After what seemed like an eternity, Hanne turned on her side in her bed to discover that the clock now read 03:39.. the last time she looked, ages ago, it had read 03:18. and the time before that, 03:03.
It was no use trying to sleep. Too many questions vexed her mind. Each time she tried to pull out a strand of thought it seemed that she was pulling at a thread of something that someone had given a bunch of kittens several balls of wool and told them ‘Go make something out of that !’
How did a clown outfit become a way to ‘get close’ to Spivey and his brat’ ?
Ok so the dumpy guy. File number two. No name. Just Spud.. or Spudface.
Spudface and Anson. Definitely involved in something shady involving Joe Spivey, his daughter and… a clown?
“ A Fucking clown !?! “ Hanne spoke out loud, everytime she shut her eyes all she could see was garish make-up and a big red nose no matter how hard she tried to get her thoughts past that fucking clown it reappeared and seemed to be laughing.. At her !
And where did Silja fit in to all this. How deeply was she involved? Surely to whatever passed for a god’s sake these days her sister was not involved in plotting to kidnap and extort money !
OK she was well aware Silja was a chancer. How in hell she made it to whatever age she is.. was..
Hanne closed her eyes, Silja was her older sister, by a damned long way. But that was counting the decades spent suspended somewhere in Life-net. The fact being Silja is a clone, forever young. Hanne however was not. Hanne was a One-Lifer. Both spawned by the same father but in different worlds.
And that was the fact. Hanne and Silja were worlds apart.
Hanne reminded herself of that fact and tugged once more at the Silja thread of her tangled thoughts. Be professional.
Ok, so Silja was a known chancer, everybody knew that. Had she promoted herself to greater things. Infiltrating the richest family in Flagstaff to pull of a daring caper? She had some minerals to even think of that. To end up in Joe Spivey’ s bad books was asking for a whole lot of pain. Well maybe not as much pain as ending up in the Ranyhyn’s bad books…which she now was, if what Hanne had overheard from Anson was what she thought it was.
Hanne screwed her eyes shut. “ But she’s my damned sister! “ She found herself saying aloud in a voice which carried a lot of anguish.
But the evidence. Silja, not seen by her best friend Tuki for over a month, mainly because she now takes regular afternoon trysts with Anson, a known petty criminal, who somehow wants his Spudfaced accomplice to ’get close’ to Joe Spivey dressed as a clown.
“Gahh that fucking clown again !”
Hanne realised her fingertips had clenched and she was holding the bedsheet in some kind of deathgrip.
Fat Eric had been right. Dwight Frye had extracted confirmation. Something was going down. The Kjaer-Spivey’s were the target and now Hanne had uncovered the prime suspects for whom the next procedural step for The Ranyhyn Company usually meant taking the suspects on a visit to the bridge.
Could she do that to her own little sister?
There must be more to all of this, Hanne reasoned. She needed more evidence, and she needed it fast. Time was running out!