Storyteller - Colin & Anne Brookfield (ebook and pdf reader .txt) 📗

to the room, he decided on a quick survey around the empty building, but in doing so he discovered several human bones that had obviously been scattered by predators.

“So there you are at last, poor Kgosi,” he whispered reverently.

They drove back to the hunting lodge, and the following day after a good night’s sleep in proper beds and a breakfast that the ladies didn’t have to cook, they linked up with the pilot.

The man was not pleased having to arrange a new flight plan that included a stop off at Gaborone airport. He was also requested to arrange by radio, for the police and Janet Meyer’s parents to meet them at the airport.

“Tell them we have a murder to report that should get their attention,” Philip added.

After that, the pilot was quite chatty and wanted to know the full murder story.

“Everything will be in the papers in a few days,” said Philip, “the police must hear the details before anyone else or we will be in trouble.”

It wasn’t until they finally disembarked at Gaborone that they discovered just how leaky, aircraft radio transmissions can be. Not only were the police there in force, so were all the national newspaper reporters.

“Mmegi national paper,” shouted one of them as his camera flashed in front of them, but he got no further, as the police brushed him and the others aside.

It was almost a relief when they were finally whisked away to police headquarters. Janet’s parents were already there in the debriefing room with their attorney.

The moment had arrived that Philip had been waiting for. He removed his back-pack and sprang his surprise. Withdrawing a heavy parcel, he placed it in front of Janet’s parents – it made a sound like a bag of small marbles.

“It can’t be!” cried Janet’s mother burying her face in her hands.

“I’ll take possession of these,” said the Meyer’s attorney and then made a phone call for a diamond assessor to be present.

Philip, Elizabeth and Janet were taken off to separate rooms for debriefing; the crime scene pictures had already been developed from his camera.

The Police were most reluctant to accept the paranormal accounts of their story, although as Philip said later, when the three of them were interviewed on national radio, “Our case for the reality of the paranormal stands on its own merits. If you take the discarnate entity of our case out of the equation, then we would have had to be complicit in the whole murder and diamond thing from the very beginning. That is out of the question! People need to wake up. Debunkers of the paranormal are people out of their depths, because they have no paranormal abilities themselves – the play-it-safe followers of conventional hearsay.”

“Ahem,” interrupted the interviewer uncomfortably, “this does sound rather elitist.”

“Are we shooting the messenger?” replied Philip with a smile.

“We must move on,” said the interviewer hurriedly. “What are you going to do with the reward? I believe it is ten thousand pounds Sterling.”

“It will defray the expenses of our adventure,” interjected Elizabeth quickly, before Philip could say anything else that would annoy the presenter. “The money will also allow us to return to your beautiful country many more times.”

When the interview was finished, Philip and Elizabeth said farewell to Janet; she had decided to move in with her parents, and remain to help rebuild their business, now that the diamonds were back. The search was also underway for Festog, now that the police had his gun and fingerprints, so he had little hope of escaping justice.

Janet’s parents arrived at the airport later, as Philip and Elizabeth awaited their flight back to England.

“Have a safe journey,” said Mr Meyer. “There are no words that could adequately express the service you have done us. There will always be a room set aside for you in our house, After all, we are now family. We wish you well in your future and in your adventures.”

“Oh indeed, there will be plenty more adventures,” they both shouted as they disappeared through Passport Control.”

 

* Clairvoyance – to see clearly

** Clairsentience – to feel clearly

Digital Revelation

Geoff had been asked by his Section Head to deliver some official documents to his private address. This was unusual because the Secret Service were normally very stringent about keeping their documents in-house.

“Thank you for coming,” said his boss. “Step in and have a drink. Malt whisky okay?”

“That’ll be fine.”

His boss quickly steered the conversation towards the coming interdepartmental cricket match, which wasn’t really Geoff’s thing. Nevertheless he did his best to look attentive. Unfortunately this was not made any easier by the entrance of his boss’s cat Mervin. Geoff wasn’t very keen on cats, although the antics of this one had all too often been banded about in the department by its proud owner.

As if to prove the point, the animal suddenly leapt on top of a nearby cardboard box. This was followed by a loud clatter as the cat fell through the flimsy lid and into the box which turned upside down.

Geoff’s boss seemed totally oblivious to the noise because he was in full flowing monologue on his views concerning the forthcoming match. Moreover, he was lying well back in his chair with his eyes facing the ceiling. It was the well known style that he always adopted at departmental meetings when proposing his personal certainties, into the ears of the less worthy.

