The holy Lance - Chapter 5 Part III

Fuck! Fuck! What could he do? His brave facade was crumbling now, his mind racing for some plausible excuse. Opening his mouth, no words came, leaving him doing a rather unattractive impression of a goldfish. He had to say something, and the only thing he could think of was the truth.

Out it tumbled, in more or less the logically correct fashion, Jonathan, the letter, the attack, his rescue (which elicited a derisory snort from Elena), the code, the bank, the box and the card and ring. He lifted his pinkie, showing her the ring, looking, somewhere in those bright eyes for a hint of sympathy and understanding.

He found none, but he did see confusion. She was wondering about his story. It did sound far-fetched, but it could be checked, and checked easily. All it would take was a couple of phone-calls. And there was the ring, it looked familiar.

“Show me the ring” Simon slipped it off his finger where he had grown used to it, and handed it over. The crest was an eagle with a spear in its claws, similar to one she had seen recently, one that was sitting in a plastic bag in her office, one that Dr Fleicher had worn.

“Did this Jonathan ever wear this ring?”

“Not that I remember. He did wear jewelery, but it was more beads and thread bracelets.”

“You see Dr Pelham, Dr Fleicher had exactly the same ring. I didn’t think it important, assumed it was his family crest, but maybe it is. Tell me about your Jonathan. Did he ever mention Dr Fleicher? The museum? Vienna? Austria? Think Dr Pelham, it may be important. Dr Fleicher was murdered and this museum robbed, and I want to find out why.”

Murder, a word Simon liked when applied to pints, but was distinctly less sure about when referring to people. “Murdered?”

“Yes Dr Pelham. Shot through the head. It tends to be fatal”