Read Online 2 A Reason for Murder by Morgana Best - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Morgana Best
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do a bit of work. There's no food in the house, so you could interview me over dinner - if you would like an interview, that is."
I sighed with relief before I could stop myself. "Yes, thank you; that sounds good. I'm flying to Melbourne early tomorrow morning and I'll be back late. What about the day after tomorrow?"
"Take a cat, and spoil her with milk
And tender meat, and make her a bed of silk,
And let her see a mouse go by the wall,
At once she forgoes milk, and tender meat, and all,
And every dainty that is in that house,
Her appetite prefers to eat the mouse."
(Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales)
Chapter Ten .
I met Melissa at Tullamarine, Melbourne's International Airport, although I met her of course at a domestic terminal. My two hour flight had been uneventful, but the coffee had been disgusting, and on the cheap flight I had to pay for it. Never again. When I say "uneventful," I mean that there wasn't a lot of turbulence, as I did have the most horrid nightmare, so bad in fact, that the flight attendant had to shake me gently by the shoulder to wake me. I can't remember the nightmare, only that it was terrifying.
I'd had a nasty nightmare the previous night too, but thankfully my alarm had sounded, bringing me into the present realm of dreamlessness. In that dream, an entity the shape of a small round object flattened at the sides had walked at me, talking. It had tiny black arms and legs, but a huge mouth that chopped and cut as it spoke. Its mouth flickered unsteadily. I know that doesn't sound at all frightening in the retelling, but the malevolent power it oozed left me petrified and shaking with dread.
The shuttle bus pulled up at Southern Cross Station, and by the time we'd walked to Bourke Street Mall, countless blocks away, or so it seemed to my suffering feet, I'd wished I had worn runners. Melissa abandoned me on a seat outside Myer, and left to interview someone at the Princess Theater about their famous ghost by the name of Federici.
I was going to track down the Spellbox, a witches' supply store in the Royal Arcade off Bourke Street Mall down the Elizabeth Street end. My guidebook told me that the Spellbox stocked a range of spells, talismans, books, wands, exotic household items, ritual tools, magical curios, and objects from all cultures, as well as offering tarot and psychic readings. Apparently on an upper level and near the main store could be found another Spellbox outlet which was a spell and herbal dispensary.
It took me a while to find the Royal Arcade as there were two other arcades in close proximity. When I did, I was struck by its beauty, a piece of history amidst the hustle and bustle of the high-speed city life in which it was ensconced. My guidebook said the Arcade was in the Renaissance Revival style. I had no clue what that meant, but I did recognize it as Victorian era. The ornate high glass roof afforded strong natural light to the rows of specialty stores. I walked over the black and white Victorian era tiles while keeping an eye out for the Spellbox. Just as I spotted it, my attention was drawn to the end of the arcade.
At the Little Collins Street end, the Royal Arcade displayed enormous effigies of the mythical figures Gog and Magog and as well as a huge clock. Below was a sign that said the clock is struck by Gog and Magog every hour. A crowd of tourists was already in place, cameras ready. The sign said that the two seven foot giants have been striking the time on Gaunts Clock since 1892. They were carved from pine and modeled on the figures erected in Guildhall, London, in 1708 to symbolize the conflict between the ancient Britons and the Trojan invaders.
I was quite disturbed by this and decided to email the people responsible for having the sign in the Arcade. Trojans and Britons at conflict, what utter nonsense. Someone had their time frames out by a long way.
I stood against a jewelry store window and googled on my iPhone. I was distracted for a
I sighed with relief before I could stop myself. "Yes, thank you; that sounds good. I'm flying to Melbourne early tomorrow morning and I'll be back late. What about the day after tomorrow?"
"Take a cat, and spoil her with milk
And tender meat, and make her a bed of silk,
And let her see a mouse go by the wall,
At once she forgoes milk, and tender meat, and all,
And every dainty that is in that house,
Her appetite prefers to eat the mouse."
(Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales)
Chapter Ten .
I met Melissa at Tullamarine, Melbourne's International Airport, although I met her of course at a domestic terminal. My two hour flight had been uneventful, but the coffee had been disgusting, and on the cheap flight I had to pay for it. Never again. When I say "uneventful," I mean that there wasn't a lot of turbulence, as I did have the most horrid nightmare, so bad in fact, that the flight attendant had to shake me gently by the shoulder to wake me. I can't remember the nightmare, only that it was terrifying.
I'd had a nasty nightmare the previous night too, but thankfully my alarm had sounded, bringing me into the present realm of dreamlessness. In that dream, an entity the shape of a small round object flattened at the sides had walked at me, talking. It had tiny black arms and legs, but a huge mouth that chopped and cut as it spoke. Its mouth flickered unsteadily. I know that doesn't sound at all frightening in the retelling, but the malevolent power it oozed left me petrified and shaking with dread.
The shuttle bus pulled up at Southern Cross Station, and by the time we'd walked to Bourke Street Mall, countless blocks away, or so it seemed to my suffering feet, I'd wished I had worn runners. Melissa abandoned me on a seat outside Myer, and left to interview someone at the Princess Theater about their famous ghost by the name of Federici.
I was going to track down the Spellbox, a witches' supply store in the Royal Arcade off Bourke Street Mall down the Elizabeth Street end. My guidebook told me that the Spellbox stocked a range of spells, talismans, books, wands, exotic household items, ritual tools, magical curios, and objects from all cultures, as well as offering tarot and psychic readings. Apparently on an upper level and near the main store could be found another Spellbox outlet which was a spell and herbal dispensary.
It took me a while to find the Royal Arcade as there were two other arcades in close proximity. When I did, I was struck by its beauty, a piece of history amidst the hustle and bustle of the high-speed city life in which it was ensconced. My guidebook said the Arcade was in the Renaissance Revival style. I had no clue what that meant, but I did recognize it as Victorian era. The ornate high glass roof afforded strong natural light to the rows of specialty stores. I walked over the black and white Victorian era tiles while keeping an eye out for the Spellbox. Just as I spotted it, my attention was drawn to the end of the arcade.
At the Little Collins Street end, the Royal Arcade displayed enormous effigies of the mythical figures Gog and Magog and as well as a huge clock. Below was a sign that said the clock is struck by Gog and Magog every hour. A crowd of tourists was already in place, cameras ready. The sign said that the two seven foot giants have been striking the time on Gaunts Clock since 1892. They were carved from pine and modeled on the figures erected in Guildhall, London, in 1708 to symbolize the conflict between the ancient Britons and the Trojan invaders.
I was quite disturbed by this and decided to email the people responsible for having the sign in the Arcade. Trojans and Britons at conflict, what utter nonsense. Someone had their time frames out by a long way.
I stood against a jewelry store window and googled on my iPhone. I was distracted for a
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