Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 2569

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike, est. 2007)
Part 2569
by Angharad

Copyright© 2015 Angharad

  
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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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Right wing Christian group—who this time? Why are they picking on me, there are loads of transgender people in academia, health care and local government. Serving others is what we do—not like some soft porn fiction—but educating, healing and making sure you get a vote, that sort of stuff.

Americans have quite a few bizarre right wing Christian groups as well. Only the other day I listened to a senior Republican senator visiting the UK sidestep a question on evolution asked by a BBC journalist. It astonished me, this guy was avoiding it like he was being asked if he was communist or gay. Evolution is a theory based on factual observation and loads of evidence. Creationism is a myth based on...um...thin air? Perhaps they’re after me for my outspokenness or just for being me—not that I could be anyone else.

There was little point in worrying who was investigating me this time until I knew more about them. I didn’t know whether I should mention it to Simon and Tom, or Stella and the older girls. It feels quite convoluted that someone who is being paid to investigate me should end up being killed by someone else who he blundered across. I wondered how he could investigate me as we’d only met once or twice, unless he was doing it by talking to my colleagues or students. In which case I would hope he wouldn’t get much help with regard to finding negatives as I seem blessed with very loyal students and colleagues. I’m sure some feel resentful that I’m working as a professor when I’m much younger than they are, or resent that the school of biological sciences seems to dominating the university at the present.

Then we have the apparent takeover of the council before our little rebellion returned the status quo. The university belongs to its students, teachers, admin staff, alumnae and sponsors plus anyone else I’ve forgotten. The council might run it but only on behalf of those aforementioned groups; like a government runs a country on behalf of the electorate—I know they forget that until just before an election—but in a democracy, that’s what happens. I sometimes refer to this country as a police state. In some ways it is, but mostly it isn’t, either that or it’s more subtle than I thought and I’d still rather live here than Iran or even the US.

I was thinking of turning in when the phone rang. I answered it and Jim’s voice asked me to open the back door. He sounded in pain. Simon undid the door and just caught Jim as he stumbled inside, collapsing in Simon’s arms. I discovered he’d been stabbed when we laid him down and examined him. He insisted we didn’t take him to A&E or call the paramedics. Instead, I called Stella down and she sutured him to close up the wound.

“He really should be seen by a doctor,” she said after stitching him up.

“I’ll be fine,” said Jim, all bravado and piss.

She irrigated the wound with antiseptic before sticking on a large dressing. He didn’t half swear at her for that. She only did it to try and prove that it would hurt and reduce his nonchalance. It certainly appeared to achieve the latter.

The wound was quite deep but made by a small blade. A couple of inches lower and he’d have died from a kidney injury—like bleeding to death. Thankfully, his assailant was either an amateur, not very good or sending him a warning.

I let him sleep, plying him with healing as he did so. I tried to link with his memory of the incident but he blocked me in some way. Perhaps his military training—I had no idea, having been no nearer to things military than watching the band of the Royal Marines parade through Portsmouth after one of their ships returned from a long stint in the Gulf.

I double checked the alarms and the locks before retiring for the night. I did think about cleaning up his car, as there was likely to be blood on the seat, but in the dark it didn’t seem a good idea.

Simon helped him up to the spare bed and we left him to sleep, turning in ourselves just afterwards. As we snuggled down together, Si asked what was going on. Okay, he asked a little more colourfully, but the question was essentially the same. Sadly, my answer would have been the same, woefully inadequate. I was relying on Jim for information and he was somewhat indisposed.

“Let me get this straight, two people have been murdered at the university, one of who was investigating you for some covert right wing Christian group. Jim seems to think the lab tech was investigating you but found something else and before he could tell anyone, someone bashed his brains out. Then while Jim is following someone, who may or may not be associated with this case, the silly bugger gets himself stabbed in the back and barely makes it back here before collapsing. Is that about right?”

“Yep, that’s about it. We don’t know if the two things are related but it will be very strange if they’re not.”

“Which two are we relating, the murders or Jim’s little perforation?”

“Okay, all three—but don’t you dare start the Spanish Inquisition sketch, or I’ll make it body number three.”

“Ooh, as if I would,” he said sounding like Julian Clary. If he could have seen me, I’d have scowled at him, instead I just prodded him hard. “Ouch,” he added to my act of violence.

After a short pause, he asked, “So what do we do now?”

“Nothing until we get the latest from Jim.”

“He might well have forgotten it all by now.”

“That’s the chance we have to take. He’s seriously hurt so we just have to wait and see.”

“Don’t you have any other leads?”

“Only one for the dog.”

“Very funny—I don’t think.”

“It’s very frustrating because as soon as someone seems to have any sort of evidence, something befalls them.”

“You mean someone takes them out?”

“Probably.”

“How are you going to protect Jimmy boy?”

“It’s half term next week, I’m home with the kids, we’ll just have to manage. We don’t know that they know he’s working for me or that they know he ran here for help.”

“No we don’t, but it’s quite an assumption that they don’t.”

“I know, plus that Lorraine woman is supposed to be starting on Monday.”

“Who?”

“The two housekeepers we appointed.”

“Ah, can we trust them?”

“I sincerely hope so.”

“Can’t you ask her to start a week later—pay her all the same.”

“No, the whole point was help for me, with half term, it would be essential.”

“Even if she becomes another body to have to protect?”

“You’re jumping to all sorts of conclusions. We don’t know the group that Black was working for mean me any harm.”

“No just your assured destruction by reputation or possibly physically.”

“That’s speculation, Si.”

“But what have you that’s says anything different?”

“I’m still alive.”

“Is that simply because they hadn’t finished setting up some sort of hit when Black got hit instead?”

“Okay, I’ll take extra care next week.”

“You better had, kiddo, and watch those kids of ours, too.”

“As if...”

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Comments

This just keeps

on getting stranger. Be interesting to hear Jim's story. Does Cathy get a discount on his rate for the medical services?

The is something way more

The is something way more sinister going on than just a right wing nutjob group invetigatiing for being TG. "Follow the money" is the right mantra. Who has it and where is it, that is the questions to be answered? Then Cathy, Simon and the police will know all. Janice

What ?

So someone stabs him but uses a small knife. Perhaps someone with insanely righteous indignation but with no experience at killing? A fundamentalist nutter perhaps? How ever who ever killed the lab tech knew what he was doing.

Cathy been practicing her crossbow skills?

Gwen

Well,well,well.

Well, well, well. And I don't mean three holes in the ground.

This is great writing Ang. I look forward to following this twisting tale. As Arthur Conan Doyle wrote:

'It is a capital mistake to theorize before you have all the evidence. It biases the judgement.' -A Study in Scarlet

I still love this story

Love to all

Anne G.

A right proper murder mystery

Podracer's picture

Audience and players alike denied sufficient clues to determine the real plot. Speculation is all we have left, which at least is entertaining and exercises the brain.
Jim getting hurt is surprising to me, I thought him wise to the ways of violence and intrigue, perhaps not prepared for the randomness of the amateur or nutjob.

"Reach for the sun."

Down, down, -

deeper n' down.
It's going to take some digging and delving to get to the bottom of this. Good luck Cathy.

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