Read Online Uneasy Relations by Aaron Elkins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Aaron Elkins
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Forensic anthropologists, Oliver; Gideon (Fictitious Character), College teachers, Gibraltar
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wonder,” Julie said kindly, patently glad to see him returning to his logical, reasonable self.
“Hold it, I just had another thought,” Pru said, scooping up the last of the puddled custard on which her demolished roly-poly had lain. “What have you got in that pocket, Gideon? I heard something crackle in there.”
“I don’t know.” He reached in and pulled out the opened bag of peanuts. “These. Why?”
“And you said there were monkeys around?”
“Yes. In fact, I offered them to one of them, but — wait a minute, you think a
monkey
—”
“Why not? Grabbing for the bag and accidentally pushing you off balance? They’re strong, you know that. And they could easily reach your hip. And if you offered the bag to one before, then he probably saw where it came from,” she said. “It makes more sense than anything else, Gideon.”
Another graceful out, this one provided by Pru.
He smiled gratefully at her. “It certainly does.” And now that he thought about it, it did. It would account for the one thing the wind didn’t account for: the touch on his hip that he thought — imagined? — he’d felt. It made sense. It explained things more simply and logically than having to construct a villain or even a cantankerous wind. He liked it. Thomas of Occam would have liked it too. He relaxed a little more.
“In fact, now that monkeys are in the picture,” Julie put in brightly, “maybe it wasn’t so innocent. I wonder if he didn’t do it on purpose. Maybe you shouldn’t have said all those nasty things about monkeys. They have feelings too, you know.”
“I tried to apologize to the big guy on the top step,” Gideon said, willingly going along with the change in mood. “The peanuts were supposed to be a peace offering. He wasn’t buying it.”
“Hey,” Pru said, “maybe it was a desperado-type monkey, one of those bad-to-the-bone monkeys, a homicidal monkey. A sociopath monkey.” Pensively, she put a forefinger to her pursed lips.
“Tell me, was he wearing sunglasses, by any chance?”
SEVEN
TINK-TINK. Tink-tink-tink
.
The tapping of Adrian Vanderwater’s fingernail on his glass had its intended effect. His fellow diners in the Top of the Rock Bar and Restaurant ceased their several conversations and turned amiably toward him.
With Adrian at the smaller of the two tables was his one-time student Corbin Hobgood, now an associate professor at Stanford and the man who had been Adrian’s assistant director on the Europa Point dig. On the three bar stools were Rowley Boyd, Audrey Godwin-Pope, and Audrey’s husband, Buck.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Adrian was saying, “I think we all owe a debt of thanks to Rowley and the Museum of Archaeology and Geology for their generosity in arranging this delightful outing and the superb lunch we’ve just enjoyed.”
Wine and water glasses were lifted in Rowley’s direction. “Hear, hear,” came from someone.
“Yeah, but you could have done a better job with the weather,” Pru said to general laughter.
“But what could I possibly have done about the weather?” Rowley asked earnestly, going off into a long, serious explanation of how, because of the conference programming, this was the only day that he could confidently assume that everyone would be free for an outing to the Rock. If it had been possible to arrange for a day with better weather, he would have done so, and so on. And on.
Gideon couldn’t help smiling. He knew Rowley from having run into him at various meetings, and he had come to know him as a charming, cheerful, almost cherubic man. But he was also just about the most literal-minded person he had ever met. Irony was totally lost on him. In its April 1997 issue,
Discover
magazine had run a playful article about some Neanderthal musical instruments that had supposedly been newly discovered in Germany’s Neander Valley, including a tuba (made from a mastodon tusk), a bagpipe (made from the bladder of a woolly
“Hold it, I just had another thought,” Pru said, scooping up the last of the puddled custard on which her demolished roly-poly had lain. “What have you got in that pocket, Gideon? I heard something crackle in there.”
“I don’t know.” He reached in and pulled out the opened bag of peanuts. “These. Why?”
“And you said there were monkeys around?”
“Yes. In fact, I offered them to one of them, but — wait a minute, you think a
monkey
—”
“Why not? Grabbing for the bag and accidentally pushing you off balance? They’re strong, you know that. And they could easily reach your hip. And if you offered the bag to one before, then he probably saw where it came from,” she said. “It makes more sense than anything else, Gideon.”
Another graceful out, this one provided by Pru.
He smiled gratefully at her. “It certainly does.” And now that he thought about it, it did. It would account for the one thing the wind didn’t account for: the touch on his hip that he thought — imagined? — he’d felt. It made sense. It explained things more simply and logically than having to construct a villain or even a cantankerous wind. He liked it. Thomas of Occam would have liked it too. He relaxed a little more.
“In fact, now that monkeys are in the picture,” Julie put in brightly, “maybe it wasn’t so innocent. I wonder if he didn’t do it on purpose. Maybe you shouldn’t have said all those nasty things about monkeys. They have feelings too, you know.”
“I tried to apologize to the big guy on the top step,” Gideon said, willingly going along with the change in mood. “The peanuts were supposed to be a peace offering. He wasn’t buying it.”
“Hey,” Pru said, “maybe it was a desperado-type monkey, one of those bad-to-the-bone monkeys, a homicidal monkey. A sociopath monkey.” Pensively, she put a forefinger to her pursed lips.
“Tell me, was he wearing sunglasses, by any chance?”
SEVEN
TINK-TINK. Tink-tink-tink
.
The tapping of Adrian Vanderwater’s fingernail on his glass had its intended effect. His fellow diners in the Top of the Rock Bar and Restaurant ceased their several conversations and turned amiably toward him.
With Adrian at the smaller of the two tables was his one-time student Corbin Hobgood, now an associate professor at Stanford and the man who had been Adrian’s assistant director on the Europa Point dig. On the three bar stools were Rowley Boyd, Audrey Godwin-Pope, and Audrey’s husband, Buck.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Adrian was saying, “I think we all owe a debt of thanks to Rowley and the Museum of Archaeology and Geology for their generosity in arranging this delightful outing and the superb lunch we’ve just enjoyed.”
Wine and water glasses were lifted in Rowley’s direction. “Hear, hear,” came from someone.
“Yeah, but you could have done a better job with the weather,” Pru said to general laughter.
“But what could I possibly have done about the weather?” Rowley asked earnestly, going off into a long, serious explanation of how, because of the conference programming, this was the only day that he could confidently assume that everyone would be free for an outing to the Rock. If it had been possible to arrange for a day with better weather, he would have done so, and so on. And on.
Gideon couldn’t help smiling. He knew Rowley from having run into him at various meetings, and he had come to know him as a charming, cheerful, almost cherubic man. But he was also just about the most literal-minded person he had ever met. Irony was totally lost on him. In its April 1997 issue,
Discover
magazine had run a playful article about some Neanderthal musical instruments that had supposedly been newly discovered in Germany’s Neander Valley, including a tuba (made from a mastodon tusk), a bagpipe (made from the bladder of a woolly
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