Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 138.01

“Excellent, Sergeant.” White dabbed his mouth with a napkin Peters had thoughtfully lifted from the burger van earlier.

“Eggsellent, you mean?” Peters grinned.


“Eggsellent, on account of it being a bacon and egg sandwich.”

“Oh.” White forced a tight smile. “Very droll.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I am impressed at your foresight and ingenuity.” He waved a hand at the camping gear. “I never expected a hot bacon butty out here in the wilds of Laverstone.”

“Salisbury, I think, sir. I think this is the edge of Salisbury plain, isn't it?”

“I bloody hope not. It'd be out of our jurisdiction. We'll call it Laverstone, I think. I know I've seen Hobb's Carn in one of Ms Jones' local history books so it must be in our patch.”

“That's dubious logic, sir. The missus bought one of her pamphlets on gargoyles and she mentions places in Oxfordshire in that one.”

“But I bet it wasn't called 'Gargoyles of Laverstone', was it?”

“I forget to be honest, sir. I'm not much interested in the subject, other than as an example of art history. No crimes committed by gargoyles, are there? Not that we can concern ourselves with, anyway.”

“There was that one artist chappie who encased his victims in concrete and passed them off as sculptures.”

“You're not thinking of a film, are you, sir? That wouldn't work in real life, on account of the concrete being permeable to fluids. You'd see the rot.”

“Yes. Exactly how we caught him.”

“What? You personally, sir? When was this?”

“Oh, years ago. I was just a beat copper then.”

“Ah. Before I was born, probably.”

“Don't be cheeky, sergeant. I can still put you on report, you know.”

“Really, sir? There's more bacon here.”

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