‘Thanks.’
She hung up and crossed the thirty-second name off the list. Her mobile pinged.
No luck. –Toby
Maybe Gus was from interstate? Maybe he didn’t have any family. Or maybe he had changed his name. Or used a fake one.
Bee heard footsteps on the porch and looked up, expecting to see her mother come in the front door. But she didn’t. There were voices outside, low voices, and the occasional laugh from Angela.
Bee wondered what a Celestial Badger looked like once it had taken on human form.
The talking stopped, and Bee couldn’t hear anything. She pulled a face. Was her mother making out with the Badger ? What if she invited him in? Bee hurried into her bedroom, closing the door and climbing into bed without brushing her teeth.
She listened carefully as the front door opened and closed, but she didn’t hear any more voices, and only one set of footsteps walked into Angela’s bedroom. Bee breathed a sigh of relief.
Toby was late again on Tuesday morning. Bee had a lizard propped up on a series of blocks as she carefully inserted pins in its face to keep its eyes open and its mouth in the correct shape for freeze-drying. The lizard looked like an acupuncture patient.
Bee contemplated Gus’s empty desk. How could a man just disappear? It was as if he had never existed, and only her memory and a one-page CV were left.
Or were they?
Bee pushed her chair away from her desk and rolled over to Gus’s. His desk may have been cleared, but Bee couldn’t believe she hadn’t looked in his drawer. She pulled it open, her heart thumping.
The drawer contained the following:
• Two scalpels, sizes 3 and 4
• Six scalpel blades, sizes 10–22
• Scissors, both bull-nosed and fine-pointed
• Fine-pointed forceps
• Electrical-wire cutters
• A box containing various needles, curved and straight
• Dressmaking pins
• Assorted balls of string, cotton and fishing wire
• A yellow canvas tape measure
• Metal wire of varying thicknesses
• A white chinagraph pencil
• A small box of nails
• Bead glue
• A lump of paraffin wax
• A box of acrylic paints
• Three small paintbrushes, tied together with a rubber band.
Bee sighed. Nothing even remotely clue-like.
‘What exactly are you hoping to find in there?’
Bee jumped. Adrian Featherstone was standing in the doorway to the taxidermy lab, his eyes slitted in suspicion.
‘Scissors,’ said Bee, swallowing. ‘Mine are blunt.’
Adrian Featherstone didn’t reply, and Bee realised he must have already gone through Gus’s drawer before she’d seen him yesterday. But why? What had he been looking for? Had he found it? Did he think that Gus had been murdered as well?
Adrian peered at her face as if he were looking for something. ‘You didn’t notice anything . . . out of the ordinary, did you? Before Gus died?’
Bee shook her head. Actually, there were a number of things she had noticed that were out of the ordinary, but she wasn’t inclined to share them with Adrian Featherstone. He was the most suspicious thing she had encountered yet.
‘Gus was a good friend of mine,’ Adrian Featherstone said, taking a step towards Bee. ‘A very good friend. I simply don’t believe he would kill himself. So if there’s anything you noticed that you think would help shed light on his death . . .’
Bee’s eyes widened. ‘You think someone killed him?’
‘No, no,’ said Featherstone, looking suddenly uncomfortable. ‘No need to be so melodramatic. I just wish I could understand why he did it. Did he ever mention anyone to you? Any friends or family?’
‘He never mentioned you ,’ said Bee blandly. ‘Shouldn’t you know about his friends and family? Given that he was such a very good friend ?’
Adrian Featherstone looked as if he wanted to shake her. Something was going on here. Bee was about to press him further when Toby arrived, apologising loudly for his lateness. He grinned at Featherstone.
‘Hi Adrian,’ he
She hung up and crossed the thirty-second name off the list. Her mobile pinged.
No luck. –Toby
Maybe Gus was from interstate? Maybe he didn’t have any family. Or maybe he had changed his name. Or used a fake one.
Bee heard footsteps on the porch and looked up, expecting to see her mother come in the front door. But she didn’t. There were voices outside, low voices, and the occasional laugh from Angela.
Bee wondered what a Celestial Badger looked like once it had taken on human form.
The talking stopped, and Bee couldn’t hear anything. She pulled a face. Was her mother making out with the Badger ? What if she invited him in? Bee hurried into her bedroom, closing the door and climbing into bed without brushing her teeth.
She listened carefully as the front door opened and closed, but she didn’t hear any more voices, and only one set of footsteps walked into Angela’s bedroom. Bee breathed a sigh of relief.
Toby was late again on Tuesday morning. Bee had a lizard propped up on a series of blocks as she carefully inserted pins in its face to keep its eyes open and its mouth in the correct shape for freeze-drying. The lizard looked like an acupuncture patient.
Bee contemplated Gus’s empty desk. How could a man just disappear? It was as if he had never existed, and only her memory and a one-page CV were left.
Or were they?
Bee pushed her chair away from her desk and rolled over to Gus’s. His desk may have been cleared, but Bee couldn’t believe she hadn’t looked in his drawer. She pulled it open, her heart thumping.
The drawer contained the following:
• Two scalpels, sizes 3 and 4
• Six scalpel blades, sizes 10–22
• Scissors, both bull-nosed and fine-pointed
• Fine-pointed forceps
• Electrical-wire cutters
• A box containing various needles, curved and straight
• Dressmaking pins
• Assorted balls of string, cotton and fishing wire
• A yellow canvas tape measure
• Metal wire of varying thicknesses
• A white chinagraph pencil
• A small box of nails
• Bead glue
• A lump of paraffin wax
• A box of acrylic paints
• Three small paintbrushes, tied together with a rubber band.
Bee sighed. Nothing even remotely clue-like.
‘What exactly are you hoping to find in there?’
Bee jumped. Adrian Featherstone was standing in the doorway to the taxidermy lab, his eyes slitted in suspicion.
‘Scissors,’ said Bee, swallowing. ‘Mine are blunt.’
Adrian Featherstone didn’t reply, and Bee realised he must have already gone through Gus’s drawer before she’d seen him yesterday. But why? What had he been looking for? Had he found it? Did he think that Gus had been murdered as well?
Adrian peered at her face as if he were looking for something. ‘You didn’t notice anything . . . out of the ordinary, did you? Before Gus died?’
Bee shook her head. Actually, there were a number of things she had noticed that were out of the ordinary, but she wasn’t inclined to share them with Adrian Featherstone. He was the most suspicious thing she had encountered yet.
‘Gus was a good friend of mine,’ Adrian Featherstone said, taking a step towards Bee. ‘A very good friend. I simply don’t believe he would kill himself. So if there’s anything you noticed that you think would help shed light on his death . . .’
Bee’s eyes widened. ‘You think someone killed him?’
‘No, no,’ said Featherstone, looking suddenly uncomfortable. ‘No need to be so melodramatic. I just wish I could understand why he did it. Did he ever mention anyone to you? Any friends or family?’
‘He never mentioned you ,’ said Bee blandly. ‘Shouldn’t you know about his friends and family? Given that he was such a very good friend ?’
Adrian Featherstone looked as if he wanted to shake her. Something was going on here. Bee was about to press him further when Toby arrived, apologising loudly for his lateness. He grinned at Featherstone.
‘Hi Adrian,’ he
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