The Detective (Johannes Cabal #2)

by Jonathan L. Howard

‘I’m not talking about some phantom assailant, sir. I am talking about how ill-advised it is to go wandering around the bowels of a great machine of which you know nothing. You could have been incinerated, or electrocuted, or crushed. Worse yet, you might have interfered with the operation of this vessel and brought it crashing down! Did you ever pause to consider that?’ Cabal had not, and inwardly rebuked himself. He wasn’t about to let the reference to a ‘phantom assailant’ go unchallenged though. ‘Such catastrophic scenarios aside, Captain, I repeat: somebody tried to kill me. I did not imagine that.’ ‘So you said, and they just vanished. Hardly the actions of a determined attacker.’ ‘Only after I stabbed them!’ There was sudden silence. Cabal searched the captain’s face. ‘I did mention that I’d stabbed them, didn’t I?’ ‘You did not.’ The captain looked suspiciously at Cabal. ‘How came you to be wandering the corridors in the early hours in your nightwear and carrying a knife, sir?’ ‘I needed something to lift the corner of the carpet square. I had a pocket knife in my luggage, and went back for it. I do not habitually go to bed armed, if that is what you are implying.’ The captain didn’t seem mollified by this explanation, but let it pass. ‘So this individual is injured, yes?’ ‘In the wrist. It was all I could reach.’ The captain seemed satisfied for the first time. He was a practical man and – while talk of hallucinatory tesseracts and shadowy assassins might irk him ...