Montparnasse Gun Store

The Montparnasse Gun Store aka DOCKARMY is one of the locations you can investigate during The Judge case. Here you meet Madame Brochant. You can gain access by analysing the Picture of Crime Scene 4 given to you by Busset.

It appears to be located on the above the middle of the map.



Transcript
From outside, the Montparnasse gun store looks like any other shop: a plain, discrete front windows, sliding doors. But inside they sell handguns, machine guns, knives and even grenades. It's your first time here but you've already had its owner in your cab. The store opens really early so that patrons can come train at the shooting range. As you walk up to the counter, you hear the distant noise of gunshots under your feet. It's an unsettling experience.

MADAME BROCHANT: "Can I help you?"

It's the owner speaking: an older woman with a hunched back. She's been selling weapons since the 70s. She's cheeky in a typically Parisian way and her wrinkles carve craters across her face.

MADAME BROCHANT: "Aaaah... It's you... It's been ages. Come closer."

You make small talk and eventually decide to go for it.

HOUSSINE: "I have a question for you. About a weapon..."

You slide the photo of a shell across the counter. She looks slowly up at you.

MADAME BROCHANT: "Where's the photo from?"

She's been doing this for years and you doubt you can pull one over on her.

« The cops. »   « I took it. »   « A photographer friend. »   « I found it on the ground. »

TBA

TBA

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See below...

MADAME BROCHANT: "Yeah right... Get the fuck out of here."

You recoil at the bitterness in her voice.

HOUSSINE: "Listen, I'm just looking for more information about this shell..."

MADAME BROCHANT: "I don't talk to filthy liars like you. Get. Out."

She points to the door.

« The police gave it to me. »   « It's the truth, I swear. »

See below...

TBA

MADAME BROCHANT: "Yeah, and just how did you end up with police photos?"

« I'm helping them out. »   « I'm a cop now. »   « I'm a private investigator now. »

TBA

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See below...

MADAME BROCHANT: "On top of driving a cab?"

She cocks her head toward the outside.

MADAME BROCHANT: "Although, with the... uh... disruptive economy we're living in... it's not surprising you have to work two jobs. Give that to me."

She practically rips the photo out of your hands. You give her as many details as you can. She thinks for a while. The shop doors open and a woman -- probably a cop from her appearance -- comes in, greets the owner and disappears downstairs. When she opens the door, it creaks and the smell of gunpowder spreads through the shop.

MADAME BROCHANT: "It's funny. This doesn't fit with what you told me. The shell is in perfect shape... and you told me the bullets are also completely clean. But it's old ammo. You can tell. There are no scratches but there are a few oxidisation stains and..."

Her voice grows darker all of a sudden... like something had escaped from her.

MADAME BROCHANT: "In my opinion, it's from an old weapon... perfectly maintained... by someone who knew what they were doing. [NEW CLUE] In light of what you told me... I'd say it belonged to a cop or a soldier... It could be a family weapon. It was a police service weapon in the 1970s. Either a cop held on to it or the guy you're looking for inherited it. [NEW CLUE] That... Judge there... he's a pro."

You raise your head to meet her gaze. Her old bones make that slight shift again... the one that could be construed as a smile.

MADAME BROCHANT: "Or she, actually. You know, lots of women shoot. And I give classes if you have any lady friends who are interested."

... Back in your cab. You glance back at the shop. You don't know how this woman knew that... Anyway. You start your taxi. You have what you need to move forward with your investigation. And a coupon for a class on shooting automatic weapons.