A scraping sound jerked Geoff’s eyes back in the cat’s direction. The upturned box was now wandering around the polished floor and bumping into this and that. Eventually, the nomadic container floundered on through an inner doorway, with several steps leading to a lower floor. In anticipation of what was to follow, Geoff placed a hand over his mouth to prevent an errant laugh escaping.

A screech of despair escaped the box as it bounced down the stairs, discharging something large and fluffy as it did so. Surprisingly, even that, failed to disturb the ongoing dissertation. Then the ‘light relief’ wandered back into the room for what appeared to be a fastidious wash and brush-up. Mervin made a start on his unmentionable dark and mysterious places, which reminded Geoff how lucky he was, for not being a cat. Washing its head with a paw awash with saliva, didn’t improve matters.

Mervin moved into ‘shoulder arms’ mode for tidying up one of his rear legs. The claw digits were next on the list and were spread wide, ready for the pink rasping cleaning equipment to do its work. At that second, a visible tremor had run through Geoff’s body, and he took a quick look to see if it had been noticed. He needn’t have worried. The rambling man’s eyes were still on the ceiling.

What had shaken Geoff were the remnants of green paint visible between the feline’s stretched paw digits. He wasn’t bored anymore; he was back in work mode and studying the man in front of him patiently. At long last his boss reminded himself that employees should be at work in the office and showed Geoff to the door. His feelings when he got into his car were a mixture of euphoria and rage.

What should he do next? This was a question not easily answered. He had long suspected that sensitive information had been deliberately leaked from their department; what is more, there seemed a connection now between this man, his cat and the leak.

Matters might never have reached this point, had Geoff not accompanied fellow agents recently to an address that had fallen under suspicion. During the search of the house, he discovered a screwed up document amongst the contents of a wastepaper bin. The information on the document was from his department and it was highly sensitive. For the time being, he had kept that evidence to himself whilst he pondered the possible ways of flushing out the traitor.

Later, he had examined the paper for fingerprints but there were none, so it must have been handled with gloves. The only anomaly was a strange smear on the back. It seemed as though something with a distinct pattern had been placed on it and then carefully wiped away.

Several days had elapsed before the opportunity arrived that Geoff had been waiting for. He was instructed to deliver some items from an ongoing investigation to the police forensics laboratory, where he was a frequent visitor due to the nature of his work. One of the technicians was an old school friend, James Thornton.

“Well! What’s on your mind this time Geoff, cracked any interesting cases recently? We like to hear when our good work comes to something.”

Geoff handed the items to James to be tested and said, “I’m working on something that might provide you with a very good tale; it will require your assistance but must stay completely unofficial until I say otherwise.”

“Luckily I know you’re always above board; I would have said ‘No’ to anybody else.”

“See what you can do about the mark on the back of this document,” replied Geoff. “I’ll meet you tomorrow night at the golf clubhouse about seven-ish.”

The day after Geoff’s visit to his boss, there were whispers on the office grapevine that Mervin the cat had gone missing during its nightly wanderings, which had annoyed their boss. This seemed to brighten the working day for the rest of the department. Nevertheless, it was a great relief to Geoff when 5pm finally arrived. James was on time at the clubhouse and handed over his findings.

“I hope this is going to help your case,” he said. “The mark was made by a cat’s paw with green lead paint on it, and then cleaned off.”

Geoff thanked him profusely and held out a small paper bag. In the bottom were some barely discernable scrapings of green paint.

“That’s the last favour James,” he said. “See you here again at the same time. Let me know which evening will suit you.”

Within forty-eight hours, Geoff was in possession of the conclusive evidence against his boss and had made up his mind how to use it. First of all, he went to his office early and collected a few personal things and then left for the ‘Lion’s Den’ – the Director’s office. He did so with the certainty that it would be the last he would ever see of his job.

“He is ready to see you,” said his secretary frostily. “Follow me,” and led him to a chair in a large plush office.

“You must be on a career suicide mission!” boomed a voice from the other side of the over-sized desk between them. “The function of protocol in our organisation is to ensure that there is order and discipline. Obviously, you feel it does not apply to you.”

He continued with his tirade.

“Number one rule: You do not bypass, or snitch on the head of your department in the hope of a lift up the career ladder from the man at the top. It does not work that way. Number two: We work as a team in this organisation, there are no ‘one man bands’. My secretary has already briefed me on your incredulous story, including the colourful, ‘I’ve nicked the governor’s mog’. Believe me; you are facing some serious repercussions over your actions and accusations.”

“Quite honestly sir,” replied Geoff angrily, “I