Anne Bishop - Lake Silence

Moonsday, Juin 12

I wouldnt have known about the dead man if I hadnt walked into the kitchen at the exact moment my one and only lodger was about to warm up an eyeball in the wave-cooker.

Until that moment, I hadnt known I had a scream that could crack glass; I hadnt wondered if an eyeball would puff up and explode in a wave-cooker like those animal-shaped marshmallows; and I hadnt realized my lodgerAgatha call me Aggie Crowewas that kind of Crow.

She seemed so normal, if you overlooked her timely payment of the rent each week and the fact that she had taken up residence in The Jumble three weeks ago and seemed to be enjoying herself.

You cant eat that! I tried to sound firm, like a responsible human and business owner should. In truth, I sounded a wee bit hysterical, and I wished with all sincerity that I had walked into the kitchen five minutes later.

Then again, since the kitchen was one of the common rooms in the main building, I could have walked in when Aggie was halfway through her lunch, which Im sure would have been more distressing for at least one of us.

Why cant I eat it? She looked at the eyeball rolling around in the small bowl that was now sitting on the counter. Nobody else wants it. Its starting to get squooshy. And the dead man doesnt need it.

The words got me past the physical evidence. What dead man?

The one who doesnt need the eyeball. Little black feathers suddenly sprouted at her hairline, confirming the nature of my lodger. I was going to have to rework the rental agreement so that there was a space for unimportant bits of information like... oh, say... species.

Where did you find the dead man?

On the farm track that runs alongside Crabby Mans place.

I should have pointed out that Mr. Milford wasnt usually crabby, but he did get exercised when someone took one bite out of all the ripe strawberries or pinched fruit from his trees, since he and his wife needed the income they made from selling fresh fruit and homemade preserves. But there were other priorities.

Show me. I held up a hand. Wait. And dont nibble.

But...

You cant eat it. It could be evidence.

Her dark eyes filled with reproach. If I hadnt wanted to warm it up because it was squooshy, you wouldnt have known about the dead man and I could have had eyeball for lunch.

I couldnt refute that statement, so I backed up until I reached the wall phone in the kitchen, and then I dialed the emergency number for the Bristol Police Station. Bristol was a human town located at the southern end of Crystal Lake. Sproing, the only human village near Lake Silence, was currently without its own police force, so Bristol had drawn the short straw and had to respond to any of our calls for help.

Bristol Police Station. What is your emergency?

This is Victoria DeVine at The Jumble in Sproing. One of my lodgers found a dead man. Okay, Aggie was my only lodger, but there was no reason to advertise that. Right?

I started counting and reached seven before the dispatcher said, Did you see the body?

No, but my lodger did.

How do you know the body is dead?

Im looking at an eyeball that used to be attached to the body.

This time I counted to eight.

Well send someone. The words were slow in coming, but at least they were said and would be officially noted somewhere.

I didnt blame the dispatcher for hesitating to send someone to Sproingafter all, the police officer wed had before last years Great Predation had been eaten, and a couple of officers who had answered calls since then had provoked something in the wild country and never made it back to their stationbut I resented that I could feel her blaming me for whatever the police were going to find. On the other hand, I did withhold one tiny bit of information.