Tessa's Call of Cthulhu
It was safe to say in Alastair’s opinion that the copper had a shite car and the salesman saw him coming when he sold him this clown’s car. Of course being bounced all over the back whilst they drove at speed to the cottage that Deacon’s cousin owned was what fuelled these thoughts, still they were better thoughts than those he had at the pile that Deacon’s family called home. Wincing at a particularly harsh set of rocks that seemed to translate from tire to what felt like directly his arse he cast his thoughts over the previous day’s events.
Well being shunted even further into the highlands was no surprise to Alastair, he was expecting it, Christ he would love to get back to Glasgow, Edinburgh or he would even take Perth now instead of hills, hills and more fecking hills. Still no point in whining, it only earned a slap, the village they ended up in was even more inbred than he first thought but Deacon got in touch with a worker fro his estate so at least he was happy. Settling the other toff with a drink he had tried his best to get more information on the area from listening to the locals but of course they all gabbed in that daft language that Deacon had spoke to the ill-fated guy from Glencoe. Alastair saw Deacon gestured towards him and use the same language to say something about him to the other bloke but from body language it wasn’t going to be a glowing reference but the bloke was willing to speak to him.
The description of Deacon’s cousin was amusing, now the question is whether Angus is the black sheep or was Deacon? Reminds me, do not say that out loud…
And of course his guardian had to invite a bloody pig to dinner that night at the house… All this time and no police then one invited to sit at the fecking same table.
Alastair smiled despite the bumps at the memory of the scream of rage that Deacon howled at the doors, at first he had thought that the cousin was being wise and just staying out the way but once they entered it was obvious that something had gone seriously wrong. From a professional view the house had been turned over very shoddily, very much like a scene from one of the crime books he had been reading on the journey from Glencoe, anyway you don’t turn over a house like that unless you are an amateur, you waste too much time. The letter on the other hand was a bit of a shock, no wonder Deacon looked like he wanted to rip his cousin in half and after getting him to set a fire and burn it, had stomped off upstairs.
Second surprise after following him was the second toff tied at the end of the master bed, unlike Deacon, Alastair believed the guy that he was innocent; he was just too thick to make it up. Still, not thick enough to go first though the first locked door leading to the cellar, shame.
The cellar turned out to be the wine one, and that is where things got a bit weird. Deacon from that point decided to be ‘nice’ to me, has been ever since, hmm. A brief frown crossed his face, Alastair wondered why and why now but until he could get his guardian alone to ask there was no point in thinking about it. Anyway they all had to wait for PC Plod to turn up before exploring the tunnel that was in the cellar, just as well really as there Germans waiting for them at the end of the tunnel. The fight was short and nasty but thankfully the huns were as weak as the news said. There was no sign still of the cousin though, but Deacon got some information on possible whereabouts which was why he was being bounced around in the plod’s shite car down to some crappy cottage on a track that even a nag would refuse to go down.