The room was warm, almost too warm. The heightened adrenaline which had fed the Collier’s late-night picnic had long since given way to a slumbering peacefulness. Through the opening in the living room curtains Lynn’s bleary eyes deciphered a reddish hue scratched across the horizon as night’s deep blanket lifted. Partially cross-legged on the floor, she reluctantly drifted off to a restless sleep. Think. Think hard. Remember. When you last met. He gave you something. A handkerchief! You thought it strange at the time. You told him so. What was his reply? Think. “Truths are easy to understand once discovered; the point is to discover them.”
What did Klaus mean? She awoke. The silence was deafening. Tick-tock, tick-tock, the mantel-clock above the white coal fire marched off time. A half hour had passed. She glanced at Inspector Collier. His head had fallen back against the couch, his mouth agape. A diabolical suction tone accompanied each of his inhalations. Lila, snuggled against his shoulder, emanated a low frequency fluttering sound.
Captain Hall’s good leg, curled under the other, tingled and, setting aside her teacup, she stretched it out and massaged it vigorously. Standing, she quietly slipped out of the room and closed the door.
Ascending the stairs to her bedroom, she imagined what would have filled their dreams. It was obvious to her that Lila and Sandy were deeply in love. More importantly, they were best friends, too. She hesitated at the top of the stairs. Yes, their love is friendship set to music, Handel’s fi...