The Jar of Nephren-Ka

Randolph

New Orleans, Louisiana: 12:33 PM, Thursday, June 7th, 1984

When I pulled into the CPS lot, Rufus was sitting on the edge of the loading dock, eating a sandwich.

"Welcome back, brother man. How goes the struggle?" he said.

"Another day, another headache," I said.

He grinned and took a big bite of his sandwich.

I entered the building and went directly up to the second floor. I approached Sherelle and asked if Coventry was available. She looked at a planner on her desk, then informed me he was in a meeting that was due to end at any time. I nodded and walked over to the edge of the room and peered out at the factory floor, watching Ms. Sani and her minions categorize ancient artifacts from... wherever.

About 15 minutes later, a door opened down the hall, and a middle-aged, thin white man in a pinstripe suit walked out, nose so high in the air he was liable to drown if it rained. He passed me without a glance and made his way to the stairs. I strolled back towards Sherelle's desk.

She was on the phone, speaking quietly, and looked up at me as I approached. She set the phone back in the cradle.

"Lord Coventry will see you now."

I made my way back to Coventry's office. Barnes opened the door for me, then took his usual position outside and shut the door behind me.

"Mr. Parata, I do hope you have some good news to impart," Coventry said, leaning back in his chair, a genial smile plastered on his face.

I moved forward and took a seat in one of the chairs. It was surprisingly comfortable.

"Not so much. I think I found Kinsey," I said.

"Splendid!" Coventry exclaimed. "How is this not good news?"

"I think something happened to him."

"Oh? What happened to him?" Coventry asked, a look of concern on his face.

"I'm not entirely sure, but if I had to guess? Something loud and fatal."

Coventry blanched, color draining from his face and eyes widening until the whites were visible all around.

"Perhaps you had better start from the beginning," he said, recovering composure and sitting more upright in his chair.

"I found the cabbie that picked him up the night of the theft. He took me to Kinsey's drop point, and I broke in. I found an old abandoned house with a bed soaked in blood, and Kinsey's diary in a nightstand. The diary confirms the theft, and all signs point to Kinsey being murdered in the house. The Jar was nowhere to be found."

Coventry chewed on this for a bit, then asked: "No body?"

I studied him. No dilation of the pupils, no deviation in his gaze, no fidgeting. His mannerisms said to me he wasn't being deceptive; this was all new information to him.

"No," I said. "Worse, the house is terribly old. The floors were covered in dust, and there was only one set of prints in the dust. I have no idea how the body was removed."

"Are you sure there was a murder, or that it was Kinsey?"

"No," I said. "But whoever bled on that bed, they have exited the land of the living. I'd bet my license on it."

Coventry leaned back in his chair, absorbed in thought.

"Other than the cab ride, why are you so sure this blood is Kinsey's?"