The Serpent of Mumbai, Part 1

Posted by Lee Montana

How my old university professor could have been lying dead on a tiny pacific island, and drinking cheap wine with a hundred academics at a conference in Mumbai, at quarter past eight on January 10th, was the biggest puzzle - or so I thought.

I got the text from him at half past nine that evening. "I'm in the pitcairns. Help pls rhegin" is how it ran. Which explains how Captain Drake, my employer, Verity Starchaser, and myself, found ourselves on a beach on a tiny, deserted strip of land in the Pitcairns, staring at Professor Rhegin's corpse, early the following morning.

He'd been shot just below the ribcage, where a small red stain marked his corderoy shirt. Drake said it was made by a small calibre gun with no stopping power, the disapproval in her voice tinged with sadness. Otherwise he might have been laid out for his funeral, apart from his left shoe, which was a few feet up the beach.

"Poor Thomas," said Verity with a sigh. Then, she frowned. Kneeling down, she put her hand on his foot. "His sock is soaking wet," she said. "How long ago did you get that text, Lee?"
"About five hours ago."
Verity looked at the waves rolling up the beach. "He was already dead by then," she said.
"How does a dead man send a text?" scoffed Drake.
"The real question is, how does anyone send a text from a deserted island?" asked Verity.
I looked at my phone. No signal whatsoever. I saw Drake do the same, and tut.
Verify was now going through the dead man's pockets. "Here is a puzzler for you to solve, Lee," she said with a smile. "How does a dead man send a text message from a desert island, when he has no phone? Should be easy for a man with two PhDs."
"I only have one PhD," I corrected her. "Double major in Social History and Creative Writing."
"And we are very proud of you."
"We need to get off this island," grunted Drake. "We need to inform the police, otherwise we will have a lot of explaining to do."
"I agree," said Verity.
As they were leaving, a sudden thought struck me, and I bent down and pulled off the wet sock.
"Are you mad, Montana?" growled Captain Drake. "You are interfering with a crime scene!"
I stared at the sole of Professor Thomas Rhegin's left foot for a long moment. Well, I thought. That is not what I expected to see.