"I think our planet was swallowed by a black hole." After I voiced that opinion, Rodriguez surprisingly didn't laugh at my childish metaphor. "Darkness brings time to a standstill. I believe that's what you mean, Mr. Fris. From either a physical or sociological perspective, it makes sense—and it's interesting." I hadn't expected that kind of assessment. Maybe he was just trying to comfort me, but it really did make me feel better. See? When a cold, arrogant detective wanted to comfort someone, he didn't skimp on making all-encompassing observations.
My phone suddenly rang. I looked in that direction. The screen lit up, reflecting only Rodriguez's stern expression. "Moriarty is here," he said. Judging by his expression, it wasn't a good sign, but we'd been through so many bad things that even I generously felt one more wouldn't make much difference.
"He greeted an old friend, Mr. Fris. What do you think that means?" Honestly, I didn't know. But I still did my best to guess. "He knew you before, probably."
It was an utterly stupid answer. Of course, an old friend—someone he'd never met wouldn't use that form of address. But if he was comparing himself to Moriarty, he really didn't sound like someone Rodriguez would know.
"Who was Moriarty's opponent?" The detective answered his own question. "Sherlock Holmes, of course." He began to pace, seemingly reasoning things out, though there was a hint of disdain in his manner. "Only a puzzle of this caliber..."
I looked at him in confusion, but he had already put on his coat and headed for the door. I followed him into the damp night. Even after the two of us got into the car, I still hadn't figured out what it meant.
"The cliff," he said. "The cliffside restaurant by the coast."
Victor