Time of Breath by Paul Mannering

Author:Paul Mannering
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: IFWG Publishing International
Published: 2019-09-23T12:37:23+00:00

Chapter 23

“How long has The Shroud been missing?” Drakeforth asked.

“Since Professor Bombilate disappeared,” Eade said.

“Could he have taken it with him?” I asked.

“Yes, perhaps he thought it needed cleaning,” Eade said, with acid in her tone.

“And how long has he been missing?” I asked. Surely at least one of us could act like an adult.

“That would depend on your perception of time,” Drakeforth interrupted.

“No,” I said firmly. “It wouldn’t.”

“A couple of weeks,” Eade said.

“Have the authorities been informed?” I could hear myself asking reasonable questions like a proper adult. I wondered how long I could keep it going.

“Yes,” Eade replied.

“And?”

“They said that Professor Bombilate was quite capable of mak­ing his own decisions and maybe I should give him his space.”

“Really?” my left eyebrow sprang into its customary position of surprise.

“Of course not. They gave me a form to complete and said they would look into it.”

“And did they?”

Eade gave me a concerned look. “Charlotte, are all our conver­sations going to be this tedious?”

“Uhm, no? Forget I mentioned it…” I mumbled.

Drakeforth cleared his throat. “The authorities, in any situation, will do as little as possible. Not, I would add, due to any lack of will on their part. It’s usually something like budget cuts, or resources, or an impossible caseload.”

“Wait,” I said, seizing the opportunity to interrupt. “How do you know the perils of police work?”

“I’ve had my share of involvement with the lawn.”

“You obfuscated your way out of a traffic ticket!”

Drakeforth snorted. “Only because if they had investigated further, certain allegations and cases that remain technically open, would have added to the complexity of the situation. In short, once accused of murder and technically not acquitted, one tends to avoid the lawn.”

“What?” I managed.

“Technically open,” Drakeforth repeated.

“You make it sound like you got off on a technicality,” I frowned.

“Yes, let’s say that’s what happened.” Drakeforth nodded with enthusiasm. “We have more pressing matters. Specifically, a fraud­ulent sheet and a missing informist.”

“Well…we could ask his friends and family where he might have gone.”

“Did Bombilate have friends and family?” Drakeforth asked.

“I never asked,” Eade shrugged.

“You worked with the man,” Drakeforth reminded her.

“I couldn’t pick my colleagues’ friends and families out of a police line-up,” I said.

“Exactly. I worked with Professor Bombilate. I didn’t have to get to know him to do that.”

“You could have been married to him,” Drakeforth muttered.

“We could start with where he lived?” Keeping these two on track was harder than herding cotton balls in a wind tunnel.

“Why not?” Eade smiled coldly at Drakeforth. “I’ll check the records office for his home address.” Eade walked stiffly out of the room, leaving Drakeforth and myself in a chilled silence.

“Would you tell me if you had murdered someone?” I asked

“Probably,” Drakeforth replied. His attention focused on folding the Shroud and returning it to its box.

“You didn’t mention that you were married,” I continued.

“It was annulled.” Drakeforth raised his head and thought for a moment. “At least, I think it was annulled.”

“You’re not sure?” I felt an unpleasant sense of familiarity.

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