This choice: Reynard finds one more clue before the police get there. • Go Back...
Chapter #8
The search is on...
by: Unknown
Shifting away from the body Reynard stood back a little bit and scanned the area around the corpse for anything that might seem out of place. The only problem with the crime scene being in the middle of the desert is that of all the sand, sand had a nasty habit of preserving any likely clues underneath itself. "The perfect crime scene." He whispered to himself.
Reynard turned to Beatrice who had now taken up residence on a stone quite a way from the body, she was taking a sip from her water bottle and wiping the tears from her eyes. He felt sorry for his PA, she was an innocent when it came to the horrors of the world and Reynard had a sneaky suspicion Bea had a soft spot for dear Peter. It must be hard for her to deal with.
From his suitcase Reynard extracted a brush, he had decided to treat this like he would his work. That was the only way he was going to find anything of value, and he had some time to kill before the Suez police would be here. Careful not to disturb the body, he didn't want to ruin any DNA evidence, Reynard knelt down in the sand and began brushing away the golden grit from around Peter that had obviously gathered up over him in the harsh winds of the desert overnight. He moved efficiently and conscientiously around the body, digging a little deeper with his hands if anything seemed amiss. He was about to finish when his fingers felt something hard beneath Peter's right leg. Reynard chucked his brush to one side and shifted the dead weight of Peter's leg away from the area. Pushing the sand away his fingers wrapped themselves around something cold, it felt like cardboard. Pulling the offending piece of evidence from it's hiding place Reynard sat back on his bottom to examine it.
It was a matchbox from a hotel in Suez. The White Hall. He recognised the name, he was sure he must have stayed there on a previous dig. It was quite the swanky joint, it was quite popular with the tourists. The matchbox though wasn't just an ordinary freebie though, in gold leaf the letters V.I.P shimmered in the sunlight.
"Have you found anything professor?" The shadow of Beatrice poured over him blocking out the distinctive letters he had just seen.
Copyright 2000 - 2025 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.09 seconds at 8:43am on Apr 30, 2025 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
