Free Knightley and Son (9781619631540) by Rohan Gavin Page A

anymore. “I have bigger fish to fry, Alan,” he wheezed.
    “And what, pray tell, are they?” said Knightley.
    Bill sighed, uncertain whether involving Knightley would be beneficial or not. He produced a fresh cigar, struck a match to it, and resumed puffing smoke. “I have six unexplained bank robberies across six different counties, committed by six individuals with no criminal backgrounds,” he complained.
    “It was on the news last night,” added Darkus.
    “Piquant,” said Knightley. “Are there any patterns relating to age, gender, or ethnicity?”
    “None whatsayever.” Bill blew a smoke ring.
    “Any casualties as a result of the robberies?” continued Knightley.
    “No.”
    “Any suspects in custody?”
    “Just one. And I’m off to see him shortly.”
    “What about tools or weapons of choice?” Darkus ventured.
    “Aye. One clue was discovered at the scene of every crime. Only it’s not a weapon, exactly,” said Bill, looking perplexed. “It’s a boook .”

Chapter 8
    The Avid Reader
    Knightley’s ears lifted at Bill’s last answer. His nostrils flared, and he leaned forward as if all his features were streamlining themselves, preparing for the hunt.
    “A book. That is most interesting,” Knightley remarked. “And the particular book was . . . ?”
    “A self-help book. Not something I go in for myself,” replied Bill, a little too defensively. “It’s called The Code , by Ambrose Chambers.”
    “Doc? What do you know about it?”
    “Only that it’s the work of a first-time author whose background is shrouded in mystery,” said Darkus. “And he’s never been photographed. Most believe it’s a marketing ploy. Since the book’s publication a few months ago, it has been steadily climbing the bestseller lists, combining New Age motivational strategies with ancient mythology and pop psychology. The reviews were mixed. The general consensus is that it’s harmless.”
    “But clearly it’s not,” said Knightley.
    “Now, Alan, there’s no evidence to suggest the book has anything to do with the crimes.”
    “There’s no evidence to suggest the book doesn’t have anything to do with them either,” said Darkus.
    “Exactly,” said Knightley. “And this bears all the hallmarks of our usual foe.”
    “A’right. Seeing as you’ve decided to return to the land of the living, Alan, why don’t ye come with us? Prove the existence of the Combination.”
    “What about Doc?” he asked.
    Darkus looked from one man to the other, sensing his future was hanging in the balance.
    “Ye said it yerself, Alan—if the Combination’s out there and Draycott’s men are compromised, Darkus is in more danger here,” reasoned Bill.
    “You’re suggesting we bring him on the case? He’s only a boy.”
    “With the mind of an experienced investigator . . . with yer mind, Alan.”
    Knightley shook his head.
    “In yer current state, Alan, we need him.”
    “Then it’s settled,” said Darkus. “I’m coming.”
    Knightley frowned. “What you’ve read in the Knowledge is nothing compared to reality, Doc. This is no urban myth. The forces of good date back through the centuries, and I understand their appeal. But the forces of evil are far older—and more powerful. And the closer you get to them, the more malevolent they become,” Knightley concluded, visibly anxious.
    “If he’s going, so am I,” a voice interrupted them.
    The three of them turned to find Tilly standing in the doorway.
    “Nobody’s going anywhere,” Knightley ordered.
    “I’ve still got questions,” she replied.
    Knightley gestured impatiently. “Fire away.”
    “About my mom.”
    Knightley went quiet. “Yes . . . I’m terribly sorry, Tilly—”
    “Was it an accident? Or was it another one of your unexplained cases?” she demanded, biting her lip nervously.
    Darkus realized she’d been eavesdropping on the entire conversation from outside the door.
    “Because you know what I think?” she went on.