28.01.05
The sea breeze seemed to do him a world of good. This was recuperation beyond the hospital bed. A few more evenings by the sea-shore and he would be mended anew.
It is fourteen days now since he met with the near fatal accident. Fortunately, his seatbelt saved him from being a human projectile straight through the windscreen when the new driver severed sharply and braked suddenly to avoid head on collision with an oncoming overspending truck. What the damn, is he drunk or what, coming straight upon me, were Rauf’s last thought before his vehicle crushed into the shoulder of the highway and came to a standstill poised precariously on the edge of the cliff.
It was two months ago that Rauf had started on his pursuit of the Manor House Killer. On a wintry evening Baroness Priscilla was found murdered in her bedroom. The killer stole nothing. Apparently walked into the bedroom, took aim of the sleeping mother of two just weeks old twins, and shot from his silencer. A splattering of blood woke the twins. In the huge country mansion, it took a few hours for her to be discovered dead, after she failed to come down to dinner.
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