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Chapter 9: Nightfall - Part 2

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Gary's ear hurt, he realised he was pressing the phone against it. 

Ike sniggered. "Ah, very observant of you. Yes, there are doubts whether this was a natural death. It's not clear yet. Problem is, I saw nothing. I stayed with the main group. I had to make sure they were okay, see? People aren't happy about the way those academics were carrying on, and I was happy to let them explore on their own."

"So, what you're saying is, one of them bashed Friars's skull in?"

"That's the most likely scenario, I'm afraid. I think none of the others ever got to that part of the reservoir. The only problem is . . ."

"Yes?"

"I found a business card on the professor. Written with a quill in a funny old fashioned-script. It read 'For Mary'."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"No idea. The police have already established it wasn't the professor's handwriting. They will question everybody at ten sharp this evening."

"Oh, bloody hell!"

"Hey, you know swear words after all? Amazing. Look at the bright side, at least they're not messing with the programme."

"Jessica, this isn't remotely funny."

Her voice turned sober. "No. Not at all. Brigitte has given me a sleeping tablet. I don't think I could get any shut-eye tonight otherwise. That cavern was beyond creepy. And finding that guy was . . ."

Her voice hitched, betraying the inner turmoil that had to be hiding under the flippant tone. Gary pictured her slumped in a chair, the mop of honey-blond hair falling into her eyes, her tall figure sprawling over the seat and armrests like a stranded starfish. Suddenly, he felt like reaching out and patting her on the shoulder. Yes, this was a horrid, horrid incident and it might send the company into a spin. But what a shock to stumble over a corpse in the dark. That experience would likely have freaked him out as well, to use Jessica's expression.

Gratefulness softened his voice. Gratefulness for the talk that had helped him back on a mental terra firma.

"I'm sorry you had to suffer through that experience. Nobody could foresee it could come to that. I can only hope the local cops will not make matters worse than they already are. Are they competent?"

"Sort of. The Kommissar wasn't happy I was keeping him from his dinner, but then I also missed my Schnitzel. Not that I could have eaten it, but still. I would reckon he's keen on a quick closure. That might, or might not be a good thing."

"Right. You take that tablet, and I see what I can do at my end."

"You do that. Toodle-pip, old bean," Ike said and disconnected.

The urge to strangle the woman was back. That expression had gone out of fashion when his grandfather was in leading reins.

Jon's cheerful voice bounced towards him. "We need Sprite for me and this funny French fizzy water for you. Can I have some Coke as well? Otherwise, there's neither soap, shampoo, shaving cream nor deodorant. And hey, I even went into the utility room. Am I good or what? We're plain out of washing powder, dishwashing liquid and that stuff for the floors."

Still caught in the call with Jessica and her alarming news, Gary felt disoriented. Then his inner GPS found his location. At home, without provisions but with a hungry son.

He checked his watch. Almost half past seven. The person he needed to talk to would most likely be in the pub. Which was a good thing as he could feed Jon and set wheels in motion at the same time He refused to give up just yet.

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by Lina Hansen
@lhansenauthor
Jessica "Ike" Wordsworth can dive into books, but she isn't prepared...
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