WHISPERS OF THE DEAD by Simon Beckett

Author:Simon Beckett [Beckett, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I showered and changed, then bought a sandwich and ate lunch at the side of the river, watching the tourist-carrying paddleboats churn past. There’s something about water that’s primordially soothing. It seems to touch some deep chord in our subconscious; stir some gene memory of the womb. I breathed in the faintly swampy air, watching a flight of geese heading upriver, and tried to tell myself that I wasn’t bored. Objectively, I knew I shouldn’t take what had happened at the cemetery personally. I’d been caught in Hicks’s crossfire, collateral damage of professional politics that didn’t concern me. I told myself that I shouldn’t regard it as a loss of face.

It didn’t make me feel any better.

After lunch, I wandered aimlessly around the streets, waiting for my phone to ring. It was a long time since I’d been in Knoxville, and the city had changed. The trolley cars were still there, though, and the golden mirror-ball of the Sunsphere remained an unmistakable feature on the skyline.

But I wasn’t in the mood for sightseeing. My phone remained stubbornly silent, a dead weight in my pocket. I was tempted to call Tom, but I knew there was no point. He’d ring me when he could.

It was late afternoon when I finally heard from him. He sounded tired as he apologized for what had happened that morning.

“It’s just Hicks trying to stir up a fuss. I’m going to talk to Dan again tomorrow. Once the dust has settled I’m sure he’ll see sense. There’s no reason why you can’t carry on working with me at the morgue, at least.”

“What are you going to do in the meantime?” I asked. “You can’t manage by yourself. Why don’t you let Paul help?”

“Paul’s out of town today. But I’m sure Summer will lend a hand again.”

“You need to take it easy. Have you seen a doctor yet?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, in a tone of voice that told me I was wasting my breath. “I’m really sorry about this, David, but I’ll sort it out. Just sit tight for now.”

There wasn’t much else I could do. I resolved to try to enjoy the rest of the evening. A little leisure time won’t kill you. The bars and cafés had started filling up, office workers stopping off on their way home. The murmur of laughter and conversation was inviting, and on impulse I stopped at a bar with a wooden terrace overlooking the river. I found a table by the railing and ordered a beer. Enjoying the last of the afternoon sun, I watched the slow-moving Tennessee slide by, invisible currents forming dimples and swirls on the gelid surface.

Gradually, I felt myself begin to relax. By the time I’d finished my beer I couldn’t see any pressing reason to leave, so I asked for the menu. I ordered a plate of seafood linguine and a glass of Californian Zinfandel. Just the one, I vowed, telling myself I should make an early start next day, regardless of whether I was helping Tom or not.

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