Catacombs of Terror! Read Online Free PDF Page B

running it, and I’d like to find out what it is that they’re looking for. For some reason. I’d like to know what they were looking for in the Circus in 1993. You know the Circus? It was the same group doing the dig there, as far as I know.”
    Kafka was writing in his notebook. This was probably the most encouraging thing that had happened to me all day. I looked at my watch. 2 A.M . Okay. I thought briefly about the wrap of coke back at the office. Yeah. I was going to be okay. No way was I getting arrested for a ritual murder in a premier tourist attraction. It would be problematic, to say the least. If it wasn’t a crock of shit. And that was something that was still out with the jury. Kafka’s next statement reminded me how far out the jury was.
    “You come in here, in this club, acting like some extremely low-rent Philip Marlowe, and you want me to find out about archaeologists? Archaeologists. Why don’t you just phone them? Shit, Valpolicella, how badly have you lost it?”
    “I don’t know. Possibly very badly. Possibly. But listen. I’ve been given a lot of questions and I’m suspicious of all of them. What I want now is a lot of answers that I can be suspicious of. Make sense?”
    “Mmm, I suppose. In a very strange way. Anything else, while I can still be bothered to write it down?”
    I stared at him, for a moment doubting myself. I tried to remember everything that the woman in the Star had said.
    “Yeah, well. There’s one other thing. If it isn’t too much . . . trouble. Could you find out who’s got the contract to run the city’s CCTV network?”
    Kafka threw his gaze from his notebook to me. “I just might. How urgent is this?”
    “Like I said, it seems I’m due to be arrested on Monday. For murder. Apparently. But, you know, it happens that I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks where my freedom’s concerned. And it’s Friday now. So it’s very urgent. It’s as soon as possible. Like, perhaps we go to my office now and log on to your employer’s database?” I was calm but insistent.
    “It’s late, Martin. But if it’s really that important . . . .”
    We were out of there inside three minutes. Kafka had to placate his ‘acquaintances,’ but I wasn’t concerned with that. We went back through the rain. I unlocked my office and dug out my cocaine. I had been looking forward to it, but I passed it to Kafka without whimpering too much. While I started up the computer and got it connected I heard him hoovering it up. The computer did its thing and then we were up and running.
    I told Kafka everything that I could remember about what the girl had told me in the Star. I told him about me and Karen. And about Barry. About the feeling I had that he was behind this. But how the hell could Barry frame me for murder?
    Kafka sniffed deeply and sat down in front of the computer. He tapped at the keyboard.
    “I’m in,” he muttered. He fished around in his pocket for his notebook. “Right, what have we got? Archaeological digs. CCTV. I’ll see what there is on the archaeological society . . . and Martin?”
    “Huh?”
    “What happened to your furniture?”

Chapter 6
Very Strange
    I woke up a couple hours later and stiffly lifted my head from the arm of the couch, grimacing with pain. A dull throbbing in my head was trying to annoy me. It was still dark outside. The desk light still cast its yellow pall over the room. I waited for the office to swim into focus, and saw that Kafka was gone. There were a couple of A4 printouts in front of me. No synapses were firing in my brain, so I hobbled across and made myself an instant coffee.
    I flicked a glance at the papers. Lots of writing. I slurped at my coffee. It was horrible. But I drank it. You’d have drunk it, too. This wasn’t the time for worrying about it.
    OK MARTIN, HERE’S WHAT I COULD FIND SO FAR. IF I FIND ANY MORE I’LL PHONE YOU. IT’S ALL A BIT WEIRD. NOT WHAT I EXPECTED. CALL ME AND TELL ME AGAIN WHAT EXACTLY