The Ilium Obligation (A Matt Savage Adventure) Chapter 21

[seymoure]

Hey Cousin

 

“The family is a haven in a heartless world.” 

-Christopher Lasch

 

Rayleen had her arm around Gerald’s shoulder, and he looked as though he could use the comforting.

He was a small man whose glasses had been broken, and much of his spirit had gone the same way.

Hugo slipped into the driver’s seat, and I got in the other side and turned to our comrade sitting in the rear.

“The sergeant is now on the floor in there. I doubt if he’ll ever hit anybody again without thinking about you,” I told him.

“Did you…” Gerald began.

“Not me; Hugo!” I said.

Hugo snorted and sat a little taller in the seat. Gerald’s smile was not large, but it was good to see.

Then he remembered something.

“My cousin called me,” he started. “She had news from the N.S.A. offices . . . “

“I know, the scientist who identified the wood has disappeared,” I said.

“But I know something no one else does,” he said. “She saw something that she didn’t tell anyone else.”

I turned a little more and asked, “Yes?”

“She saw who took him,” he revealed, with a bit of pride. “She’s drawn a picture of him. It should reach me in the morning.”

“Wow!” I sat back. “That is great.” 

“And,” he added, “he’s British. She heard them talking.”

Since the local cops weren’t going to help, I was going to have to talk to my only contact at the FBI. I would have called Scotland Yard, but. . .

I knew that they had some books of known criminals, so perhaps I could send a copy of the picture and have them match it up with English crooks.

Of course, he might have been putting on the accent to throw any witnesses off, but probably not.

Since they didn’t know anyone was listening that wasn’t very likely.

Of course there was also a chance that this guy didn’t have a record. We were dealing with a lot of folks who were not your typical criminal types.

Whatever was going on, I hoped to get at least something figured out before even more of the twists and turns in this case came cropping up.

It really was like Morton’s Salt.

© C. Wayne Owens
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