Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
“I congratulate you, Marryatt,” said Carmichael. “At the funeral the
other day, I am afraid I found myself chiefly thinking about the
unpleasantness of the kneeling accommodation, instead of the virtues
of the deceased. By the way, have you declared a truce in the
controversy with Brotherhood, now that he is no longer capable of
replying?”
“I am afraid I continued the course this evening. I could not very
well leave it where I had left off last Sunday. I had to meet, you
see, his views about immortality.”
Carmichael chuckled. “Well, let’s hope Brotherhood won’t walk,” he
said. “It would be very embarrassing for you, Marryatt, if
Brotherhood’s ghost came back to continue the discussion. It would
speak with so much expert knowledge.”
“Really, Carmichael,” said Marryatt, “I wish you wouldn’t say those
things. You told us yourself that you don’t believe in spiritualistic
phenomena.”
“It’s all right,” said Gordon, “you’ll be able to exorcise him if he
does turn up again. Try driving a stake through his body, I’m told
it’s effective. Hullo!” he added, consulting his watch, “I’d no idea
it was so late. I promised I’d go and help Murdoch fix up his
wireless. So long——” and he disappeared, giving a slight tug at
Reeves’ coat as he left.
He did not seem, however, to be in a hurry to redeem his promise.
Instead, he made straight for Marryatt’s room, taking the stairs three
at a time; and his proceedings in Marryatt’s room were sufficiently
curious to be worth recording in detail. First, he took two out of the
three pipes which lay there, and hid them carefully behind the
coal-scuttle. Then he pulled the remaining pipe in half; picked a
strand or two of tobacco out of the nearest tin, and rammed these
tightly down the stem of the pipe, close to the mouthpiece. There were
a couple of feathers on the mantelpiece; these he unscrupulously put
in his pocket. And, “Now, my friend,” he said to himself out loud, as
he left the room, “I think we’ve spiked your guns. I for one shall be
surprised if you don’t come along hunting for pipe-cleaners.” And so
he went down and rejoined Reeves in the deserted billiard-room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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