A third chapter emerges

This morning I received a manuscript in the post. At first I thought it may be a new literary masterpiece from one of the award-winning authors who I serve as an agent. It wasn't.

Rather more excitingly, it is the third chapter of Dan Reilly's latest action-packed adventure, The Secret Syndrome.

Enjoy. It is inconceivable that you won't.

Chapter 3

Three nights later, Strong sat in his study, nursing a whisky cocktail and procrastinating. The events at the museum still played out in his mind like a mental film. Who was the mysterious woman?

The question remained unanswered.

The professor stood and walked silently over to his favorite spot at the window, overlooking the shadowy bay and the darkness outside. Jon Splendid was in intensive care: despite Strong's best efforts, the knife had punctured one of the curator's lungs and his life hung by a thread, balanced on a knife edge. Strong's massive hand obscured his face like a giant face-placenta for a moment as he tried desperately to maintain his composure.

He felt uneasy. It was not in his nature to be perplexed. He sipped his whisky delicately, swirling the liquor round his mouth: vintage, 20 years' aged in a cherry oak cask. At least the drink's still good, he thought.

Strong was expecting a visit any moment from his assistant, Janice Wolf. Despite her painful injuries, Ms Wolf had agreed to visit the professor and help him with the case. After all, she had had first contact with the hooded figure.

But only if they are one and the same! thought Strong suddenly. Could there be a clandestine society of hooded figures? Was the mystery of runes part of something much larger, with social and theological implications and consequences?

Placing this revelation to one side for a moment, Strong began to plump up the sofa cushions in anticipation of Ms Wolf's arrival. He swung his wrecking-ball fists at each feather pad in turn getting more and more strong with each swing. It felt good to release his aggression in this way.

After two-to-three minutes of this activity, he stopped.

He was glad that Ms Wolf was coming to his manor house despite her grievous injuries. To capitulate and visit her on the ward would be a sign of weakness. He just hoped that she didn't want anything to eat as he had used the majority of his fresh ingredients in a beef salad which he had eaten for lunch.

Suddenly, the door-bell rang.

Strong walked down the lavishly decorated hall, his feet sinking into the royal blue carpet. He had a bad feeling, and he knew to trust his gut feeling was normally a good thing to do. So he slowed before he reached the door and peered through the fish-eye spy hole which he had had installed for just such an occasion but never actually used. Fleetingly he thought that perhaps it had been fitted the wrong way around, as so often happens in clichéd films, but this was not the case.

Through the viewer he could see the lovely Ms Wolf, wearing a large brown coat with a mink-lined hood. Although taken aback for a moment, Strong decided that the hood was acceptable in spite of his conservationist stance as ultimately humans are above minks in the food chain.

Ms Wolf looked pale, but it was undoubtedly chilly outside. In fact, there were icicles hanging from the trees. It must be freezing! Strong deduced. He opened the door to welcome her into the warm embrace of his home.

Without warning, Ms Wolf fell face-first onto the welcome mat!

In horror, Strong saw that there was a knife sticking out of her back with a note attached. He was horrified. He stepped over her body as if avoiding a landmine and quickly glanced left then right when he was outside of the house. But he couldn't see anyone so he went back inside the house.

Professor Strong checked Ms Wolf's pulse: nothing. Damn! He smashed his fist against the hallway wall, shaking the house's very foundations.

His grief numbed the physical pain.

Bending down, Strong slowly pulled the note free of the blade. He studied it closely in the low light. On it, written in a tidy black scrawl, was written:

The seven runes of Ragnarok
The seven lives that time forgot
The secret syndrome; an open door
So Jesus Christ may live once more

Strong's eyes widened as he realized the implications of the riddle. Ms Wolf's body forgotten for a moment, he leapt cat-like into the study and began scribbling notes furiously with a biro because he couldn't find his laptop.