“I can’t be sure in this light, but it looks like from the map the investigating officer found your friend there.”
Both men were silent as they climbed the steep slope. Once at the top, they were surrounded by the formation itself.
“We cannot see without the light,” Harvor observed, stating the obvious. “The rocks will block the natural light until the sun is higher in the sky.”
An event Jason was unsure took place in these latitudes.
“OK, let’s take a look.”
The policeman played the flashlight’s beam across rocks so black Jason guessed the blood from Boris’s wound would be invisible.
“Can you tell from the diagram exactly where in this stone jumble he was found?”
Before Harvor could answer, something twinkled in the light to Jason’s left. “Play the light over there.”
The flashlight’s beam revealed a space between two of the huge rocks, a narrow passage. Just beyond, something sparkled. Jason sucked in his stomach and squeezed through.
From behind him, Harvor protested, “I don’t think I can get through there.”
The portly policeman was right. “Go around that pillar to your right.”
As Harvor came puffing up, his light picked up something shiny.
Jason squatted but did not pick it up. “Looks like a bullet casing. I’d guess nine millimeter.”
Harvor leaned over. “You have experience in such things?”
Jason was turning it over with a ballpoint pen, careful not to touch it. Inside what amounted to a roofless room of stone, the ejected shell could not have gone far. The shot must have been fired within a few feet of here.
He stood, extending he brass shell on the tip of the pen for the policeman’s inspection. “Your investigating officer must have missed it.”
“Or it wasn’t here when he was,” the cop offered defensively.
How many Icelanders own handguns, Jason thought, let alone went about firing them indiscriminately?
But he said, “You might want to keep that in case there are partial prints on it.”
Harvor looked at him suspiciously, his expression now visible in the increasing light. “You did not answer my question, Mr. Peters: You have experience in such things?”
“I watch Law & Order .”
Harvor was clearly making a decision as to whether to let the matter rest as Jason slowly turned around, his eyes searching the stone chamber. Wordlessly, he took the flashlight from the policeman’s hand, shining it across the face of the rock that surrounded them.
There was a noise Jason could not believe he was hearing. It sounded like, but could not be … a cell phone’s beep. Following the persistent chirps, Jason came to a crevice that gave back the light from his flash. In one step, Jason was reaching into it. His groping fingers touched something cold, metal that had absorbed the ambient temperature of the brief night.
His hand closed around it and he drew it out. A cell phone.
He flipped it open. “Yes?”
The reply was both distinctly British and, equally certain, irritated. “See here, Karloff! We are not paying you to ignore our calls. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!”
“I’m sorry,” Jason mumbled, trying to imitate Boris’s voice. “I’ve been busy. I—”
The tone went from annoyed to wary. “You’re not Karloff. Where is he?”
“Er, indisposed at the moment. With whom am I speaking?”
There was a moment of silence before the phone went dead. The tiny screen displayed a number Jason recognized as being somewhere in the British Isles. He committed it to a memory long ago trained to recall names, words, and numbers.
“Who was that?” Harvor demanded.
“Someone who clearly didn’t want to speak with me.”
“He gave no name?”
“That is correct.”
Harvor reached for the phone. “We can determine the source of the call.”
Reluctantly, Jason handed it over as he stuck his other hand back into the fissure. This time he touched another, much smaller, piece of metal and what his fingers told him
Both men were silent as they climbed the steep slope. Once at the top, they were surrounded by the formation itself.
“We cannot see without the light,” Harvor observed, stating the obvious. “The rocks will block the natural light until the sun is higher in the sky.”
An event Jason was unsure took place in these latitudes.
“OK, let’s take a look.”
The policeman played the flashlight’s beam across rocks so black Jason guessed the blood from Boris’s wound would be invisible.
“Can you tell from the diagram exactly where in this stone jumble he was found?”
Before Harvor could answer, something twinkled in the light to Jason’s left. “Play the light over there.”
The flashlight’s beam revealed a space between two of the huge rocks, a narrow passage. Just beyond, something sparkled. Jason sucked in his stomach and squeezed through.
From behind him, Harvor protested, “I don’t think I can get through there.”
The portly policeman was right. “Go around that pillar to your right.”
As Harvor came puffing up, his light picked up something shiny.
Jason squatted but did not pick it up. “Looks like a bullet casing. I’d guess nine millimeter.”
Harvor leaned over. “You have experience in such things?”
Jason was turning it over with a ballpoint pen, careful not to touch it. Inside what amounted to a roofless room of stone, the ejected shell could not have gone far. The shot must have been fired within a few feet of here.
He stood, extending he brass shell on the tip of the pen for the policeman’s inspection. “Your investigating officer must have missed it.”
“Or it wasn’t here when he was,” the cop offered defensively.
How many Icelanders own handguns, Jason thought, let alone went about firing them indiscriminately?
But he said, “You might want to keep that in case there are partial prints on it.”
Harvor looked at him suspiciously, his expression now visible in the increasing light. “You did not answer my question, Mr. Peters: You have experience in such things?”
“I watch Law & Order .”
Harvor was clearly making a decision as to whether to let the matter rest as Jason slowly turned around, his eyes searching the stone chamber. Wordlessly, he took the flashlight from the policeman’s hand, shining it across the face of the rock that surrounded them.
There was a noise Jason could not believe he was hearing. It sounded like, but could not be … a cell phone’s beep. Following the persistent chirps, Jason came to a crevice that gave back the light from his flash. In one step, Jason was reaching into it. His groping fingers touched something cold, metal that had absorbed the ambient temperature of the brief night.
His hand closed around it and he drew it out. A cell phone.
He flipped it open. “Yes?”
The reply was both distinctly British and, equally certain, irritated. “See here, Karloff! We are not paying you to ignore our calls. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!”
“I’m sorry,” Jason mumbled, trying to imitate Boris’s voice. “I’ve been busy. I—”
The tone went from annoyed to wary. “You’re not Karloff. Where is he?”
“Er, indisposed at the moment. With whom am I speaking?”
There was a moment of silence before the phone went dead. The tiny screen displayed a number Jason recognized as being somewhere in the British Isles. He committed it to a memory long ago trained to recall names, words, and numbers.
“Who was that?” Harvor demanded.
“Someone who clearly didn’t want to speak with me.”
“He gave no name?”
“That is correct.”
Harvor reached for the phone. “We can determine the source of the call.”
Reluctantly, Jason handed it over as he stuck his other hand back into the fissure. This time he touched another, much smaller, piece of metal and what his fingers told him
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