The Ferryman Institute by Colin Gigl Read Free Book Online Page A

exactly the sort of attitude that’s going to make me think twice about inviting you.”
    â€œWonderful. That’s exactly what I was hoping for,” Javrouche said. “And this whole time I thought you didn’t actually listen to me. I’m flattered.”
    â€œWell, I was going to invite you as our entertainment for the evening. I’m of the opinion you’d make an excellent piñata. I think a lot of people would enjoy the opportunity to whack you repeatedly with a stick. Very cathartic, you know?”
    The Inspector allowed his smirk to crawl halfway across his face before it promptly died. “And I would very much enjoy seeing a certain problematic Ferryman chained to the bottom of an active volcano, but life is so often an exercise in managing one’s disappointments, isn’t it?”
    â€œMmm,” Charlie said, nodding as if he were present at an academic lecture. “Like how I find the fact you’re still standing here massively disappointing.”
    â€œYes . . . I would think you know a thing or two about disappointment, but what person wouldn’t if they had to live their life as you?” Javrouche edged slightly closer to Charlie and lowered his voice dramatically as he spoke. “You know what I find peculiar, Mssr. Dawson? When the Institute is in need of its so-called finest Ferryman, he can never be found. Isn’t that bizarre? It’s almost as if, for all the esteem he’s held in, he’s actually nothing more than a childish coward who runs when he’s needed most.”
    A sudden, impulsive urge raced up Charlie’s spine right into his frontal cortex, which demanded that he punch Javrouche squarely in his throat. Fortunately (or unfortunately—Charlie couldn’t quite decide which) he held himself back. It was obvious that the Inspector was trying to goad him into a reaction, andCharlie so genuinely hated giving Javrouche what he wanted. Instead, he closed his eyes and slowly exhaled, forcing his mind to step away from the wave of anger that was now pulsing in his skull. After a brief pause, he opened them again.
    â€œWhy are you here, Inspector?” he asked. They weren’t the words Charlie wanted to use, but he knew a pointless fight when he saw one. There was also the small matter of not rising to the Inspector’s bait, which Charlie bet would annoy him to no end. It was a tiny victory, but a victory nonetheless.
    Javrouche stood still, waiting to see if perhaps there was a delayed fuse on Charlie’s reaction. But when nothing greater than a fervent stare materialized between the two of them, the Inspector wound down.
    â€œJust dropping by to say hello, Mssr. Dawson. Occasionally I think you need a friendly reminder I exist.”
    â€œI don’t,” Charlie replied. “Trust me.”
    A smile formed on Javrouche’s lips. “Then you should act like it.”
    Charlie gave his best plastic smile right on back. “Unfortunately, there’s a limit to how much I can pretend I care what you think, Inspector. I’m only human, after all.”
    â€œI won’t argue with you there, Mssr. Dawson. I just find it a shame that the rest of this institution seems to think otherwise.”
    Strange though it was, for once in their torrid relationship, Charlie found himself agreeing fully with the Inspector’s sentiment. Not that he planned on telling Javrouche that—he had a feeling it would prove much too gratifying for the smug bastard.
    Their verbal sparring now over, Javrouche produced from inside his jacket a serviceable, if clunky-looking, cell phone that he thrust at Charlie, who took it cautiously.
    â€œMadame Johnson had a suspicion you had . . . misplaced , I believe was the word she used, your previous one. Hopefully, like your reputation, you will take better care of it this time.”
    The senior officer of the Ferryman Institute then began to