CRYSTAL RIVER: A 1960s' American Thriller by Gordon John Thomson

Author:Gordon John Thomson [Thomson, Gordon John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-07-20T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Sunday September 27, 1964

The sun had just gone down as Jennifer walked round to the back of the Cruises’ house at Fort Island Gulf Beach. She had got no answer to her patient ringing at the front door, but she could hear the muffled sound of music coming from somewhere at the back so she guessed Matthew Saul was probably sitting out on the patio.

The music became clearer as she followed the narrow brick-tiled path along the side of the house through Elizabeth Cruise’s jungle growth of plants. The sea came into view, a black murmuring ocean set against the faint traces of color left in the western sky. There was no moon, but the house patio lights were on, casting a flickering tracery of palm shadow over the hot sand. An onshore breeze was blowing, gradually dispelling the heat of the afternoon.

Jennifer turned the corner of the house and saw Matthew Saul lying stretched out on a foldout sun lounger. For a moment he looked so still and lifeless lying there that her heart skipped a beat. But then she saw with relief that he was merely engrossed in the music.

Unlikely music for a man like Matthew Saul, though, she thought. Fred Astaire singing Cheek to Cheek. It sounded to Jennifer like the original 1935 recording from the film Top Hat. She had heard that music in this house many times before because Martin Cruise was also an unlikely aficionado of Astaire and Rogers’ movies.

‘Making yourself at home, I see,’ Jennifer said dryly.

Matthew didn’t even turn his head or open his eyes. ‘Wasn’t that the general idea?’

Jennifer realized that he had known she was standing there all the time, even though she’d made virtually no noise coming around the side of the house. ‘Couldn’t you be bothered answering the front doorbell?’ she complained mildly.

Matthew finally turned his head and smiled at her. ‘I guessed if it was you that you would know your way round to the back of the house. And if it was anybody else, I didn’t want to be disturbed anyway.’

Jennifer slumped down in a wickerwork chair beside him. ‘Well, I’ll take that as a compliment, even if it was a back-handed one at best.’ She lifted her face to feel the sea air. ‘So does the house suit you?’

Matthew stretched and sat up on the sun lounger. ‘It’s perfect. Thank you. I haven’t felt this good in weeks.’ The record on the player had come to an end, and Matthew disappeared inside the house briefly to switch it off.

When he reappeared and sat down on the sun lounger again, Jennifer hid her pleasure at his clear gratitude with a non-committal look. ‘I thought staying here would probably do you a lot more good in your condition than that God-awful motel you were in.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m afraid, though, I had to tell your wife where you were...I mean your ex-wife...’ - she corrected herself again hurriedly - ‘...I mean Mrs. Wescomb. What I mean is… Mrs.

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