Denver Cereal Denver Cereal

Chapter Five Hundred and forty-four : Who is to blame? (part one)


(part one)

“They’re digging a well at my mother’s house today,” the medical examiner said. “Is that a bribe?”

“Likely,” Pierre said with a chuckle.

The medical examiner laughed. He pointed to Pierre.

“You’re funny,” the medical examiner said.

“Overwhelmed,” Pierre said. “I tend to bluff through humor.”

“I bet,” the medical examiner said. “How are you going to get these bodies home?”

“I’m flying them to Denver,” Pierre said. “I’ll fly them home to France tomorrow.”

“And all of their crap?” the medical examiner asked.

“Crap?” Pierre asked.

“Gear, swords, armor,” the medical examiner said. “Knights-of-old crap.”

“It will come with me,” Pierre said.

“Can’t do it,” the medical examiner said. “It’s still a part of the investigation.”

“Then I’ll come back and get it,” Pierre said.

“Why you?” the medical examiner asked.

“My family is the weapons’ masters for the Templars,” Pierre said.

“That’s what I was looking for,” the medical examiner said. “I couldn’t figure out why you had to take care of all of this. Being a weapons’ master isn’t a high ranking position?”

“No,” Pierre said with a grin. “We took independence rather than status.”

“Why?” the medical examiner asked.

“My family has been making weapons since people first put rocks to metal,” Pierre said. “Movements come and go. Weapons are always in demand.”

“So you could make weapons for people on both sides of a fight?” the medical examiner asked.

“It has happened,” Pierre said.

“How’d you get here to the US?” the medical examiner asked.

“I married the princess,” Pierre said.

“Oh I see,” the medical examiner said with a chuckle. “You’re not only a low ranking member of this little club, you pissed off the head of the group.”

“The head of the group is sitting in a drawer back there,” Pierre said. “My guess is that he’s not pissed anymore. At least I hope not.”

The medical examiner rewarded Pierre with a quick smile at his joke. Recovering himself, the medical examiner looked down at the paperwork on his desk.

“You know all of these men to make the identifications?” the medical examiner asked.

“Grew up with most of them,” Pierre said. “As you can imagine, it’s a small club. Some were young …”

“Six under thirty,” the medical examiner said.

“My sister sent their pictures and identifying images,” Pierre said. “I may not have met them, but I know their parents.”

“Your sister,” the medical examiner said. “She knows everyone?”

Pierre nodded. The medical examiner looked at Pierre for a long moment.

“You get revenge on dear old dad?” the medical examiner asked.

“Not my style,” Pierre said. “Plus I was in Denver recovering from a hip replacement.”

Pierre gestured to the crutch next to his chair.

“If I’d known they were going to secretly attack my son’s partner and his family, I would have called the police at the very least,” Pierre said.

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow…

Next: Chapter Five Hundred and forty-four : Who is to blame? (part two)

Previous: Chapter Five Hundred and forty-three : Enter the police (part six)

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