It was only a matter of time before the janitor fell asleep in his boozed induced slumber. Confident that he wouldn't rouse, Best carefully lifted the ring of keys off the hook and made his way to the door, that led into the University. The hall was scantly lit with only enough light to see to the other end. Best walked swiftly along until he reached the door that led into the antiquities room. He fumbled the keys in the low light, looking for the right one for the door; it took longer than he wanted, but finally he did get the right key. Quickly the Councillor unlocked the door and stepped into the room.
Maxwell walked along the crowded shelves until he located what he was looking for; the finely carved Egyptian amulets. They were various sizes, but they easily fit into the little cloth sack that Best had brought along. Once he gathered what he felt was enough, he quickly left the room, locking it behind him and then returned the key ring to the hook in the janitor's room. Best took leave of the University premises in hast.
The Councillor tucked the sack under his right arm, and made his way over to the area near the saddle factory, where he would sell his ill-gotten booty to his buyer – at least he had hoped; hie buyer kept sketchy hours and wasn't one Best wanted on his bad side. He then wondered, as he walked along the street what ever happened to the shrunken head. He shrugged it off, thinking that the amulets would fetch a much better price, anyway.
Best reached the alley and began his journey to the other end, again it was still quite dark, with only the moonlight illuminating the area. His eyes had adjusted to the low light level. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he clutched the sack tighter. He paused when he thought he heard someone else walking. Best swallowed hard, and slowly began to walk again. Just as he was about to turn the corner out to the street, an burly man entered the alley in front of him.
"What are you doing in my alley?" the man growled.
Best stood frozen. He couldn't talk. His eyes were wide in fright.
"I asked you a question," the man sneered as he staggered forward.
Best suddenly went limp and dropped to his knees, rolling awkwardly forward; the sack slid out from under his arm. The other man wavered on his feet, "I didn't even tough you," he stated and then burped. The man bent down and picked up the sack hoping it contained a bottle then hustled off leaving Best in a heap in the alley.
It was a bright beautiful morning in Toronto. Murdoch had just gotten in to Station House No. 4 and settled at his desk. Brackenreid sundered over to the Detective's office, "Did that brain of yours come up with anything over night," he jokingly asked.
"Not a thing, Sir," Murdoch replied, almost embarrassed by the thought.
"Well, maybe today's our lucky day," Brackenreid smiled before he took a sip of tea from his cup. No sooner hat the Inspector got the words out of his mouth, Crabtree saddled up to him, at the Detective's doorway, "It would appear that another body was found near the old saddle factory," he stated.
"Bloody hell," Brackenreid cursed and turned back to him office to retrieve his hat, coat and walking stick.
"And from what the unfortunate person who found him, said it looks like Councillor Best," the Constable continued.
Murdoch made a face trying to put the pieces together, and none of it was making any sense. He too stood grabbed his hat from the peg, "Julia's busy at the hospital this morning. We'll have to use our discretion," he noted as he joined the Inspector as they walked to the station entrance.
"That's if he's there," Brackenreid scoffed. "Based on his get up and go spirit," he added, which garnered a looked from the Detective.
It took a few minutes to reach the scene and there were several other constables already there, and they were each chatting with other people. Crabtree led the way with Murdoch and Brackenreid in tow and they all came to a stop "Where is he?" Brackenreid looked around the alley.
"It would appear that you might be right, Sir about Councillor Best's wandering spirit," Murdoch pointed to the hat that lay in the dust. Clearly Brackenreid was not amused and shot the Detective one of those looks that questioned everything.
Murdoch moved to the small crowd, "Who reported finding a body to the police?" he asked aloud.
A man wearing a mid-shin white apron and a striped waste coat turned around and faced Murdoch, who opened his upper suit coat to show his badge. Brackenreid was now right behind the Detective, also eager to listen what the man had to say.
It would appear that the man was a butcher from the shop along the street. He adjusted his spectacles before he spoke. "I've never seen anything like it," he began. "I was just about to open my shop and there he was, just laying there," he pointed to the ground.
"Well, where is he now?" Brackenreid curtly asked.
"I don't know! I left him there and went to call you," the man said, indicating he called the police. "By the time one of your constables showed up he was gone," the man exclaimed.
Murdoch glanced at his boss before he looked at the butcher, "What time of day was this?" he asked.
The man thought for a few seconds, "Around six this morning," he replied.
"This makes no bloody sense," Brackenreid growled.
"You spoke with one of our other constables suggesting you recognized the man," Murdoch continued with his enquiry.
The butcher nodded, "I am certain that it was Councillor Best," he said. "I've never found a body before," suddenly the man looked unwell.
"It's a frightful thing to be sure," Murdoch noted. "Did this body, I mean Councillor Best have anything with him?"
The butcher shook his head no. "Just his hat, over there."
Murdoch dismissed the man and then turned to his boss, "I suggest that we pay Councillor Best a visit at home," he said.
"If he is home," Brackenreid lamented. Murdoch couldn't argue the fact. The two men were about to set off and pay Councillor Best a visit, however, George stopped them. "You might like to see this, Sirs," he motioned for the men to follow him. They walked along the street a little ways where Crabtree stopped at a doorway, "Does the look familiar?" the Constable asked.
"It certainly does, George," Murdoch replied as he crouched down.
"Another shrunken head?" Brackenreid asked as he looked over the Detective's shoulder, bracing himself for what be in the sack.
"I hope not, Sir," Murdoch said as he carefully opened the sack. "Well, well," he stated as he used his white handkerchief to pick up one of the Egyptian amulets and held it up for all to see. "George, get these back to the station and check them for fingermarks," the Detective ordered as he placed the artifact back into the sack, and stood up. Murdoch turned to face his boss, "We might have to pay the university a visit as well," he sighed.
Brackenreid frowned, "What the devil is going on?" he growled.
"That's a very good question, Sir," Murdoch replied as he looked the street hoping for answers.
