‘Guys, guess what. You know Charles Bradshaw? The black market smuggler?’
Julius interrupted him. That was too much. ‘We're friends and colleagues, Miles, not pundits. Charles is a curator and buyer that works in the field, recovering and retrieving lost or damaged artefacts. He is not a 'black market smuggler' for God’s sake.’
Miles shot him a quick scowl, but recovered. ‘Oh, hi Julius, yes I forgot, you two went to school together, didn't you?’ He managed to say it in a way that implied that old school ties would naturally blind a person to a friend’s failings, or that the old school ties would be so strong that any wrongdoing would be simply ignored. It was a stock in trade catch-all for the gutter press when they wanted to dismiss a person's supporters.
‘Well, I think this might change your mind. He's dead!’
Miles was gratified by the reaction of his audience and continued.
‘Gunned down in a hail of bullets!’
‘What?’ Julius felt cold.
‘Drive-by shooting in London. He and another man were the clear targets. Police are baffled.’
‘My God!’ said Dan, looking at Julius with concern.
‘I know. Police want to talk to a suspicious man who was seen talking to the driver of the car just minutes earlier. A man of Arabic appearance was also seen administering first-aid in the café itself. He's disappeared! Police have not yet ruled out terrorism.’
Julius felt sick. Miles was talking in sensationalist headlines about one of his oldest friends. ‘Excuse me.’
‘Oh dear, bit too real world for you? Locked away in your ivory tower?’
‘For Christ’s sake, Miles,’ said Wendy, ‘Julius and Charles didn't just go to the same school, they were friends. He was in town just the other day.’
Miles was instantly alert. ‘Got a quote? How are you feeling? When you spoke to him the other day, did you have an impending sense of doom?’
Julius stood up. He needed to get away from Miles' poisonous glee; the words were running into black oily sludge and he needed some fresh air.
‘Mate. You can be off the record? What about an exclusive...’
Julius was already heading out of the dining hall and sat down on one of the benches beneath a stand of trees. He caught his breath and sat with his head in his hands, trying not to be sick. Charlie might have been loud and frustrating and often annoying, but he was also fun and kind and interesting, and he absolutely didn't deserve to be killed. Despite Julius’ scepticism, it would appear that Charlie must have actually been on the track of the Fabergé egg. In fact, it seems that he was not just on the trail, but that he might have actually found the egg. Why would he have been shot if he didn't have it?
Instead of wildly speculating, he returned to his study and opened the BBC news pages. Hopefully, there would be no salacious comments or vivid photos. Julius didn't think he could cope with actual graphics of his friend's final moments. Reading the news, he was appalled by the brutality of the attack.
A drive-by shooting had occurred in the morning at a small London café. Two male victims were at the same table and, as yet, not formally identified. Other people injured in the attack were stable and recovering in hospital. The car involved in the shooting was found dumped nearby and the assailants had disappeared. As yet, the reason for the shooting was unclear. Eyewitness reports suggested that one of the men in the car grabbed a bag from one of the two men at the table. The BBC article stressed that this had not been confirmed by the police.
Julius sat back. This still seemed unreal, and he needed to try to understand what had happened. Closing down his computer, he decided to head home and pick up his spare keys for Charlie’s flat. Maybe he could find some clues there.
Leaning his bike against his front window, he found a note had been pushed through his letterbox asking him to contact the police to assist them in an on-going enquiry. He was surprised at the speed of contact, but it was a dramatic event. Whatever Hollywood would have its audience believe, drive-by shootings were extremely rare occurrences, even in London. No doubt the police were already heading to his workplace to see if they could find him there. He considered going back to work or calling them, but he decided to check out Charlie’s flat first. After all, if he discovered anything, he'd be able to give the police more information to help them track down Charlie’s murderers. He knew the police wouldn’t tell him anything, and that wasn’t good enough. Julius wanted answers.
#14 Neith – Beta Earth
‘What the fuck. I mean what the actual fuck?’
We were all sat around the table in our hotel room. I hate it when a mission includes dead people. It happens, I know it happens, but it always, without fail, feels like a catastrophic failure. Here we are in the business of collecting unique treasures, and we lose two people right in front of us. Obviously, saving the inhabitants on Beta Earth is not our remit, and besides, that would be a task of Sisyphean proportions. But still, to see them dying up front and personal, pumping out blood is never great.
‘I still don't understand how it got out of our control so quickly,’ said Clio. Acting as backstop, she had no eyes on the situation but she had her head-piece in, as we all did.
‘The thing is Clio, we had no warning and the thing about that is, and I'm desperately trying not to look at Paul right now. But seriously Paul? Did the big fast, noisy car just tiptoe past you?’
‘Of course I saw it. It just didn't seem suspicious.’ Paul got up and was pacing around the room.
‘And on reflection? How suspicious did it seem a minute
