Spider Legs by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online Page B

chair, resting his large arms on the table in front of him, as they both waited for a meeting with officials from St. John's police department. On the table, spread out in an array of seven photos, were large color prints made from some of the negatives in the camera they had found on the destroyed schooner.
    Nathan looked at one corner of the genteel room that contained a brown-lacquered cabinet with oriental panels. “Nice furniture,” he said. In another corner was an all-glass fish tank containing about fifty Zanclus cornutus fish, better known as Moorish Idols. On each of these marine fish were two black bars crossing a white and yellow body. Their caudal fins were black. The most prominent part of their anatomy was a long, trailing dorsal fin that protruded many inches beyond the fishes’ tails. Nathan got up and wandered over to the tank.

    “Beautiful fish,” he said. “But isn't it kind of strange for a police department to maintain such a beautiful tank?”
    “Not for Newfoundland,” Elmo said. “We're all fond of fish here.”
    “I always wanted to have a big tank like this at home but my ex-wife always objected,” said Nathan. “She said it was too much trouble. Too much money. Said we didn't have enough room in the house. Why is it that most spouses object to, or merely tolerate, the aquarium hobbies of their husbands?”
    “I don't know. But I think you're right. Maybe that's why I never married.”
    Nathan smiled faintly, sure that the man had more substantial reasons to have missed marriage, such as the length of his fingers. But of course he wouldn't remark on that. “These Moorish Idol fish are pretty difficult to keep. They're reluctant feeders and never breed in an aquarium. Whoever is in charge of the aquarium must be pretty good with fish.”
    “Why thank you,” said a woman who had just walked into the room.
    Policewoman Natalie Sheppard and Police Chief Joseph Falow shook hands with Elmo and Nathan. Natalie had anthracite eyes and hair as black as Manchester coal. She was currently out of uniform, wearing a watermelon-colored cotton sweater dress. Nathan wished immediately that he had some pretext to get to know her better. But of course he concealed this, and turned to the other. Police Chief Falow had iron-brown eyebrows, thick sandy hair, and a lanky frame without an ounce of spare flesh. After shaking hands, they took seats around the table. Falow's thick hand pinched a cigarette. His other hand drummed the table top with a pen.
    “OK, gentlemen,” Falow said. “Why did you call me? What news have you got for me?” He had a masculine force about him, a great presence born of certainty.
    “Take a look at these,” Elmo said to Falow and Natalie. He handed the prints to the officers.

    “Look like icebergs,” Natalie said as she held the photos in her hands. Her voice was soft and eminently reasonable. Falow looked at the photos, but withheld judgement. He sat with the ramrod posture of a British brigadier.
    “We got these from a camera we found on the Phantom, "Nathan said. “Take a look at the dark area at the lower left.” He rose from the table and pointed at the photos.
    “You shouldn't have taken the camera from the boat,” Falow said with irritation. He then looked at the photos. “Looks like a crab or a spider.” Falow spoke in a flat, inflectionless voice as he carefully examined an iceberg photo. “What's this have to do with the deaths on the schooner?”
    Nathan said just one word: “Pycnogonid.” He sat with his sneakers angled on the floor like frog's legs. There was a brooding quality about his voice.
    “What's that?” asked Natalie.
    “Pycnogonid,” he repeated. Now there was a certain thrill of alarm in his voice. “PICK-no-GO-nid. It's a spiderlike marine animal. Pycnogonids occur in all oceans, especially the arctic. They usually dwell on the bottom.”
    “How big is it?” Falow asked.
    “We couldn't tell just from looking at the photos,”