The Immortality Plot

The Immortality Plot - chapter 39

OXFORD, ENGLAND

Rain was sweeping along the tarmac road outside the ‘Royal Oak’ pub in the village of Midlington, near Oxford.

Bob Messenger signalled to the bartender for two more pints of Old Grumbleworzel, a local real ale. He eased himself forward in his wheelchair and picked at a bowl of French fries and pickled onions. His face was still bruised and his nose was in a cast.

Delaney regarded the snacks suspiciously. It had been many years since he had tasted British chips, as they called them, and pickled onions were a taste from the past.

He finished his pint appreciatively. This was one thing the English could be proud of. Real ale in Britain was akin to regional vins du pays in France – full of different local flavors and character.

The barman delivered the pints reverently.

Messenger regarded Delaney curiously. Then both men sank a large quantity of beer in one go.

“So, you made a statement?” Messenger picked up on the story Delaney had been telling.

“Sure did,” said Delaney. “I told everyone everything but, frankly, I don’t know where the investigation is going from here. I’ve finally been wiped off the suspect list,” he paused. “My name just kept on cropping up and each time someone ended up dead.”

“But, you came face to face with him, The Priest I mean?”

“Yes, and I can tell you he is not your usual killer. I fear no man, Bob, but it’s not often I meet my match. I still carry the bruises and he hardly touched me.”

“So, still no idea of his identity, name, background, origin or address?”

“No. I’d say he has central European and Asian blood given the Eurasian appearance. Judging by his fighting style, I’d say South Korea somewhere, or maybe Malaysia. He’s a transvestite and that’s something no one was expecting. And there is still no hard and fast evidence against him, except he is clearly guilty of the murders of Dorsey and Patrick. He’s now high on the FBI’s ‘Most Wanted’ list. They’ll never give up on a cop killer. And he’s chief suspect in the Rattin murder.”

“We’ve been following up on the Renaissance investigation,” said Messenger. “Letski’s helicopter didn’t yield much information. But they have tracked down a web of offshore companies and bank accounts. A few names have been brought under suspicion including that overrated TV host Marcia Daniels. But, so far there have been no arrests.”

“Rich people have rich lawyers,” said Delaney. “That’s just the way of it.”

“The murder weapon?” mused Messenger. “They should have called him The Ice Man. I knew it was possible theoretically but to develop a weapon from a lump of ice is clever, very clever.”

“It’s deeply frozen ice,” said Delaney. “It must be incredibly dense, but, yeah, it’s clever and it’s a weapon he’ll use again. He’s not going to stop, Bob.”

Messenger thought for a moment. “I’m almost too nervous to ask you the obvious.”

Delaney drained his beer then took a long time before answering.

“The DNA test? Yeah, I had it checked out privately and it was the most terrifying wait of my life.”

“And?”

“I would have been a father.”

Both men were silent.

Then Messenger said quietly. “So, you got two results, Mike. In some ways the only results that really matter. You created life and you saved a life. You gave a daughter back to her mother.”

Delaney didn’t reply.

Messenger continued. “And, you did catch a unique serial killer. It’s not your fault he got away. I’ll tell you one thing, my old mate, the story of The Monk and The Priest and the cloning network has entered Internet folklore.”

“But he’s still out there, Bob. And I intend to find him.”

“True, he is out there, but so is The Monk,” smiled Messenger. “You know the Monk can’t stop now, don’t you. You’re in demand, old fellow. So, what are your plans?”

“I’ve sold up, did I tell you? I took the first offer that came along and had the house cleared. I just couldn’t go back.”

“So, what now?”

“I’m not the career type. Guess I’ll just drift for a while and see what turns up. Maybe I’ll travel around for a couple of years.”

“If you’re ever looking for a job?”

“What do you have in mind, Bob?”

“The Monk has scored the highest ratings of every contributor the site. I know you, Mike. You’ll be bored out of your skull in two months.”

“Maybe?”

“So, take on another challenge. Confess-Confess has a shed load of cases to solve, people to help, bad people to catch. You’d be making a positive contribution.”

“Maybe.”

“I can feel a toast coming on.”

Laughing, Delaney collected their pint mugs and went to the bar to order two more pints of ‘Old Grumbleworzel’.

“Hey,” shouted Messenger. “I think I might be getting married.”

Delaney winked at the bartender and ordered a bottle of champagne.

End

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