The Hamlet Ruse
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by Bret Jones
Description: Jake Baldwin is in the middle of grueling rehearsals for the Midwest University's production of Hamlet when murder most foul strikes the college campus. Erin Varnum, English professor and all-around flirt, is found stabbed to death in her campus office. Following in the Danish prince's footsteps, Jake searches for the clues to find the killer of his colleague and friend. The Bard's famous work becomes more than just a play for the stage. Can the solution be in the pages of the play itself?
eBook Publisher: Treble Heart Books, 2006
eBookwise Release Date: August 2006
3 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [299 KB]
Reading time: 203-285 min.
As I stood on my desk and pushed a ceiling tile out of the way, another whacking sound filled the tiny room. What good did stabbing the door do? I decided not to ask whoever it was about it and sprang into the blackness above me. As I put the tile back into place I heard a grunting from the other side of the door. Frustrated with his vain attempt to stab through the door, the intruder had now thought it wise to crash into it with his shoulder.
I could tell from the grunting it was a man. I heard some cursing, but decided to get as far away from my office as I could. I carefully crawled along the length of framework that locked the tiles into place in the ceiling. I knew that if I fell through and hit the floor I would be dead. I guessed that I had crossed over the costume shop, which put me just a few feet above my would-be assailant down below. Beads of sweat oozed from my scalp into my eyes. I wiped the sting away and moved into a different position along the framework.
I pulled my leg around and kicked the gas piping that ran through the building. It bonged and vibrated ten feet in both directions. I held my breath and pulled my leg under me. The sounds below me stopped. Another murmuring of words that I couldn't make out followed. I eased forward on the framework to get into a better position so I could keep moving.
A ceiling tile exploded upward three feet behind me. I banged my head against the pipe as I whirled around to catch a fleeting glimpse of a gloved hand disappear back down below. I didn't take the time to check my head. I grabbed onto the pipe and tried to shimmy as best I could down as far as it would take me. It was warm to the touch, but not too hot for me to hold onto as I made my way down the length of it.