A fragment of a maybe story.
Damien Caine left his car into the driest corner of the car park and hoped it wouldn't float in the next hour. The Wharfage was cordoned off for traffic and sightseers discouraged, but Damien's brisk, purposeful walk took him behind the flood barriers without comment. Workmen in fluorescent yellow were placing the top planks and as water gently sloshed out of the drain grills, water pumps were starting up. Damien Caine nodded to himself, these people didn't have a clue what was happening, but the Severn was rising and they did know what to do about that. It helped. They could do their job and he would do his. As he walked past the White Hart Damien flipped open his phone. “Where do I find you?”
He took a moment to stand at the highest point of the Iron Bridge scanning the far bank of the river. The orange tape fluttered as a clear marker but would soon be under water. Not much time. The sky was darkening. The path by the river was already being overflowed. He strode past the closed Toll House museum and a parked police car onto a woodland path that was ankle deep in churned up blood-red mud. Not easy to walk quickly, even for him, but he soon saw Ankaret Heyward talking to a shaken looking police officer.
“Where is she?” Damien asked the officer.
“On the way to the hospital sir, the ambulance crew managed to get her breathing.”
Ankaret and the police officer saw, but not consciously, the deep breath that Damien released, the slight relaxation of his shoulders. They had no idea how many years he had trained to achieve that subliminal emotional tell. They did not notice it. They would have noticed its absence. The police officer continued to report.
“Forensic staff are taking as much evidence as they can, but the river is coming up, we'll have to call them in soon, for safety sir!”
“I'll get out of your way then!”
Damien and Ankaret walked along the path until they were out of earshot.
“Well?” he asked.
Ankaret held out a clear plastic bag, inside it was a gleaming blue green scale.
“Sir, suppose the police find something?”
“Ankaret, It is dark wet and muddy down there and the river is rising, but it's no use saying, 'suppose the police find something'. I've no reason to suppose them incompetent. They will find their evidence and I won't interfere.
“But...”
“Tonight we have more urgent things to worry about than the police finding out about one unsuccessfully homicidal naiad. We have to find the naiad herself. We have to find what drove her crazy, and we have to find out why her sisters are trying to drown the Gorge.
He took a moment to stand at the highest point of the Iron Bridge scanning the far bank of the river. The orange tape fluttered as a clear marker but would soon be under water. Not much time. The sky was darkening. The path by the river was already being overflowed. He strode past the closed Toll House museum and a parked police car onto a woodland path that was ankle deep in churned up blood-red mud. Not easy to walk quickly, even for him, but he soon saw Ankaret Heyward talking to a shaken looking police officer.
“Where is she?” Damien asked the officer.
“On the way to the hospital sir, the ambulance crew managed to get her breathing.”
Ankaret and the police officer saw, but not consciously, the deep breath that Damien released, the slight relaxation of his shoulders. They had no idea how many years he had trained to achieve that subliminal emotional tell. They did not notice it. They would have noticed its absence. The police officer continued to report.
“Forensic staff are taking as much evidence as they can, but the river is coming up, we'll have to call them in soon, for safety sir!”
“I'll get out of your way then!”
Damien and Ankaret walked along the path until they were out of earshot.
“Well?” he asked.
Ankaret held out a clear plastic bag, inside it was a gleaming blue green scale.
“Sir, suppose the police find something?”
“Ankaret, It is dark wet and muddy down there and the river is rising, but it's no use saying, 'suppose the police find something'. I've no reason to suppose them incompetent. They will find their evidence and I won't interfere.
“But...”
“Tonight we have more urgent things to worry about than the police finding out about one unsuccessfully homicidal naiad. We have to find the naiad herself. We have to find what drove her crazy, and we have to find out why her sisters are trying to drown the Gorge.