Read Online Stranger Things Have Happened: An Adrien English Write Your Own Damn Story (The Adrien English Mysteries) by Josh Lanyon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Josh Lanyon
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flowers are in one of those long white florist boxes. You’ve never had flowers sent to you before, and you could have done without these. Black hollyhocks and a dozen blood-red roses, perfect to the last thorn, seem a little on the macabre side.
There’s a card though no signature.
Nothing to him falls early, or too late…
You bin the flowers only to find Angus lurking behind you in the kitchen. He tells you Claude has been trying to reach you all day.
You call Claude who immediately launches into a tirade about how you led the police straight to him. Once you calm him down, he begins to talk about Robert, and what he has to say is not reassuring. As much as you hate to believe it, Claude sounds like he had a pretty strong motive for killing Robert.
But Claude also points out that Robert wasn’t the most tactful or sensitive of souls, and he made a lot of enemies. That’s true. You knew Robert a long time. You practically grew up together. Feeling a little nostalgic, you dig out your own yearbook and flip through the pages of youthful faces.
Angus calls you to the phone, but when you pick up, there’s no one there.
Is it just me or is a lot of stuff happening to you all at once?
Anyway, you’re having cereal for dinner because you are one Lonely Guy, when Detective Riordan shows up unannounced.
__________
If you decide to let Jake in, click here
If you decide it would be wiser not to answer the door and instead catch up on your paperwork, click here
F ive minutes later, after proceeding along an inclined gallery that winds ever upward, you’re ushered into a vast vaulted chamber lit with a thousand phosphorescent lamps and gleaming with idols of gold and silver, jewels flashing from their eyes.
High in the dome hangs a great golden disc, representing the sun. At the far end, above a marble altar, coils a dragon with tusks of ivory and scales of jade, its eyes two lustrous pearls. And all about the room throng priests in fantastic head-dress and long white robes, woven through elaborately with threads of yellow and green.
At the appearance of the captives — that would be you and Professor James Riordan — a murmur like a chant rises in the still air. Someone touches a brand to the altar and there is a flash of flame followed by a thin column of smoke that spirals slowly upward.
Now one of the priests steps out — the supreme one among them, to judge from the magnificence of his robe — and addresses you, speaking slowly, rhythmically.
As his strange, sonorous discourse continues, Professor Riordan grows visibly perturbed. His blond beard twitches and he shifts uneasily on his feet.
Finally the discourse ceases and the professor replies to it, briefly. He turns his grave, tawny eyes on you.
“What is it?” you ask quietly. “What did the priest say?”
He considers, before replying.
“Naturally, I did not gather everything,” is his slow reply, “but I gleaned sufficient information to understand what is afoot. First, however, let me explain that the dragon you see over there embodies their deity Tlaloc, god of the sea. In more happy circumstances, it would be interesting to note that the name is identified with the Mayan god of the same element.”
He pauses, as though loath to go on, then continues, “At any rate, the Antillians have worshipped Tlaloc principally, since their sun god failed them. They believe he dragged down their empire in his mighty coils, through anger with them, and will raise it up again if appeased. Therefore they propose today to —”
A chill ripples down your spine. “Uh, that’s interesting.” You unobtrusively check how many rounds of ammo remain in your belt. “But does that mean what I think it does?”
“Not being a mind reader, I can’t be sure, however, if you surmise that we are about to be sacrificed to the dragon god of the Antillians, I concur.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, have you any brilliant ideas as to how we can get out of this jam,
There’s a card though no signature.
Nothing to him falls early, or too late…
You bin the flowers only to find Angus lurking behind you in the kitchen. He tells you Claude has been trying to reach you all day.
You call Claude who immediately launches into a tirade about how you led the police straight to him. Once you calm him down, he begins to talk about Robert, and what he has to say is not reassuring. As much as you hate to believe it, Claude sounds like he had a pretty strong motive for killing Robert.
But Claude also points out that Robert wasn’t the most tactful or sensitive of souls, and he made a lot of enemies. That’s true. You knew Robert a long time. You practically grew up together. Feeling a little nostalgic, you dig out your own yearbook and flip through the pages of youthful faces.
Angus calls you to the phone, but when you pick up, there’s no one there.
Is it just me or is a lot of stuff happening to you all at once?
Anyway, you’re having cereal for dinner because you are one Lonely Guy, when Detective Riordan shows up unannounced.
__________
If you decide to let Jake in, click here
If you decide it would be wiser not to answer the door and instead catch up on your paperwork, click here
F ive minutes later, after proceeding along an inclined gallery that winds ever upward, you’re ushered into a vast vaulted chamber lit with a thousand phosphorescent lamps and gleaming with idols of gold and silver, jewels flashing from their eyes.
High in the dome hangs a great golden disc, representing the sun. At the far end, above a marble altar, coils a dragon with tusks of ivory and scales of jade, its eyes two lustrous pearls. And all about the room throng priests in fantastic head-dress and long white robes, woven through elaborately with threads of yellow and green.
At the appearance of the captives — that would be you and Professor James Riordan — a murmur like a chant rises in the still air. Someone touches a brand to the altar and there is a flash of flame followed by a thin column of smoke that spirals slowly upward.
Now one of the priests steps out — the supreme one among them, to judge from the magnificence of his robe — and addresses you, speaking slowly, rhythmically.
As his strange, sonorous discourse continues, Professor Riordan grows visibly perturbed. His blond beard twitches and he shifts uneasily on his feet.
Finally the discourse ceases and the professor replies to it, briefly. He turns his grave, tawny eyes on you.
“What is it?” you ask quietly. “What did the priest say?”
He considers, before replying.
“Naturally, I did not gather everything,” is his slow reply, “but I gleaned sufficient information to understand what is afoot. First, however, let me explain that the dragon you see over there embodies their deity Tlaloc, god of the sea. In more happy circumstances, it would be interesting to note that the name is identified with the Mayan god of the same element.”
He pauses, as though loath to go on, then continues, “At any rate, the Antillians have worshipped Tlaloc principally, since their sun god failed them. They believe he dragged down their empire in his mighty coils, through anger with them, and will raise it up again if appeased. Therefore they propose today to —”
A chill ripples down your spine. “Uh, that’s interesting.” You unobtrusively check how many rounds of ammo remain in your belt. “But does that mean what I think it does?”
“Not being a mind reader, I can’t be sure, however, if you surmise that we are about to be sacrificed to the dragon god of the Antillians, I concur.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, have you any brilliant ideas as to how we can get out of this jam,
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