The Black Sun Conspiracy

Chapter Twenty-Three

The clock on the mantelpiece chimed the half hour. It display showed the time as half past ten. The street outside was silent and the only noises within the room were the crackling of the fire, the sound of Sam’s pen scratching across paper and the rattle of the keyboard as Nina worked on Purdue’s laptop. A few hours earlier she had raided the kitchen, thrown an assortment of ingredients together to make a thick, hearty soup. The aroma still lingered in the air.

“He’s not back yet.” Nina knew that she was stating the obvious, but she felt she had to say something.

“Want me to go and have a look for him?” Sam offered. “I’d say let’s go together, but you’d probably better not put any more strain on your ankle just now.”

Nina glanced at the clock again. “Hmm… I think we’d be better sticking together. We don’t have phones. If anything happens we’ve no way of figuring it out. Let’s give him until eleven. If he’s not back by then we’ll… I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”

She went back to tapping away on the keyboard. Sam poured out another tumbler of whisky for himself, then one for Nina. She thanked him and topped it up with a little water.

“I thought you took it neat?” Sam remarked. “I always remember that night when we were at Purdue’s and he offered me whisky and then asked what you wanted and you took it straight. The look on your face…”

Nina smiled. “Just my standard reaction to being treated like a girl. I like whisky, preferably with a few drops of water to bring out the flavors. I wouldn’t try it with ice again unless we find ourselves in another hot country — and hopefully it’ll be a long time before that happens. When we get home after this, that’ll be me finished with foreign travel for a while.”

Sam clinked his glass against hers. “You and me both,” he said, and turned his attention back to his writing. It was beginning to take shape. The chapters concerning Trish’s careful insinuating herself into Charles Whitsun’s world were nearly finished, painful as they had been to write. As Trish had finagled her way into parties and events to which Charles was invited, Sam had always been there in the background, witness and bodyguard, ready to protect her. Watching her flirt with the man had been difficult enough the first time around. Dredging up the memories now, after everything that had happened, was taxing to say the least.

The door swung open. Purdue nearly collapsed into the hallway, his face even paler than usual. Sam and Nina were on their feet like a shot, ready to prop him up and put him in the nearest chair.

“Are you hurt?” Nina demanded. “What happened?”

Purdue shook his head weakly. “Not hurt. Just exhausted.” He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, sinking back into the cushions. “Just let me rest for a while.”

Sam left Nina to pour him a drink and went into the kitchen. The soup was still warm in the pot. He ladled some into a bowl, tore off a hunk of bread and took them back to the fireside. “Here,” he said, handing the food to Purdue. “You look like you need it.”

In unspoken agreement, Sam and Nina both stayed quiet as Purdue ate, despite their impatience to know what had happened to him. What little color the billionaire had gradually returned to his cheeks. “Thank you,” he sighed as he finished the last bite. “I’ve had an exhausting evening.”

“Doing what?” Sam asked.

“Keeping us safe.” They waited for Purdue to say more, but he did not. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, holding his shoulder, the very same joint injured in their previous excursion together.

Nina rolled her eyes, frustrated. “We’re going to need a bit more information than that,” she said. “Who from? And how? And why are you hell-bent on doing all of this alone?”

Purdue’s brow furrowed as he considered whether to answer her questions. “Nina… Believe it or not, I would be very happy to tell you everything. But I am forced to admit that I am not, myself, in possession of all the facts.”

“Then tell us what you do know.”

“I wish I could,” he said, “but all I would achieve would be to confuse matters. There is more I need to learn before I can share anything useful, and I fear that saying too much prematurely might endanger you further. Besides, we must return to the Four Horsemen and retrieve the next part of the puzzle.”

Sam shook his head. “That’s not happening, Purdue. Look at yourself, you’re a wreck. You’re not going anywhere until you’ve had a decent rest. Would you be strong enough to dig even if you did go? Let’s see.”

The moment Purdue pulled off his shirt Sam could tell that the situation was not good. The scar where the knife had plunged into his pectoral muscle was still livid — not infected, but the shade of reddish-purple that suggested that there was a lot of healing still to be done. More alarming, though, was the difference in mass between one shoulder and the other. After being immobilized by the bandages for a while, Purdue had lost a great deal of strength on his right hand side. Even his upper arm was diminished. It looked painful, though Purdue hid his discomfort well.

‘Or maybe he’s not hiding it,’ Sam thought, noticing a cylindrical container sticking out of the pocket of the discarded shirt. As inconspicuously as he could, he tried to maneuver the shirt so that the container’s label was facing outwards.

“Don’t bother, Sam,” Purdue shot him a wry smile. “That’s one piece of information I will give you freely. It’s Tramadol. It has been necessary, from time to time, to keep the pain at bay. I promise you that I have been extremely careful to avoid developing any kind of dependence.”

“That settled it,” said Nina, “you’re staying here. We know where we’re going, it won’t take us long.”

Sam very nearly suggested that Nina was in no fit state to go out again either, but he recognized the expression on her face. He could tell that she was determined to get to the bottom of whatever Purdue was hiding and considered solving their latest puzzle an integral part of the process. To try to stop her now would be unwise. ‘Besides,’ he thought, ‘I’ll be happy to have her company.’

“Coming, Sam?” Nina already had her coat on. The shovel and small trowel that Purdue had dropped as he entered were in her hands.

Sam grabbed his jacket and followed her out of the door.