Read Online Depth of Deception (A Titanic Murder Mystery) by Alexander Galant - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alexander Galant
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hours traveling to Scotland to look for clues on a very, very cold case. It was no longer about the brooch he had been initially hired to find but rather a personal mission… because of his grandfather. Callum shook his head. He was a nutter.
" How now, " a shrill voice in a thick Glaswegian accent called out. " What do you want? State your business. "
The voice had happened upon him so quickly it startled him. Callum saw that the front door had opened ever so slightly, and an old woman was peering out at him. The woman kept the safety chain secured, preventing the door from opening further. For a brief moment, he entertained the thought that it might be the ghost of Agatha Gilcrest, but upon closer inspection he saw it was not so. This woman’s elderly face was longer and the eyes were very different, yet still full of life. " What do you want? You’ve been standing there, staring at my home for the past ten minutes. State your business before I summon the police. "
" My apologies, " stammered Callum, clearing his throat. " I’m an investigator and I’m investigating… "
He paused. The words wouldn’t come out. He knew it would sound ludicrous to the old woman.
" Investigator investigating what? " asked the old woman.
" A murder, " the words came out of Callum’s mouth before he could stop them.
" A murder? " asked the old woman nervously. " Whose murder? "
" It was an old woman… " began Callum. He could see the look of fear being replaced with an odd wide-eyed expression on the old woman before him. " I’m sorry, it happened a long time ago. You couldn’t… "
Embarrassed that he hadn’t planned this better, Callum turned to leave without another word. As he started down the steps the old woman called out, " Toughill? "
Callum Toughill froze mid-step, then he slow ly turned back to the old woman. The chain was off the front door and she stepped out towards him.
" Do I know you? " asked Callum.
" You look like Inspector John Toughill, " muttered the old woman. " But that’s impossible. "
" Inspector John Toughill was my grandfather. "
She stepped closer. " Your hair is lighter than his was. Shoulders are broader. And he had a moustache, but your eyes are the same… steel grey… and your profile. "
It was true—Callum had seen photos of his grandfather when he was a younger man and many a relative had made the same comparisons. " You knew my grandfather? "
" Aye. He was a good man. I remember him standing where you’re standing now, studying every detail with the same eyes. "
Callum’s mind was reeling. She remembered his grandfather? Who was she? Suddenly a million questions raced through his head. He opened his mouth but all that came out was, " When? "
" The night that still haunts my dreams. The night poor old Mrs. Gilcrest was murdered. "
Chapter XI
Dr. Natalie Lindsay entered her new patient's room and was surprised to find her sitting up at the foot of the bed and looking at her reflection in the mirror. Natalie was impressed at the progress of her physical recovery. Earlier, the patient was so pasty, almost anemic-looking and physically weak. What a drastic change in just a few short hours.
"How are we today?" asked Natalie. Her patient slowly turned towards her. Natalie was once again taken aback by her intense blue eyes. The patient looked back at her reflection as she touched her own face.
"I don’t know… I look at myself in the mirror but it's a stranger looking back at me. I don't know who I am," she said in a trembling voice.
"It's not uncommon with amnesia patients," replied Natalie. "I'm here to help you get your memory back… If you'll let me."
"But I know I'm sitting on a bed ... I'm looking into a mirror. I know what things are called... I know how to talk and how to walk... how is it that I know that I'm feeling cold but I can’t remember my own name?"
"Well," Natalie began as she s at in the chair next to the bed, "You could be suffering from either
" How now, " a shrill voice in a thick Glaswegian accent called out. " What do you want? State your business. "
The voice had happened upon him so quickly it startled him. Callum saw that the front door had opened ever so slightly, and an old woman was peering out at him. The woman kept the safety chain secured, preventing the door from opening further. For a brief moment, he entertained the thought that it might be the ghost of Agatha Gilcrest, but upon closer inspection he saw it was not so. This woman’s elderly face was longer and the eyes were very different, yet still full of life. " What do you want? You’ve been standing there, staring at my home for the past ten minutes. State your business before I summon the police. "
" My apologies, " stammered Callum, clearing his throat. " I’m an investigator and I’m investigating… "
He paused. The words wouldn’t come out. He knew it would sound ludicrous to the old woman.
" Investigator investigating what? " asked the old woman.
" A murder, " the words came out of Callum’s mouth before he could stop them.
" A murder? " asked the old woman nervously. " Whose murder? "
" It was an old woman… " began Callum. He could see the look of fear being replaced with an odd wide-eyed expression on the old woman before him. " I’m sorry, it happened a long time ago. You couldn’t… "
Embarrassed that he hadn’t planned this better, Callum turned to leave without another word. As he started down the steps the old woman called out, " Toughill? "
Callum Toughill froze mid-step, then he slow ly turned back to the old woman. The chain was off the front door and she stepped out towards him.
" Do I know you? " asked Callum.
" You look like Inspector John Toughill, " muttered the old woman. " But that’s impossible. "
" Inspector John Toughill was my grandfather. "
She stepped closer. " Your hair is lighter than his was. Shoulders are broader. And he had a moustache, but your eyes are the same… steel grey… and your profile. "
It was true—Callum had seen photos of his grandfather when he was a younger man and many a relative had made the same comparisons. " You knew my grandfather? "
" Aye. He was a good man. I remember him standing where you’re standing now, studying every detail with the same eyes. "
Callum’s mind was reeling. She remembered his grandfather? Who was she? Suddenly a million questions raced through his head. He opened his mouth but all that came out was, " When? "
" The night that still haunts my dreams. The night poor old Mrs. Gilcrest was murdered. "
Chapter XI
Dr. Natalie Lindsay entered her new patient's room and was surprised to find her sitting up at the foot of the bed and looking at her reflection in the mirror. Natalie was impressed at the progress of her physical recovery. Earlier, the patient was so pasty, almost anemic-looking and physically weak. What a drastic change in just a few short hours.
"How are we today?" asked Natalie. Her patient slowly turned towards her. Natalie was once again taken aback by her intense blue eyes. The patient looked back at her reflection as she touched her own face.
"I don’t know… I look at myself in the mirror but it's a stranger looking back at me. I don't know who I am," she said in a trembling voice.
"It's not uncommon with amnesia patients," replied Natalie. "I'm here to help you get your memory back… If you'll let me."
"But I know I'm sitting on a bed ... I'm looking into a mirror. I know what things are called... I know how to talk and how to walk... how is it that I know that I'm feeling cold but I can’t remember my own name?"
"Well," Natalie began as she s at in the chair next to the bed, "You could be suffering from either
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