Section 105 didn’t do it
Friday had now raised its head above the parapet and looked like being shot to pieces. Vernon sighed. Though perhaps not as bad as the worst day of his life this was raw enough.
“When did you last see him Jean Luc?”
“I was careless enough to take a ranting call from Tarkey; Émile was listening in from the kitchen.”
“Last night Vernon.”
Though painfully obvious the sentiment needed expressing. “Jean Luc this is tragic. Is there anything I can do?”
Now that Jean Luc had faced up to the worst of it, the liquid rush of vocabulary was drying up. It was as if the incidental complexities he offered initially represented the dubious sludge at the bottom of a reservoir that has been dredged to recover a body. The technicalities and subsequent emotions were both now running dry.
“I doubt it.” sighed Jean Luc, “I’ve let the police know. Ari is beside herself with worry. Émile’s got the money you gave him and as you know he’s a canny sod.”
“I have to ask this Jean Luc; do you think he did it?”
No measurable hesitation was evident. “He’s arrogant and self-assured, and he’s technically capable Vernon, but I don’t think he did it, no.”
“D’you want me to come round? Bring some food or something?”
Now the hesitation was palpable. “Nnn… Nah, not today. Ari’s a little highly strung and I’m the cause. Plus we have a detective coming around in the afternoon to get more details. They may contact you too Vernon. Perhaps we could meet up for a beer in the evening?”
“Sure. Look I’m sorry Jean Luc for involving you in all this. Is the Cannon Brewery close enough to home?”
“That’ll do fine Vernon” Jean Luc said with a heaviness that hung there like the sense of a third person eavesdropping.
“Before you go; is there anything you need me to do about Tarkey? I guess he’s baying for blood.”
“You’d think so but one rant seemed to satisfy him and anyway, he can’t do anything at the moment because the police are involved.”
“Keep in touch Jean Luc. I’ll see you at the Brewery, about seven o’clock okay?
Jean Luc’s sigh of affirmation was as eloquent as it was heart rending. Vernon threw his phone onto the armchair across the bedroom and fell back onto the pillow in despair. What a mess.
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