Out of Time

by Steven Allinson

Neil left the Grayson house confused and subdued. He did not know if anything discussed had been of any help at all.

  Artimus on the other hand was buoyant. As soon as they were back on the road to London, he attached Neil’s phone to the car, and rang Dawn.

  “Hello there dear. How are our jobs progressing?”

  “Slowly.” said Dawn, the car’s tiny speakers giving her voice even more vibrancy than usual. “It’ll be the end of today before we have any of your items back. I’m sorry.”

  “Never apologise for doing your best dear.” said Artimus, opening his notepad and running through his notes. “I have some items to add to that list I’m afraid.”

  “No problem.” said Dawn. “What do we need?”

  “I need to know the financial status, including trust funds and pensions, of Mister Grayson’s parents. Also, I need a run down on any large transactions made in the last four years by Mister Grayson’s brother, Noel.”

  “Sure. Anything else?”

  “Quite a bit, I’m sorry.” said Artimus tossing pages back and forth.

  “Never apologise for doing your best.” said Dawn, with a chuckle.

  “Very good.” said Artimus, smirking. “I need to know how many steroid injections Missus Grayson was given for a bout of Bell’s palsy about seven years ago. I also need to know if the doses were medically administered or self-administered. Plus, and this is a tricky one, I need you to contact Officer Leeks for any notes she may have taken from conversations with Alanis Grayson. If they are limited or non-existent, I will need you to organise for a child councillor visit to the residence of Noel Grayson so Alanis can be interviewed separately. If it is required, I will send a list of the specific questions I need answers to.”

  “You don’t think the girl knows something, do you?” said Dawn, worry in her voice.

  “The child is clearly not involved, but as to whether she knows anything, only time will tell.” said Artimus, scanning the pages one last time. “Oh yes, and can you contact Cambridge University and get details of any amateur dramatic groups or societies the Grayson’s may have been involved with during their time there? I’d try the president of the Cambridge Footlights first. Mister Grayson is forty-one, so I’d assume Sue Perkins or Mark Evans would be reasonable starting points.”

  “The actors?” said Dawn.

  “Sue is not generally regarded as an actor, nor Mark anymore for that matter, but they would have been Footlight presidents about the time the Grayson’s were at Cambridge.” said Artimus, shrugging to no-one in particular. “I’m only trying to help, and those people can surely not be too difficult to track down and ask.”

  “We can do that.” said Dawn. “I’ll give John the financial stuff and I’ll…”

  “Can we do our best to navigate around the high tide of Mister Bardsley’s mental instability if at all possible? I would actually like responses that make sense.”

  “No can do, I’m afraid.” said Neil. “Wordy is on this case with you for better or worse. You can’t just leave him out of the loop. What would DCI Blackwater think?”

  Neil knew Wordy had bothered Artimus, and seeing the look on his face to the rebuttal told Neil everything he needed to know about how that made him feel. Score one for me, he thought.

  “It looks like we’re stuck with John’s assistance, as Neil says.” said Artimus, deflated. “Please try to keep him on the straight and narrow dear.”

  “Will do Artimus.” said Dawn.

  After ending the call, Artimus played absently with his pen for a few minutes, before finally turning to Neil. “I assume I have upset you?”

  “What gives you that idea?” said Neil, his anger at Artimus bubbling to the surface again.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” said Artimus, the cheeriness stripped from his voice. “The fact you are on the verge of asking to be removed from this case maybe.”

  “How the hell could you have worked that out?” said Neil, raising his voice.

  “You said ‘Wordy is on this case with you for better or worse’, not us. It’s simple if you listen.”

  “That’s why I’m thinking of ditching this shit!” said Neil, beginning to lose control. “You supercilious, arrogant twat!”

  “Supercilious and arrogant mean the same thing Neil. If you are going to insult an intelligent man, try not to sound stupid doing it.”

  “Fuck me!” shouted Neil, trying desperately to retain his fury. “You just don’t see how irritating you are, do you?”

  “I’m fully aware my personality has its sharp edges, just as yours does. However, I understand the reason for my difficult nature, whereas you have never dealt with your sexuality, so don’t.”

  “There you go a-fucking-gain! I’m not bastard gay.”

  “Bastard gay? Horrible adjective use, but I suppose you are angry, so I will let you off. You are a very excitable young man, are you not? You do know that is the first true sign of…”

  Neil had heard enough. He slammed the brakes on, swerving into a gravel layby and stepping from the car. Rounding the bonnet, he flung the passenger door open, grabbed Artimus by the jacket, and dragged him out.

  “Tell me I’m gay again.” Neil snarled, fists clenched and ready to fly. “I fucking dare you.”

  Artimus straightened his tweed, brushing his hair into a neat line across his brow. “OK.” he said, nodding calmly. “You’re gay.”

  Neil lunged at Artimus and threw a punch. To his surprise, Artimus did not even flinch as he sidestepped the blow, bringing his own fist up into Neil’s chin and sending him sprawling into the dirt on his back.

  “I dare Mister Townsend, because I have the ability to dare.” said Artimus, standing over Neil. “Now, have you quite finished trying to measure the size of my gonads?”

  Neil shook off his fuddle and gave a swipe of his leg, trying to knock Artimus off-balance.

  Artimus’ stoic expression never changed as he nimbly bounded the leg and booted Neil in his exposed groin, hard.

  “I ask again, more out of pity than want, are you finished?” said Artimus, offering Neil a hand.

  “Who the fuck are you?” said Neil, refusing to take the offer and slowly righting.

  “I am the best and worst person you could ever meet Mister Townsend.” said Artimus, his expression unchanged. “I know because I have done, I understand because I have had to, and I will kill you if you attempt anything so imprudent ever again.” He advanced on Neil, glaring at him in a way that chilled his core. “Test me Neil. I fucking dare you.”

  “Why Henry holds you in such high esteem, I don’t know.” said Neil, shambling round to the driver’s side of the car.

  “Read the damn file I gave you, Neil. I told you everything you needed to know was in there. Until that point, I have nothing to tell you you would understand anyway.”

  “I’m still asking to be taken off the case.” said Neil, climbing back into the car.

  “Do as you will.” said Artimus, joining him in the vehicle. “I have greatly enjoyed our partnership, and believe you could be more than just a better than average detective if you would only listen, but what do I know. Oh, that’s right,” Artimus turned as he spoke, looking Neil straight in the eye. “way more than fucking you do! You may now take us the workplace of Mister Grayson any time you wish.”

  Neil started the car and set off, the throbbing in his groin a distraction to his concentration he struggled to control.

  Who was the man by his side. A drunkard? A billionaire? A boxing champ? A fucking know-it-all? There were so many questions, but did he actually want to know the answers? What was in that file? How could one case explain everything about a man so complicated? Was it even a real case?

  Neil glanced at Artimus, snapping his head back when the action was noticed. Fuck it. Go with the first choice made. In the morning, he would visit Henry and ask to be removed from the case. That was it. To hell with answers. Just be polite and courteous to him for what remained of the day. He did not want to kno
w anything more.

  Chapter 14

  Hybrid Incorporated