The smoky haze of the backroom bar clung to Eleanor’s (as Simone Dubois) silk dress, a sharp contrast to the sterile, elegant world she had inhabited only days before. Inspector Davies, a man etched with the weariness of countless Parisian nights, nursed his Pernod, his gaze fixed on a point just beyond her shoulder. The air crackled with unspoken questions, the silence thick with distrust.

She had led him here, to this dimly lit haven tucked away in the Marais district, a place where secrets whispered and deals were struck under the cloak of shadows. It was a gamble, a high-stakes bet on a hunch, on the glint of integrity she’d seen in his eyes during their brief encounter at the art auction. But the clock was ticking. Jean-Luc, still reeling from Simone’s sudden change of character, would be getting suspicious. And Viper… Viper was a predator who wouldn't remain in the shadows forever.

"Inspector," Eleanor began, her voice a deliberate cadence, mimicking Simone’s refined tone while imbuing it with a newfound steel. "I imagine you have questions. Many questions."

Davies finally met her gaze, his eyes like chips of flint. "Madame Dubois, or should I say… whoever you are. You’ve certainly piqued my interest. One moment you're the grieving widow, the next you're a woman with secrets buried deeper than the Catacombs. You've displayed a preternatural talent for gathering information about Jean-Luc's… less than savory activities. Information that frankly, I've been chasing for months, yet you acquire it as if picking flowers in a garden. So, yes, I have questions."

Eleanor took a slow breath. This was it. The moment of truth. She couldn't offer concrete proof, no tangible evidence of the multiverse or the Arbitrator. All she had was her word, and the unsettling truth in her eyes.

"What I am about to tell you will sound…unbelievable," she said, leaning forward. "But I assure you, it is the truth. My name is not actually Simone Dubois. Simone Dubois is dead. I am… a traveler. A… Justice Weaver."

Davies arched a skeptical eyebrow. "A traveler? Are you suggesting you’re a spy? Or perhaps a very elaborate con artist?"

"Neither," Eleanor stated firmly. She hesitated, searching for the right words, the language he might comprehend. "I am from… another place. Another reality. I was sent here to rectify injustice. To avenge Simone's murder. I was given a chance to stop Jean-Luc and expose Viper."

Davies chuckled, a low, disbelieving sound. "Madame, with all due respect, you're either insane, or you're insulting my intelligence."

Eleanor held his gaze, unflinching. "Think about it, Inspector. How else could I have known about Jean-Luc's dealings with Viper? About the forged documents, the offshore accounts, the poisoning scheme? I have knowledge that no one else could possibly possess. Knowledge that should be impossible." She paused, letting her words sink in. "I know Simone Dubois was slowly poisoned over weeks by cyanide slipped into her herbal tea."

Davies’ expression shifted. The amusement vanished, replaced by a flicker of something akin to…unease. He knew those details. They were locked away in the police files, accessible only to a handful of investigators.

"How…?" he whispered, his voice barely audible above the low hum of the bar.

"I told you," Eleanor said softly. "I am a Justice Weaver. My purpose is to mend broken threads. And Simone's thread was brutally severed."

The inspector took a long pull from his Pernod, swirling the milky green liquid in his glass. He studied Eleanor, his gaze intense, trying to decipher the truth behind her words. She could see the battle raging within him: skepticism warring with the undeniable evidence of her knowledge.

Finally, he spoke, his voice carefully measured. "Let's assume, for the sake of argument, that what you're saying is true. Let's assume you are… this Justice Weaver. Why tell me? Why risk revealing yourself to a police officer, who by profession, is sworn to uphold the law, not to indulge in… fantastical claims?"

"Because I need your help," Eleanor admitted. "Jean-Luc is just a pawn in Viper’s game. Viper is the real danger. He's poisoning the city from the inside out. I need your knowledge of the Parisian underworld, your contacts, your experience. I can provide the information, but I need someone on the inside to act on it."

Davies was silent for a moment, clearly contemplating the implications of her request. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, the weariness returning to his features.

"Viper," he muttered. "We've been chasing shadows for years. Whispers, rumors, but nothing concrete. He's like smoke. Always just out of reach."

"I can help you catch him," Eleanor said. "But I need your trust. This… alliance… is a gamble, for both of us. If I’m wrong about you, if you betray me, everything falls apart. Jean-Luc gets away with murder, Viper continues to thrive, and I fail Simone. But if I'm right… we can bring them both down."

Davies stared at her, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the clinking of glasses and the murmurs of conversations around them. Finally, he nodded slowly.

"Alright," he said, his voice gruff. "I'm in. But understand this, Madame… Weaver. If I find out you're playing me, if I find out you're nothing but a delusional fantasist, I will not hesitate to arrest you."

"Fair enough," Eleanor replied, a faint smile playing on her lips. "But I assure you, Inspector. You won't regret this."

The inspector finished his drink and set the glass down with a decisive clink. "So, what do you know about Viper? Give me something I can use. Something that will get us closer than we've ever been before."

Eleanor leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Viper is not just a criminal," she began. "He's a master manipulator. He deals in secrets, in blackmail, in power. He controls a network of informants, corrupt officials, and ruthless enforcers. He launders money through art, real estate, and… casinos."

"Casinos," Davies repeated, his eyes narrowing. "I've heard whispers about that. An exclusive club, hidden beneath a seemingly legitimate business. But I've never been able to pinpoint its location."

"I know where it is," Eleanor said. "It's located beneath the 'Le Chat Noir' cabaret in Montmartre. It operates under the guise of a private poker club for high rollers. Jean-Luc used to frequent it. That's where he met some of Viper's associates."

Davies scribbled furiously in a small notebook. "Le Chat Noir… that could be it. We've had our eye on that place for years, but never had enough to justify a raid."

"Viper uses the casino to launder money from various illicit activities, including arms dealing and human trafficking," Eleanor continued. "He also uses it as a meeting place, a neutral ground for his associates. He'll be there soon."

"How soon?" Davies asked, his voice urgent.

"Tonight," Eleanor said. "He has a meeting scheduled with a potential new client. A powerful arms dealer from Eastern Europe."

Davies closed his notebook with a snap. "Then we don't have much time. I need to assemble a team, get a warrant. This could be our chance to finally bring Viper to justice."

"Be careful, Inspector," Eleanor warned. "Viper is cunning and ruthless. He anticipates every move. He'll have security in place, traps laid. Don't underestimate him."

"I don't intend to," Davies replied, his voice grim. "But with your information… we might just have the element of surprise on our side."

He stood up, his eyes filled with a newfound determination. "Thank you, Madame… Weaver. You've given me hope where there was none. Now, let's see if we can turn this gamble into a victory for justice."

As Davies disappeared into the night, Eleanor felt a surge of adrenaline. The alliance was forged. The gamble was on. She had put her trust in a man she barely knew, a man who represented the very system she was ostensibly working outside of. But she had no other choice. She couldn't bring down Viper alone. She needed someone on the inside, someone who understood the rules of the game.

But even as she felt a flicker of hope, a chilling thought crept into her mind: was she being manipulated? Was Davies truly on her side, or was he just using her to further his own agenda? Could she trust him completely, or was she just another pawn in a larger, more sinister game?

The threads of justice were becoming increasingly tangled, and Eleanor knew that the road ahead would be fraught with danger. She was one step closer to avenging Simone Dubois, one step closer to bringing down Viper, but she was also one step closer to uncovering the dark secrets that lay at the heart of the Justice Weaver’s twisted mandate.