As the train slid smoothly along the tracks, Wyland perused the paperwork Connie had given him. Crom's case file was large: drug charges, assault charges, theft and racketeering charges, but the only conviction was for a bar brawl in Glasgow years ago, and marijuana possession. Oliver was clean, he had graduated from the University of Plymouth with a degree in engineering, and had hopped from job to job, but had remained at the quarry for the last three years.
Their father, Eustis Cunninghill, was a bureaucrat in Liverpool, and was filthy rich. He had owned major stakes in mineral rights to a large North Sea oil deposit, and had sold them right before oil prices fell a few years back. He appeared to have several private companies, one of which was heavily involved with supplying heavy equipment to Oakenfold rock quarry, where his two sons worked. He sat on a large and influential board of private investors. The board had investments all over the world, and counted among their ranks several billionaires and two national leaders: a former Governor of the island territory of Montserrat, and a former prime minister of East Timor. Wyland thought about these two countries, both small island nations that had seen more than their share of bad luck. He doubted these men were good people.
Eustis Cunninghill had been convicted of racketeering charges related to a diamond smuggling ring out of Nigeria, but the conviction was overturned on appeal, and he had spent less than two months in prison. Crom was named in the charge, but he was dropped from the case upon providing the alibi that he had been working for the quarry and had not been in contact with any of the smugglers, who had been based out of Glasgow and didn't recognize him when it came time to squeal.
Stephen McAlerod seemed like a normal guy, a truck driver out of Bristol for many years , then a heavy equipment operator for the quarry, before his untimely death. No brothers or sisters, his father was dead, and his mother, until yesterday, had lived in Winterbourne. No college, no marks on his record, no girlfriend. A note in his file stated that Crom and Stephen had been in "an altercation" at the quarry that had been "handled internally". Wyland assumed that it was this altercation that had lead to Stephen's death.
Stephen's internet search history that Connie had provided seemed familiar to Wyland. As part of the research for this case, he had searched many of the same terms, and clicked on the same links, as Stephen had in that final week of his life. Wyland felt the familiar sting of failure as he read through the links: "Modern curse words", "Ancient curse words", "Astrology", "How to brew potions", "What are curses?", "Curse words through history", on and on they went through all the new age crap, to old divination and soothsaying, and finally to Hermetics and ancient Hebrew lore, where Wyland himself had actually found some answers. He recognized the link for "The Star of Solomon", the book he had been reading on the plane, and was now stashed in his luggage. But Stephen had found more information than Wyland had. In particular, Stephen had clicked on an autobiography about a druid/hippie named "Ghena Lockflower" who wrote a book called "Tawelu Marwolaeth (Silencing Death), the death curse." He pulled out his laptop to search for this woman.
After some careful and painfully slow searching, he found the link. It was just a sales link for the book. But it also had a picture of the book. A rune, painted in exquisitely detailed silvery blue, shown on the book's cover. It looked almost exactly like the protection rune from the Star of Solomon. It could have been a broken figure eight laid on it's side, dead. It was almost like the infinity sign, but there was a break in one of the loops, and a sharp interior turn from a little spike of a flourish. If the figure was a head and a torso, like a snowman, it was lying on the ground, dead with a large bullet wound in it's head.
Tawelu Marwolaeth. The death curse. Alva's horrid song.
A shiver went through his spine.
Just a sales link for the book, though he found, as Stephen had, that one could download the book. So he downloaded it, though the WiFi on the train was excruciatingly slow.
He spent the rest of the ride sleeping while the book slowly downloaded.
No comments:
Post a Comment