“Glad to see you’re back safe and sound,” Sergeant Gupta said.
Matt pushed aside the Sergeant’s penlight. “What were you doing with that blasted penlight of yours, checking to see if I’m dead?” he asked with a chuckle. “Give me a hand.”
Two of the constables helped him to his feet but Matt’s apparent weakness obliged them to continue to lend their support. He was surprised by how rubber legged he felt, and he walked a few steps then turned and repeated in the opposite direction with the assistance of the constables. He did this several times before he finally stopped.
Sergeant Gupta had just returned the penlight to his inside jacket pocket when the Deputy Commissioner asked, “Where’s Constable Sutcliffe?”
That question hung heavily on Matt’s heart. He struggled with how to answer Philip. “He’s…he’s…” He drew in a large gulp of air and pushed the constables on either side of him away. When the words finally cascaded uncontrollably out of his mouth, they were boiled in anger and resentment. While his mind was afire, attempting to think through the next best moves in this high-stake game of chess he had been thrust into. “They cut his throat.” He noticed the devastating effects of his words on the countenance and body language of everyone in the room.
Silence fell over the room like a heavy fisherman’s net.
Matt glanced at the bed and then scanned the room. “Where’s Susan and the boy?”
“Don’t be concerned. They’re in the other room,” Sergeant Gupta replied, reaching out reassuringly to touch his arm.
“Earlier, I asked you and Bertie to closet some people in the library. Considering…” he began after a long sigh, “you wouldn’t by any chance know where they are now.”
Sergeant Gupta smiled. “Bertie keeps a good handle on that sort of stuff. I’m sure he knows. Why?”
“See if he can round up Mark Dale and have him brought to me here.”
“Why do you want to talk to Mark Dale?” asked Philip, with a somewhat puzzled expression as he turned to watch Sergeant Gupta leave the room.
Matt turned to face the Deputy Commissioner. “I saw something in there that I hope he can help me with.”
A young constable barged into the room. “Sorry sir!” he said, stopping up short. “The engineers from the nearby army base have arrived, Deputy Commissioner.”
“Don’t just stand there, get them up here!” commanded Philip.
Matt gave Philip an askance look as he watched the constable scurry off.
“Uhm... Engineers?”
Philip’s eyebrows raised and shrugged. “Earlier, Matt, it was touch and go whether we’d reach you in time.” His head and shoulders drooped. “Now…unfortunately, it’s to recover Constable Spencer Sutcliffe’s body.”
A knock at the closed bedroom doors drew Philip’s and Matt’s attention.
“Come in!” Philip yelled out.
When Bertie and Mark Dale appeared, Matt registered the disappointment on Phillip’s face.
“I’d better find out what happened to those engineers,” Phillip mumbled under his breath, leaving and closing the pocket doors behind him.
“Should I…” Bertie said, nodding towards the doors.
“No. Stay,” Matt replied. “This shouldn’t take long.” He scrutinized the chauffeur carefully before beginning. “First off, thank you for your patience in this…complex murder case.”
Mark Dale peered at him through slitted eyes as if he was sizing Matt up. “It has been inconveniencing to say the least.”
“I’m sure it has but, I think you understand,” replied Matt.
“Not really. But go ahead and ask me whatever it is you want to ask.”
“I’m interested in your tattoo,” Matt continued. “May I have a closer look.”
“I guess.” Mark rolled up his sleeve. “It’s the Rod of Asclepius.”
“Actually, it’s not. If it was it would only have one snake. And its never depicted with wings,” replied Matt.
“Then what is it?!” challenged Mark, his eyes glaring at him with a how dare you contradict me attitude.
“Your tattoo with two snakes turned around a wand with wings at the top is called a Caduceus tattoo. It’s often confused with the traditional medical symbol, especially in the States.” Matt stepped back. “You can pull your sleeve down now.”
“So?” said Mark, buttoning his cuff. “Now it’s a crime?”
“Nothing like that at all,” Matt remarked disparagingly with a slight chuckle. “Where did you get it?”
“The tat? Guam, if I remember right. Night out with the guys. More of a dare than anything. Liked it. Anyway, I was four sheets to the wind. Army medical corps thing. The five guys I was with did the same. Why so interested?”
“Is there anyone else who might live locally, here, who has the same tat?”
“Hmm…Let me think.” A large smile began to form on Mark’s face. “Funny you should ask. The only fella I’m thinking of never got along with anyone. Haughty sonofabitch. Thought himself better than everyone. Really bad at his job. And those are kind words. I can assure you. Eventually, he was sacked. What was interesting, though, he wasn’t dishonorably discharged. Should have been. But left with a record clean as a whistle. All we could figure out was that someone with clout pulled strings. Probably his old man. Now that really pissed me and the others off.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“Of course! He took over his old-man’s business locally-Ethan & Son Architects- when he died. Arnold. Now if there was ever a smarmy it’s him. You know the kind of guy who is a know-it-all, the kind you hide from at parties. That was Arnold.” He combed his fingers through his thick hair. “He really hit the jackpot though when he got the job to build this…monstrosity… for Sir Reginald…now that’s a whole different story. Anyway, after that, Arnold’s nose hung out high in the stratosphere. After his old-man’s death, he inherited a fortune. Some people are just plain lucky.”
Or as crooked as hell, Matt thought. He was distracted by commotion in the other room when the pocket-doors slid wide open and the Deputy Commissioner with three men and two women in army fatigues entered carrying equipment. Bringing up the rear were Sergeant Gupta, Constable Josh Wagner, and Bill Peterson with four members of his forensics team. After brief discussions with the Deputy Commissioner, the group disappeared behind the sliding wall in the closet.
The Deputy Commissioner sidled up to Matt, Bertie, and Mark. “Well!” Philip said, in an exhausted tone, “I guess all we can do now is wait.”
Silence became embedded among the four of them, until Bertie ushered Matt aside. “Excuse us for a sec, gents. Need a little chinwag with Matt.”
“I’ll join Susan and the boy in the other room,” Philip said. “Oh! By the way, someone will be up shortly to put a temporary fix in place for that broken window.”
After Philip vacated the room and shut the doors, Matt turned to Bertie and asked, “What’s up Bertie?”
“What do you want me to do?” Mark interrupted and appearing somewhat bewildered.
“Stay put for the moment,” Matt replied, shifting the two of them further away from Mark to keep their conversation as private as possible. “Go on.”
“I…I haven’t been entirely forthcoming with you,” Bertie said.
“In what way?”
“About the going-ons in this place.”
Matt rubbed the slight protrusion on his right arm where the hooded figure had injected something earlier under his skin.