Four Shots

Gaius has finished comparing the tidal ranges. Yes, they are the same.

At first he had not thought so, because the cardboard version was almost unreadable, having spent so long in the sea.

It was remarkable really that the Prismalo watercolour pencil had left any traces at all.

But there it was. Eight metres, between high and low tide, while the spring and neap range might be as big as thirteen point five.

A wonderful pencil. He searches his pockets.

Drat! Where are they? Belle will know where they are.

Belle was going to find Arthur. But she is not back yet.

Gaius leaves his hotel room, goes downstairs, and enters the dining room, which has a boat theme.

He stops to look at a poster depicting ships' knots.

Belle enters.

Gaius! says Belle. I was just coming to get you. We're all at the Jardin du Bourg. No one wants to go to bed yet.

We have a great deal to do in the morning, says Gaius.

I know, says Belle. More than you think, too. Saint Roley wants to bury his oyster shell oars in the sand. A proper funeral.

How do you know Saint Roley's wishes? asks Gaius.

Méen told me, says Belle. I dropped by before I came here.

But how does Méen know? asks Gaius.

Saint Roley can speak! says Belle. Isn't it magic! Terence is excited.

No doubt, says Gaius. Well well. This will be most useful. Our trained oystercatcher can speak. I must think how we can best use his new talent.

Not now, says Belle. Come with me to the Jardin. Everyone's there.

Arthur? says Gaius.

Arthur, says Belle. And Albert, Francine and François-René. They're all talking mathematics.

.......

It is hardly mathematics.

Four more shots, says Arthur. Why?

Closure, says Albert. A deliberate killing.

Arthur is waving a butter knife.

François-René has recovered his steak knife, and is cutting the fat off a steak.

Francine is swallowing oysters.

Knife would be better, says Arthur.

Here's Gaius, says Belle. Sit down, Gaius. I'll get you a beer.

Thanks, says Gaius. This is lively. What what are we discussing?

Albert's novel, says Francine. Would you like an oyster?

Gaius takes an oyster.

Not mathematics? says Gaius.

That's my field, says Francine.

Knives, says Arthur. That's mine.

That is a butter knife, says Gaius.

Four shots, says Albert, with a gun. So that the rest of the novel can follow.

Fair enough, says Arthur.

Knot theory, says Francine.

What a coincidence, says Gaius. I was just looking at ships' knots in the hotel dining room.

Not ships' knots, says Francine.  I am currently researching unknots.

And what are they? asks Gaius. May I trouble you for a second oyster?

Go for it, says Francine. This is an unknot.

She takes out a pencil and draws Gaius a squiggly line.