= Wands High =

Chapter 56 - 24 May 1998, Sunday

"The Plucked Broom" was only a few minutes away from the square and still closed though its work hours sign claimed that it was supposed to be open for half an hour already. After several knocks on the front door, a middle-aged woman with rolled up sleeves and a bottle of milk in one hand opened it and looked at them questioningly.

- Yes?

- Good morning, Berta – Chris greeted. – We're looking for Mr. Gruber.

- He's quite busy with cleaning up the mess from last night and frankly, I don't think he's in the mood for chitter-chatter, boys – Berta said with a slight frown.

- We won't keep him away from his work, I promise. See, we were here last night and a friend of ours got hurt in the moshpit...

- What? It's all right, Berta, I can spare few minutes to talk with the boys – the owner of "The Plucked Broom" appeared from the small adjacent barn, wiping his hands in his apron. He was seemingly few years younger than the woman, mid-height and surprisingly tanned for the cool climate of the resort village. His greenish eyes flashed with sudden worry when he asked: - Is your friend all right?

- Yes, he got away with a mild concussion – said Chris. – That's not exactly what we came to talk to you about...

- Have you spoken to the Patrol about that?

- No, not about that – Chris exchanged puzzled looks with James before continuing: - Listen, Mr. Gruber, we're not trying to stir up trouble or anything. We were just hoping that you could tell us if that... "concert" last night was supposed to be like that, or there was something else going on. I promise, whatever you tell us stays between us.

The owner seemed hesitant for a moment, but before they could add anything else, he let out a sigh.

- I wasn't trying to hide anything. It's just that... things really got out of control somehow. We agreed on the usual performing deal with those boys from the... whatever they were called. I admit it was very different from the music that you could usually listen to here, but I thought, why not expand the audience a bit more. Next thing I know, Tommy runs in the office shouting that something crazy is going on and before I knew it, the place was full of people I've never even seen before going crazy like hogs during breeding season! I did not sign up for this. We're still cleaning up and... and there were several other people who got hurt. When we're done here I'll go talk to the Constable, but I'm worried rumors will spread.

- People know your reputation, Mr. Gruber, I doubt that one isolated incident will ruin it just like that.

- Did you notice anything suspicious before or after the... show was over? – James asked.

- Honestly, I can't remember – I was out of my skin for almost all night.

- Well, I think we better head back to the resort, you've got enough on your plate right now – Chris said. – Before we go, I don't think we paid for what our bunch had last night...

- Forget it, Christopher – Gruber waved his hand and shook his head. – It's the least I can do to compensate you even partially about that horrible experience. I only wish you'd come to play here again someday. It'll take some serious work to clean that stain...

- Thanks, sir. We'll let you get back to your work. Good luck.

- Yes, I'll need that too – the man nodded grimly and headed back to the barn.

- Well, not much use of that little walk – James said as they were heading back to the road leading to the resort.

- No. But Gruber's story confirms that there's something weird at the bottom of this whole thing, be it even indirectly. Might as well be drugs.