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Chapter 13
“Ahh detective. What are you doing in the drawing room?”
Still drawn still, the detective looked at the figure Galileo cut out of the harmoniously gentle ivory lighting.
“Detective, hello.”
“The detective appears to be suffering from shock Galileo. The paramedics have been alerted.”
“Really? What happened.”
The detective’s moustache moved silently at first. Then turning to the door Galileo had entered from, at approximately thirty degrees to his right, it looked about ten metres. The doorway changed. It was white, now it had a wooden frame. A rich red tapestry of flowers began to draw themselves on the wall breaking the monotony of the white for a slightly rose-water tinge. The floor turned to a chess board, somewhat tacky but brilliantly illuminated. There were four squares right of the detective until the wall and ten squares along the wall to the door. Four and then ten. That was it. Four and then ten the detective slowly began to move. One to the right. Three, two, touch the wall. It’s firm.
“Should I be doing something Cynthia?”
“The detective is in shock Galileo. Paramedics have been alerted and are on their way.”
“So…. I should?”
Seven, Six, Five. The wall is smooth. It looks like the roses are rough but it is smooth. Three. Three. Two.
“Cynthia. Should I stop him or help him where he is going?”
“The detective is suffering from shock Galileo. Paramedics have been alerted. The detective requires no first aid for any obvious trauma.”
“Guess I’ll just try and get him to the entrance then… Come on detective. This way.”
The detective held to the door frame and edged around into the hallway. It seemed so far. How many to the door? There were one, two, three side chandeliers. Then about five metres, from the corner, to the revolving door.
At every step, I am there.
Still drawn still, the detective looked at the figure Galileo cut out of the harmoniously gentle ivory lighting.
“Detective, hello.”
“The detective appears to be suffering from shock Galileo. The paramedics have been alerted.”
“Really? What happened.”
The detective’s moustache moved silently at first. Then turning to the door Galileo had entered from, at approximately thirty degrees to his right, it looked about ten metres. The doorway changed. It was white, now it had a wooden frame. A rich red tapestry of flowers began to draw themselves on the wall breaking the monotony of the white for a slightly rose-water tinge. The floor turned to a chess board, somewhat tacky but brilliantly illuminated. There were four squares right of the detective until the wall and ten squares along the wall to the door. Four and then ten. That was it. Four and then ten the detective slowly began to move. One to the right. Three, two, touch the wall. It’s firm.
“Should I be doing something Cynthia?”
“The detective is in shock Galileo. Paramedics have been alerted and are on their way.”
“So…. I should?”
Seven, Six, Five. The wall is smooth. It looks like the roses are rough but it is smooth. Three. Three. Two.
“Cynthia. Should I stop him or help him where he is going?”
“The detective is suffering from shock Galileo. Paramedics have been alerted. The detective requires no first aid for any obvious trauma.”
“Guess I’ll just try and get him to the entrance then… Come on detective. This way.”
The detective held to the door frame and edged around into the hallway. It seemed so far. How many to the door? There were one, two, three side chandeliers. Then about five metres, from the corner, to the revolving door.
At every step, I am there.