Once outside Farley’s office door I hear a series of bolts slide shut. I say “I guess he meant it.” Regi says “He was always a recluse.”
Why didn’t you tell me your father was a twin?” “You never asked.” Regi leans heavily on my arm. She says “I’ve bled all over my blouse.”
We stand in a long, curved Body Parts R Us hospital corridor reminiscent of the spaceship in 2001: A Space Odyssey, but without the charm.
There is no logic to this hospital’s layout. To find your destination, you just walk about randomly. “I don’t know where to go to get help.”
“Doesn’t matter. Walk ’til we find a doctor.” “I have bad memories of this place.” “This is where I first found you flat on your back.”
We stand by a nondescript hospital room. As we look a man in t-shirt and shorts jogs past us. Before we react he vanishes around the corner.
I was brought here insensible after attempting parallel universe parking without a license: that is, parking my car in two spaces at once.
My mind drifts back to when Regi found me catheter and IV line tethered, prepped for cosmetic surgery to repair my bee-sting damaged face.
I ran afoul an enormous swarm of bees that congregated around Lavender Blue Dilly Dilly’s surplus perfume storage vats. I looked terrible.
I looked worse than I felt I looked. In any case Regi didn’t recognize me as the detective interviewed on TV concerning her father’s murder.
Expertly if abruptly disengaging me from IV and catheter, Regi then engaged in my detecting of the instigator of Willum Granger’s severance.
To our surprise, Granger’s assassin was not only the former head of Body Parts R Us surgery but also the current police department Coroner!
Gazing at the empty hospital bed I realize how tired I am. Regi says “Arkaby, still with us?” I say “I’m here. Let’s get you patched up.”
The man in t-shirt and shorts jogs past again. We continue along the corridor, past sarcophagi and a large red scanning eye to an infirmary
The nurse at the infirmary counter glances at Regi’s bloody blouse and says “Can I help you?” “My friend needs medical attention.” “Uh huh.”
She rolls up Regi’s sleeve. “This is a bullet wound. Has Farley been shooting at things again?” “Huh? Just an accident.” “I don’t think so.”
Regi says “Uncle Farley didn’t mean to shoot me.” “You’re his niece? Who did he mean to shoot?” I say “Me.” “Who are you?” “Call me Arkaby.”
“I’m a detective.” “A police detective? Why don’t you arrest his trigger-happy ass?” “I’m on suspension. I will phone it in.” “Uh huh.”
“Why are you suspended?” Regi says “He let my father’s killer lock us in a city morgue freezer while he escaped.” “How did you get unfrozen?”
“My mother freed us and thawed us out.” “Your mother is also with the police?” “No. She’s a beekeeper.” The nurse finishes Regi’s bandage.
I say “I have a question.” “Does it have to do with how to follow proper police procedure?” “No.” “Figures.” “Where are all your patients?”
(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)