to him, (nervously pulling/fidgeting) the strap of the green helmet still tied under his chin.
He was getting about to iron his sweatshirt and leave when Capestan stepped in and discreetly showed him his police (card/identification).
The (captain/lieutenant) saw his hazel eyes widen.
The young man froze for a second, and then dashed off onto the boulevard, (leaving his sweatshirt and his bicycle behind/abandoning his sweatshirt and his bicycle).
Startled, Capestan hastily put her card back into the pocket of her trenchcoat and got into his pursuit.
As she passed the brasserie, she felt Torrez catching up with her on her left wing.
The boy was young, light and fast.
He went onto the boulevard downhill and reached the intersection with Saint-Denis street in a few seconds.
On the crosswalk, the traffic light went from red to green.
As the cars were starting up, the Squirrel leaped in order to cross.
A screech of tires and a concert of klaxons (burst/broke out).
The drivers rushed forward behind him as he advanced, making the engines wail in anger, preventing Capestan from crossing in her turn.
She was stuck on the other side, (hopping/passing/stepping) from one foot to the other and keeping an eye out for a breach in (the) traffic, but it was impossible to move forward.
From afar, through the (torrent/tide/wave) of cars, she saw the boy go across Saint-Denis street.
A group of four teenagers appeared at the same time, briefly obstructing her view.
When they moved away, the boy (had disappeared/was gone).
Capestan jumped where she was in order to make him out in the crowd.
He could not have vanished just like that.
Naulin had seen him at Marie Sauzelle’s house, and he was often spotted in front of Maëlle Guénan’s apartment.
Just as the sailor’s petition, this young man provided the link.
The squad had a new piece of string linking the cases, except that this one could speak.
You just had to question him to finally get an explanation.
It was inconceivable that, after barely getting hold of him, he had already escaped from them.
The traffic light would not turn red.
Capestan tried to take a step forward.
A Chevrolet brushed past her, forcing her back quickly into the sidewalk.
The Squirrel must be getting a headstart.
In an impulsive act, as a car accelerated, Capestan forced her way across the boulevard.
Behind her, she heard Torrez’s anguished voice shouting at the top of his lungs ‘No!’, but she managed to make it to the middle of the boulevard.
Pulling her hand out to slow down the approaching vehicles, she crossed the last section of the road and jumped onto the sidewalk.
A hundred meters further, she spotted the green helmet speeding away.
Pursuing his race, the boy turned his head for an instant and noticed Capestan getting closer.
He zigzagged between the bystanders and turned left into the Lemoine crossing.
Again, she lost sight of him.
She mustered her sprint (stocks/reserves/reservoirs) to reach the passage before he went out of it, and got to the corner just in time to see him head right onto the Sébastopol boulevard.
Throwing herself to his pursuit, she ran into two jeans sellers that were smoking their cigarettes on the sidewalk.
Who was this boy?
What was he doing there?
He had just gone across the Sébastopol boulevard (at the height of/near) Tracy street when a woman unhooked her bicycle from the Vélib post.
Backing up without warning, she threw out of balance the young man, who came hurtling at full speed.
Capestan was worried that he would use the occasion to take possession of the bicycle and escape from her once and for all, but he did not.
On the contrary, he made an abrupt detour to avoid her, which allowed Capestan to regain a few meters.
Her lungs were beginning to burn and she wondered how long she would still be able to resist.
In front, her target took her race up again without suffering the (least/smallest) sign of fatigue.
Twenty years younger.
More kilometers in reserve.
Capestan had to find a means of accelerating and catching up with him quickly: (just) running after him, she would never be able to get him.