C.: Well, the internet is available on my phone again. Mom and Dad paid all the cell phone bills. I guess they just forgot to pay them yesterday. I can continue to read d.c.’s latest finished book now. Where was I? Oh, yes, the prolegomenon of The Magruder Mysteries Murder 8; The Inert Ingredient.
PROLEGOMENON
Jay Magruder looked at his bag phone in disbelief. Why was his good friend from his hometown calling him on his only day off? What could possibly be so important as to disturb him during his only sabbatical after working for twenty straight days? What his friend had to say, though, disturbed Magruder more than the timing of the call.
***
In 1999, a bag phone would seem to be out of date. Most people disdained the bulky, battery-operated mobile phones when lighter, more portable cell phones came into vogue. Still, t hird-grade detective James David Magruder was glad to have something, anything with which to communicate with the outside world .
Even after a promotion from the plain clothes police division to detective third-class, the young cop couldn’t afford anything more than the bag phone his department supplied him with; or so it seemed to his friends and coworkers.
However, there was another reason why the detective chose this mode of communication as his one and only way to communicate with others outside his immediate vicinity. His provider wouldn’t let him keep the same number if he switched types of mobile phones. Magruder kept the bag phone with him at all times. Only he knew the reason why he did this, because he wouldn’t share it with anyone else. A landline was out of the question, though.
If he installed a landline in his Spartanly decorated apartment, it would make him more easily located. That could lead to his ultimate and painful demise if the wrong people were able to find him . He would n’t be protected by his coworkers if he was n’t working. It might also be detrimental to a young friend , one Jay felt wasn’t deserving of such a fate. After he moved across the sprawling metropolis of Houston, Texas, Magruder felt more confident that he would n’t be found; he ’d made it harder to do so by those who meant to harm him and his young friend.
Magruder listened carefully to what his friend from the Harris County Morgue had to say . As he hung up his bag phone, he knew what he must do. He must protect the truth about how the Houston Police Department’s most recent murder victim had died. He had no choice, he felt. So, Magruder put his nine-millimeter pistol in its holster and strapped the holster to his shoulder. After covering the handgun with a sports jacket, he drove his recently restored classic ‘64 and one-half Mustang to the Harris County Morgue. It was the only way he knew to protect the disturbing truth.
***
In 1999, a bag phone would seem to be out of date. Most people disdained the bulky, battery-operated mobile phones when lighter, more portable cell phones came into vogue. Still, third-grade detective James David Magruder was glad to have something, anything with which to communicate with the outside world .
Even after a promotion from the plain clothes police division to detective third-class, the young cop couldn’t afford anything more than the bag phone his department supplied him with; or so it seemed to his friends and coworkers.
However, there was another reason why the detective chose this mode of communication as his one and only way to communicate with others outside his immediate vicinity. His provider wouldn’t let him keep the same number if he switched types of mobile phones. Magruder kept the bag phone with him at all times. Only he knew the reason why he did this, because he wouldn’t share it with anyone else. A landline was out of the question, though.
If he installed a landline in his Spartanly decorated apartment, it would make him more easily located. That could lead to his ultimate and painful demise if the wrong people were able to find him . He would n’t be protected by his coworkers if he wasn’t working. It might also be detrimental to a young friend , one Jay felt was n’t deserving of such a fate. After he moved across the sprawling metropolis of Houston, Texas, Magruder felt more confident that he wouldn’t be found; he ’d made it harder to do so by those who meant to harm him and his young friend.
Magruder listened carefully to what his friend from the Harris County Morgue had to say . As he hung up his bag phone, he knew what he must do. He must protect the truth about how the Houston Police Department’s most recent murder victim had died. He had no choice, he felt. So, Magruder put his nine-millimeter pistol in its holster and strapped the holster to his shoulder. After covering the handgun with a sports jacket, he drove his recently restored classic ‘64 and one-half Mustang to the Harris County Morgue. It was the only way he knew to protect the disturbing truth.
C.: Oh, wow! Look at the time! I must be at work in thirty minutes. I’ll try to read more another day.
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