Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 37

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Constance Caraway P.I. ~ Episode 37

…Instead of empty, #39666 is a castle adorned in gleaming gold, sparkling silver and precious gems…

“I’ll take your word for it. Can we leave?” Eddie D. pleads.

“No, I have one more office to check.” Constance insists.

This suite has a different feel from the outside. The door knob for one is freezing. None of the others were colder than the unoccupied ambient temperature of 55 degrees. She uses the hem of her sweater to tolerate the icy handle. One easy counterclockwise turn and the door swings open, “Eddie!” she summons her timid pal.

Their jaws drop with unadulterated amazement. Instead of empty, #39666 is a castle adorned in gleaming gold, sparkling silver and precious gems. It is not arranged at all like an office, rather a chamber of unknown purpose. The temperature beyond the door, matches that of the knob.

“This feels like a meat locker, Con.”

“We have the golden calves, and golden rams, silver falcons and wolves?” Everything is arranged like a diorama, each piece purposely placed. “And what about this, she points at one particular golden statue. Aren’t those the three smokestacks from Argonne?”

“Yeah and look at these. They look like real people to me?” Eddie is shivering on multiple levels.

Constance knows there may be clues in this glistening fantasyland, but she expedites their stay in the room for the time being, leaving the door ajar.

The haunting phantom voices have hushed, but the dead heavy air around them is beating down her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Let’s get out of here before the owner returns. I don’t think he would be pleased to see us.”

She presses the lone down arrow and the middle elevator responds to take them down,

“Who exactly is the tenant of a place like this?”

“I’ll be damned if I know. We can come back later… with reinforcements.”

Once a safe distance away, Constance is getting warm, or at least warmer, on the inside.  The castles she has visited lately do not seem like welcoming places to be.

Constance Caraway P.I.

Burg Scharfenberg at Night by Ernst Ferdinand Oehme, 1827

Forever Mastadon

page 36 (end Ch. 3)

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