Read Online Everyone's Dead But Us by Mark Richard Zubro - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mark Richard Zubro
Ads: Link
flashlight in a slow arc. About halfway around the room, it starkly lit up Virl Morgan with taut butt pistoning above the spread legs of his employer. Deplonte was chained hand and foot to a sling. Our view from the side showed his penetrated butt a few inches off the seat.
Both men turned to us and gasped in astonishment. I flicked out the light.
“Who the fuck is there?” called Virl’s masculine voice.
We eased back out and waited. A few moments later Morgan swung open the door. He wore a pair of jeans that clung without a belt to his slender hips. His massive, hirsute chest had a healthy pink glow. He had a gun in his hand. “What the fuck are you doing in here?”
Tudor had died from a gunshot. I had no way of knowing whether the caliber of the gun that had been used in the killing matched the caliber of this one. Or, even if it was the same kind of gun, whether it was in fact the same gun. Certainly, I had neither the equipment nor the expertise to find out if it was the murder weapon. All that presumed I could wrestle it away from him to do any such checking.
I prepared myself to leap at Morgan if he raised the gun in the slightest. I said, “I saw your boss in the Atrium about ten minutes before it collapsed. The castle tower has been blown to bits. I found Henry Tudor’s body with a bullet hole in the head.”
His royally screwed boss, now dressed in white silk briefs, joined us. With aristocratic snippety, he said, “Who’s disturbing us?”
Morgan repeated my story to the son of the pretender. He scratched his silk clad nuts as he listened to the story.
When Morgan finished, I said, “A number of the employees were killed in the collapse of the Atrium. We can’t get any help from off the island because of the storm. We have people injured, at least one very seriously. We’ve got a killer loose on the island who is most likely also an expert in explosives.”
Morgan nodded. “Not likely to be two different people.”
“You’ve got a gun,” Scott pointed out.
Morgan looked at it. “Yeah?”
“Do you know who else has a gun on the island?” Scott asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Are we going to be inconvenienced?” Deplonte asked.
I said, “Depends if you considered being murdered an inconvenience or not.” I wondered if his remark was the result of years of aristocratic indifference, the shallow comment of someone who was little more than an excessively immature frat boy—if that wasn’t a redundancy, or if he was simply a moronic twit. Or perhaps all three.
Morgan said, “You’re investigating?” I explained the current division of duties. Morgan said, “I’ll go with you to check the villas. We’ve got to know exactly who is here, who’s missing. You guys would have to be suspects as well. Maybe even more so because, as you claim, Tudor’s body was in your room and the castle tower is what got blown up.”
I said, “So far everybody on the island, including you two, could be suspects as well. We saw you running on the path. Don’t you usually wait to do that until after your charge is asleep?”
“We’re both awake,” was his answer, which didn’t address the question.
I said, “It could have been you who planted the dead body in our room.”
He nodded. “Plenty of suspicion to go around.”
I said, “I’d rather it just be Scott and I who checked the villas.”
Morgan said, “I have an obligation to my charge to ensure his safety. Part of keeping him safe is finding out what the hell happened and being sure that it is not a danger to him.” He turned to his employer. “We need to get dressed. We need to go with these two gentleman. We need to help.”
“Are we really going out in the storm?” Deplonte asked. He whined more annoyingly than a loser on a reality television show.
“If we have to,” Morgan said.
“I’d rather wait here,” Deplonte said.
“You need to be where I can see you. Until we find out who is doing all this, I need you to
Both men turned to us and gasped in astonishment. I flicked out the light.
“Who the fuck is there?” called Virl’s masculine voice.
We eased back out and waited. A few moments later Morgan swung open the door. He wore a pair of jeans that clung without a belt to his slender hips. His massive, hirsute chest had a healthy pink glow. He had a gun in his hand. “What the fuck are you doing in here?”
Tudor had died from a gunshot. I had no way of knowing whether the caliber of the gun that had been used in the killing matched the caliber of this one. Or, even if it was the same kind of gun, whether it was in fact the same gun. Certainly, I had neither the equipment nor the expertise to find out if it was the murder weapon. All that presumed I could wrestle it away from him to do any such checking.
I prepared myself to leap at Morgan if he raised the gun in the slightest. I said, “I saw your boss in the Atrium about ten minutes before it collapsed. The castle tower has been blown to bits. I found Henry Tudor’s body with a bullet hole in the head.”
His royally screwed boss, now dressed in white silk briefs, joined us. With aristocratic snippety, he said, “Who’s disturbing us?”
Morgan repeated my story to the son of the pretender. He scratched his silk clad nuts as he listened to the story.
When Morgan finished, I said, “A number of the employees were killed in the collapse of the Atrium. We can’t get any help from off the island because of the storm. We have people injured, at least one very seriously. We’ve got a killer loose on the island who is most likely also an expert in explosives.”
Morgan nodded. “Not likely to be two different people.”
“You’ve got a gun,” Scott pointed out.
Morgan looked at it. “Yeah?”
“Do you know who else has a gun on the island?” Scott asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Are we going to be inconvenienced?” Deplonte asked.
I said, “Depends if you considered being murdered an inconvenience or not.” I wondered if his remark was the result of years of aristocratic indifference, the shallow comment of someone who was little more than an excessively immature frat boy—if that wasn’t a redundancy, or if he was simply a moronic twit. Or perhaps all three.
Morgan said, “You’re investigating?” I explained the current division of duties. Morgan said, “I’ll go with you to check the villas. We’ve got to know exactly who is here, who’s missing. You guys would have to be suspects as well. Maybe even more so because, as you claim, Tudor’s body was in your room and the castle tower is what got blown up.”
I said, “So far everybody on the island, including you two, could be suspects as well. We saw you running on the path. Don’t you usually wait to do that until after your charge is asleep?”
“We’re both awake,” was his answer, which didn’t address the question.
I said, “It could have been you who planted the dead body in our room.”
He nodded. “Plenty of suspicion to go around.”
I said, “I’d rather it just be Scott and I who checked the villas.”
Morgan said, “I have an obligation to my charge to ensure his safety. Part of keeping him safe is finding out what the hell happened and being sure that it is not a danger to him.” He turned to his employer. “We need to get dressed. We need to go with these two gentleman. We need to help.”
“Are we really going out in the storm?” Deplonte asked. He whined more annoyingly than a loser on a reality television show.
“If we have to,” Morgan said.
“I’d rather wait here,” Deplonte said.
“You need to be where I can see you. Until we find out who is doing all this, I need you to
Similar Books
