The Night of the Wolf by Paul Halter

Author:Paul Halter [Halter, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Locked Room International
Published: 2013-12-17T00:00:00+00:00

The American stopped his narrative, lit a cigar languidly, looked calmly at his drinking companion, and asked:

“So, Mr. Burns, what do you think?”

“The affair seems quite clear to me as far as – ”

“Excuse me?” spluttered the American, eyes wide in amazement. “Do you mean to say you can explain the vision in rational terms?”

“Yes. Or at least in terms more rational than in your account, remarkably accurate though it was. But am I right in assuming you yourself were directly involved in this affair as a witness? You might even be little Jonathan, judging by your apparent age. For that matter, my dear sir, we don’t actually know your name.”

The American nodded his head and, smilingly, admitted:

“You’re quite right, I am in fact Jonathan Friedman. No doubt I was too young at the time to be deeply marked by what happened, but I was affected by the events nevertheless… That damning ‘vision’ has remained a mystery to me ever since, which is why I have difficulty believing what you say. Sincerely, if you can truly explain what happened, I am prepared to give you – ”

Owen raised a hand magnanimously.

“No, I don’t want anything, my dear fellow. I am an aesthete: I only work for the love of my art. But for now, I will hand things over to my friend Achilles Stock. Like you, he is a man accustomed to the open sky and wide open spaces. He was brought up in South Africa. His is a sound mind in a sound body, and he should thus be expected to come to the same conclusions as myself.”

I took up the thread, clearing my throat while secretly cursing my friend. I was convinced he was bluffing and playing for time, for this puzzle appeared to be completely insoluble. I attempted to follow to the letter those methods of reasoning that he claimed were so dear to him.

“There are two possibilities and only two,” I started, somewhat pedantically. “The first possibility is that it was a genuine premonition. If that is indeed the case, there is nothing further to add. The second possibility assumes the complicity of Marcus Drake, however honorable he may appear to be. It has to be one or the other, there’s no getting away from it. If Drake is guilty, he could have acted with an accomplice and hired a contract killer to take care of matters while he acted out his little game.”

“No, Achilles,” interrupted Owen, in a professorial tone. “Our friend pointed out quite rightly that such behavior would have been completely out of character for a bank employee. He would have attracted all kinds of suspicion. In those days, that meant being hung high and dry. It would have been much too risky.”

“Do you know what happened to the fellow?” I asked Jonathan Friedman. “Didn’t he try to woo your mother afterwards?”

The American shook his head.

“No. We never saw him again. My mother did remarry shortly afterwards, but not to him. The sheriff handed in his badge in order to devote himself entirely to ensuring her happiness.

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