The Curious Case of the Two Dirk Gentlys

34: The Photograph

Svald sure did a lot of driving for a man who didn't know where he was going. The general consensus was that they were heading towards the sea (though the plan after that was a little hazy) but the sun had set and nobody wanted to sleep in the crowded car. Svald's driving was starting to get dangerous as he swerved in the middle of the road. Fearing for the safety of her son Victoria forced him to pull over. They sat on the grass verge of a back road gathered around a tiny campfire as cars periodically raced by.

"Well this is fun isn't it?" Svald commented chirpily. The group grumbled incoherently. Fun wasn't exactly the word any of them would use. Most of the group was simply exhausted. Victoria was sure she was supposed to be experiencing some sort of distress. She'd been ripped from her home, separated from her husband, and she was once again on the run, criminalised simply for existing. She should have felt like she had a child, afraid and helpless, but she didn't, she didn't feel anything. She couldn't afford to be. She had a child of her own now. Albert was in the same position she had been all those years ago, except he was much younger. She had to be alert for his sake. The bastards could strike at anytime. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted by her emotions.

The one who had become distracted was Dirk. His icy glare could take him back to America and beyond. He looked straight into the fire, hugging his knees as the flames danced in his glaced over eyes. He hadn't said anything since they left the airport and he had barely been speaking before that. Victoria and Richard had tried to engage him but they'd barely got a mumble. They thought maybe if they left him for a bit he'd come around on his own. Clearly they had been mistaken.

"Svald, talk to him." Victoria grumbled.

"You all right over there, Dirk?" Asked Svald.

"I'm fine." Dirk mumbled.

"Probably not as enjoyable as the last time you were in England hey?" He asked softly.

"I never said that I'd been to England before." He said, looking straight up at Svald.

"Ah...well."

"Just like I never told you I found a photograph."

"Well that's just part of being a holistic detective isn't it? Sometimes we just know things." He smiled nervously.

"Why do you have this?" Dirk scowled, jumping up and whipping out the folded up photograph.

"Dirk, perhaps this isn't the best time."

"Did you know my mother? You said maybe she was a client. When? What happened?" Dirk interrogated.

"Dirk." Svald grumbled.

"Were you friends?" He asked.

"Yes, of sorts." Svald replied.

"Close friends?"

"Dirk, please-"

"Why do you have this picture of my mother? Why were you with her the day I was born?" He shouted, shoving the picture into his hand. Svald unfolded it and sighed. He used to love that picture, it had been framed in his old home. He'd locked it away nearly three decades ago, left it to fade and gather dust alongside many other artefacts. Such a happy picture, now it just made him sad. It was a picture of a red headed woman in a hospital bed. She wasn't sick, far from it. By her side stood Svald. Both of them were tired but smiling, neither was looking at the camera. Instead they were beaming at baby Dirk, small and safe, wrapped in a white blanket, warm in Svald's arm.

"Ah." Said Svald, putting the picture away.

"Svald?" Asked Richard.

"I think Albert has had a hard day. A bedtime story might calm him down." Svald decided, lifting the fascinated infant onto his knees.

"Svald, I don't think stalling is going to help." Said Svald.

"Oh no, I think you'll like this one. It's a wonderful tale full of twists and turns. This is the story of how I ended up running this little business alone in the first place. This is the story of my son."