Paint the Town Red (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book II)

In All Directions

Imogen walked Dr. Nenadovich back to the dig.

"Well, that was absolutely marvellous," the woman announced mid-way, rubbing her elegant hands. "I think we have sufficiently rattled the man. You should come more often. You seem to have the natural talent for Oakby handling."

Imogen barked a surprised laugh.

"I'd say you've done all the work, Doctor," she answered.

"Something tells me the Titan doesn't approve of you - and you don't seem to care. That adds so much fun into torturing him." The archeologist stuffed her hands into the pockets of her wide linen trousers. She gave Imogen a pleased look over. "So, what's happening with those two murders? How's your sleuthing going?"

"Sleuthing?" Imogen's eyebrows jumped up. "I'm not doing any sleuthing."

"No? Well, that's disappointing. Didn't you solve the murders of those teachers in the Comprehensive?" 

Dr. Nenadovich indeed sounded disappointed.

"That was a... coincidence," Imogen mumbled. "I just sort of ended up in the middle of it, and then Mr. Oakby's sister got poisoned--"

"Ah, yes, Deidre Dyre, née Oakby, the Headmistress." The archeologist wrinkled her nose. "Never liked the woman. She's so... proper. I prefer people who wear their imperfections proudly on display. But again, what would expect from the daughter of that man?"

Dr. Nenadovich looked up and squinted in the sunlight.

"I think we should look into these murders, Ms. Fox," she suddenly announced, and Imogen lost her footing.

"Pardon?"

"I have the insight into this... community, and you have the experience. We'll make a perfect team! I'll be your Watson!" the woman exclaimed, her eyes shiny and merry. "You're surely clever enough to be Sherlock, and I'll 'ah' and 'oh' appropriately admiring your acumen. What say you?"

Imogen opened and closed her mouth couple times, not at all sure what 'say she.'

"Oh c'mon, we can do it! How about I organise the dinner between yourself and some of them Serbians?" Dr. Nenadovich apparently didn't require Imogen's agreement to start implementing her 'Conan Doylian' plan. Although this plan was more of a Agatha Christie's Sparling Cyanide- esque in spirit. "They will love having dinner with someone from the Town Hall! And someone so close to the Mayor! No innuendos intended," she noted and even shook her finger in the air. "None of my business it is."

That's a refreshing attitude, Imogen thought.

"So, is the game afoot, my friend?" the archaeologist asked in a funny nasal voice.

"Sure, sure," Imogen agreed.

One ickle investigation attempt couldn't harm anyone, could it? And again, maybe the dinner wouldn't even take place. Surely, Dr. Nenadovich had more important things to take care of.

***

Imogen returned to the Town Hall and found the Mayor absent. She then remembered he was at the meeting of the All Saint parish council.

She took her chair and turned on her computer, and yet her thoughts wandered, away from the sewerage repair quotas she was supposed to review. It seemed everyone around her had a plan for what the Imogen in their mind had to do with her life: to become a full-time artist, or a part-time sleuth - or date the Mayor more diligently. Imogen looked at her reflection in the screen that had apparently gone dark while she stared at it pointlessly.