Read Online The Mike Murphy Files and Other Stories by Christopher Bunn - Free Book Online
Authors: Christopher Bunn
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right places. Her eyes glittered. She wriggled and squirmed as if she were shedding her skin. And then the transformation was complete. Flavia Badawi.
“Give me my pearls!” she shouted. “Give them to me! My lovely, lovely pearls!”
She raised her hands and rattled off a few lines in some foreign lingo. It sounded bad. It didn’t sound like anything I’d ever heard from a taxicab driver. It was much worse. The room darkened. The mummies staggered forward. The pygmies were chanting something that didn’t sound encouraging. They waved their spears. The room darkened even more. And the pearls around Maura’s neck began to shine. Flavia’s head swiveled toward us. Her teeth flashed, sharp and white.
“Mike!” screamed Maura, sounding pretty concerned. “Do something!”
I raised my Glock and fired off the whole clip. The glass wall of the aquarium was thick, but it wasn’t thick enough to withstand thirteen rounds. The wall shattered. With a roar, about four hundred thousand gallons of seawater cascaded into the room. Along with a lot of fish, some electric eels, a couple of delighted sharks, and one massive, angry octopus. The octopus grabbed onto the first thing it saw. And that was Flavia. I would’ve gladly given the octopus a hand, but it had eight and, besides, I was trying not to drown. Someone grabbed me by the collar and hoisted me up onto the base of a pillar. Maura. Several pygmies went careening by on the tidal wash with a shark fin in pursuit. The octopus was thrashing around in the water. Waterlogged mummies latched onto its arms, one by one. Flavia emerged from the torrent.
“Give me my pearls!” she shrieked.
“Take ‘em, you freaky witch!” yelled Maura. And she whipped those pearls through the air. They caught Flavia right around the neck.
“My pearls!” she screamed. “My lovely, lovely pearls!”
But the octopus had one free arm left. It grabbed the necklace and yanked Flavia off her feet. Even from across that enormous room and with all the screaming and yelling and pygmy chanting, I could hear her neck crack.
“Mummies,” said Backus, floating by on one of the refreshment tables. “They’re pretty fragile, especially when they get soggy. I should’ve never taken those blasted pearls off her neck in the first place.”
And to the octopus’ astonishment and irritation, the body of Flavia Badawi crumpled and shrank into the linen-wrapped corpse of the last queen of the Neflureti Dynasty, complete with her pearl necklace wrapped tightly around her neck.
Of course, as I expected, the Captain refused to pay me the rest of my money.
“You’re a menace, Murphy!” he shouted. I was sitting in his office the following morning, helping myself to a chocolate éclair. “You’re a natural disaster! Do you know how much damage you did last night? Do you know how much a four-hundred-thousand-gallon aquarium costs? Not to mention all those priceless, freeze-dried pygmies. Look at the headlines here. Museum Mayhem! Mayor Mortified! Dozens Dead in Devastating Destruction! Dastardly Deed Done by Detective! Pygmies Pulverized! I’m not paying you a cent!”
“But I solved the case,” I said. “No more zombies.”
“Get out of my office!” he shouted.
“What about my expenses?”
“Get out!”
Maura was waiting for me outside.
“How’d it go?” she said.
“About as expected. He got a little emotional about the pygmies.”
“Oh well,” she said, tucking her hand into my arm. We strolled down the sidewalk. “At least Backus paid you. So, how about buying me lunch? I’m in the mood for octopus.”
THE INHERITANCE OF POLLY INCH
“With the exception of the gift of a moldy, shrunken head from the Nanomani Tribe generously bequeathed to the Explorers Society (which I trust will remind them of the quality of their own heads), the remainder of my estate goes to my niece, Polly Inch.”
Here, the lawyer, old Mr. Fleming, stopped reading the will and looked
“Give me my pearls!” she shouted. “Give them to me! My lovely, lovely pearls!”
She raised her hands and rattled off a few lines in some foreign lingo. It sounded bad. It didn’t sound like anything I’d ever heard from a taxicab driver. It was much worse. The room darkened. The mummies staggered forward. The pygmies were chanting something that didn’t sound encouraging. They waved their spears. The room darkened even more. And the pearls around Maura’s neck began to shine. Flavia’s head swiveled toward us. Her teeth flashed, sharp and white.
“Mike!” screamed Maura, sounding pretty concerned. “Do something!”
I raised my Glock and fired off the whole clip. The glass wall of the aquarium was thick, but it wasn’t thick enough to withstand thirteen rounds. The wall shattered. With a roar, about four hundred thousand gallons of seawater cascaded into the room. Along with a lot of fish, some electric eels, a couple of delighted sharks, and one massive, angry octopus. The octopus grabbed onto the first thing it saw. And that was Flavia. I would’ve gladly given the octopus a hand, but it had eight and, besides, I was trying not to drown. Someone grabbed me by the collar and hoisted me up onto the base of a pillar. Maura. Several pygmies went careening by on the tidal wash with a shark fin in pursuit. The octopus was thrashing around in the water. Waterlogged mummies latched onto its arms, one by one. Flavia emerged from the torrent.
“Give me my pearls!” she shrieked.
“Take ‘em, you freaky witch!” yelled Maura. And she whipped those pearls through the air. They caught Flavia right around the neck.
“My pearls!” she screamed. “My lovely, lovely pearls!”
But the octopus had one free arm left. It grabbed the necklace and yanked Flavia off her feet. Even from across that enormous room and with all the screaming and yelling and pygmy chanting, I could hear her neck crack.
“Mummies,” said Backus, floating by on one of the refreshment tables. “They’re pretty fragile, especially when they get soggy. I should’ve never taken those blasted pearls off her neck in the first place.”
And to the octopus’ astonishment and irritation, the body of Flavia Badawi crumpled and shrank into the linen-wrapped corpse of the last queen of the Neflureti Dynasty, complete with her pearl necklace wrapped tightly around her neck.
Of course, as I expected, the Captain refused to pay me the rest of my money.
“You’re a menace, Murphy!” he shouted. I was sitting in his office the following morning, helping myself to a chocolate éclair. “You’re a natural disaster! Do you know how much damage you did last night? Do you know how much a four-hundred-thousand-gallon aquarium costs? Not to mention all those priceless, freeze-dried pygmies. Look at the headlines here. Museum Mayhem! Mayor Mortified! Dozens Dead in Devastating Destruction! Dastardly Deed Done by Detective! Pygmies Pulverized! I’m not paying you a cent!”
“But I solved the case,” I said. “No more zombies.”
“Get out of my office!” he shouted.
“What about my expenses?”
“Get out!”
Maura was waiting for me outside.
“How’d it go?” she said.
“About as expected. He got a little emotional about the pygmies.”
“Oh well,” she said, tucking her hand into my arm. We strolled down the sidewalk. “At least Backus paid you. So, how about buying me lunch? I’m in the mood for octopus.”
THE INHERITANCE OF POLLY INCH
“With the exception of the gift of a moldy, shrunken head from the Nanomani Tribe generously bequeathed to the Explorers Society (which I trust will remind them of the quality of their own heads), the remainder of my estate goes to my niece, Polly Inch.”
Here, the lawyer, old Mr. Fleming, stopped reading the will and looked
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