Although he was only in
temporary charge, he now had the authority to fire her. He had insisted she
drop by the museum even though she had been given the day off by Bertram
Cromwell. Chances were high he was calling her in to relieve her of her
position as a cleaner.
She and JD arrived at the museum
to find a medical crew outside lifting a stretcher up onto the back of an
ambulance. The face of the person on the stretcher was concealed beneath a
green blanket. Beth could tell it was Bertram Cromwell. She didn’t need to see
the gory details. The sight of the blanket pulled over the face of the body was
enough to set her mind racing with all kinds of unpleasant images.
JD put his arm around her
shoulder and squeezed her in tight as they walked up the steps to the front
entrance of the museum. In doing so he shielded her from the sight of the body.
Having his arm around her shoulder made her feel safe, and warm too. She had a
blue cardigan on over her white T-shirt but with the sudden arrival of snow in
Santa Mondega the cardigan wasn’t offering as much warmth as usual. She could
feel the cold around her legs too because her black jeans had a few tears in
them and not for fashion reasons either. They were just bloody old and
knackered and she couldn’t afford a new pair. With her hair down and the wind
blowing it all over the place she actually had a rather cool grungy look going
on. She was quite pleased about that because it seemed to be a look that JD
liked. He was still wearing his
clothes from the night before, blue jeans, black T-shirt and black leather
jacket. Beth was hopeful that they looked like a well-matched couple. And
secretly she was keen for some of her colleagues to see the two of them
together.
Just inside the museum reception
area, one of the security guards rushed over. Beth knew him only as James. He
was a broad muscular fellow and like every other security guard that had ever
worked there his grey uniform looked a size too small. Maybe in his case it was
by choice because it looked like he wanted to show off his large pectorals. He
was a big guy in his early twenties with a blond wavy haircut and stupidly
large shoulders. A nightstick hung from a belt at his side, but in truth he
didn’t look like the kind who would need it. His fists were big enough to deal
with most things.
‘Beth, have you heard the news?’
he asked with a look of genuine concern on his face.
‘About Cromwell? Yes. Terrible,
isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. Shocked the hell out of
me.’ James seemed to suddenly notice that she wasn’t on her own. He stared at
JD for a second, then looked back at her, his face showing signs of confusion.
‘What you doing in today anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be off?’
‘Simmonds called me and asked me
to come and see him about something.’
James grimaced. ‘Oh. He’s in his
office. You can go straight in. He’s on his own.’
‘Where’s his office?’ Beth
asked. She couldn’t recall Simmonds ever having an office.
‘Cromwell’s old office. Down
there.’ James pointed down a corridor that Beth knew well. Her thoughts turned
back to Cromwell, one of the nicest men she’d ever met, in a city full of
horrible people. He had been the only person to make her feel welcome at the
museum. The thought of him being brutally slain by a psycho with a machete was
almost too much to bear. It made her more grateful than ever to have
rediscovered JD.
‘Poor Bertram,’ she sniffed,
feeling an outbreak of tears coming on. ‘He was such a nice man.’
‘Yeah. Simmonds will be a good
replacement though. He’s already got big plans for this place. He’s gonna have
a real shake up.’
Beth’s heart sank. Her time at
the museum was surely at an end. Simmonds, the high-flying, pony tailed,
scrotum scratching slimebag, didn’t like her. Cromwell had been her only ally
at the museum.
JD rubbed the small of her back.
‘Hey don’t worry, I’ll come with you,’ he offered.
‘You
temporary charge, he now had the authority to fire her. He had insisted she
drop by the museum even though she had been given the day off by Bertram
Cromwell. Chances were high he was calling her in to relieve her of her
position as a cleaner.
She and JD arrived at the museum
to find a medical crew outside lifting a stretcher up onto the back of an
ambulance. The face of the person on the stretcher was concealed beneath a
green blanket. Beth could tell it was Bertram Cromwell. She didn’t need to see
the gory details. The sight of the blanket pulled over the face of the body was
enough to set her mind racing with all kinds of unpleasant images.
JD put his arm around her
shoulder and squeezed her in tight as they walked up the steps to the front
entrance of the museum. In doing so he shielded her from the sight of the body.
Having his arm around her shoulder made her feel safe, and warm too. She had a
blue cardigan on over her white T-shirt but with the sudden arrival of snow in
Santa Mondega the cardigan wasn’t offering as much warmth as usual. She could
feel the cold around her legs too because her black jeans had a few tears in
them and not for fashion reasons either. They were just bloody old and
knackered and she couldn’t afford a new pair. With her hair down and the wind
blowing it all over the place she actually had a rather cool grungy look going
on. She was quite pleased about that because it seemed to be a look that JD
liked. He was still wearing his
clothes from the night before, blue jeans, black T-shirt and black leather
jacket. Beth was hopeful that they looked like a well-matched couple. And
secretly she was keen for some of her colleagues to see the two of them
together.
Just inside the museum reception
area, one of the security guards rushed over. Beth knew him only as James. He
was a broad muscular fellow and like every other security guard that had ever
worked there his grey uniform looked a size too small. Maybe in his case it was
by choice because it looked like he wanted to show off his large pectorals. He
was a big guy in his early twenties with a blond wavy haircut and stupidly
large shoulders. A nightstick hung from a belt at his side, but in truth he
didn’t look like the kind who would need it. His fists were big enough to deal
with most things.
‘Beth, have you heard the news?’
he asked with a look of genuine concern on his face.
‘About Cromwell? Yes. Terrible,
isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. Shocked the hell out of
me.’ James seemed to suddenly notice that she wasn’t on her own. He stared at
JD for a second, then looked back at her, his face showing signs of confusion.
‘What you doing in today anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be off?’
‘Simmonds called me and asked me
to come and see him about something.’
James grimaced. ‘Oh. He’s in his
office. You can go straight in. He’s on his own.’
‘Where’s his office?’ Beth
asked. She couldn’t recall Simmonds ever having an office.
‘Cromwell’s old office. Down
there.’ James pointed down a corridor that Beth knew well. Her thoughts turned
back to Cromwell, one of the nicest men she’d ever met, in a city full of
horrible people. He had been the only person to make her feel welcome at the
museum. The thought of him being brutally slain by a psycho with a machete was
almost too much to bear. It made her more grateful than ever to have
rediscovered JD.
‘Poor Bertram,’ she sniffed,
feeling an outbreak of tears coming on. ‘He was such a nice man.’
‘Yeah. Simmonds will be a good
replacement though. He’s already got big plans for this place. He’s gonna have
a real shake up.’
Beth’s heart sank. Her time at
the museum was surely at an end. Simmonds, the high-flying, pony tailed,
scrotum scratching slimebag, didn’t like her. Cromwell had been her only ally
at the museum.
JD rubbed the small of her back.
‘Hey don’t worry, I’ll come with you,’ he offered.
‘You
Similar Books
