Murder in the Night (Musaicum Vintage Mysteries). Arthur Gask

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СКАЧАТЬ all—twenty-one minutes after his proper time I noticed. I said nothing, however, to anyone, and was apparently absorbed as usual in my work.

      Waller exhibited no particular hurry to settle at his desk; instead he perambulated about the room, flourishing a high-colored sporting paper and informing the office generally that he had a certain winner for the afternoon at ten to one.

      "Fireball's bound to win," he exclaimed emphatically, "the distance will just suit her and Nat Slogger's got the mount."

      It was the very chance I had been waiting for, and I stood up at my desk.

      "Mr. Waller," I interrupted icily, "this is not a betting club. You work here at a salary for so many hours a week and I notice you have already this morning cheated the firm of five-and-twenty minutes of their time."

      Waller looked at me blankly in a puzzled sort of way and then, apparently becoming aware who it was had spoken, dropped his jaw to an ugly sneer. Whatever retort he was about to make was stayed, however, by the abrupt entrance of Mr. William, who came in with some papers in his hand.

      "Mr. William," I said at once in the same level tones that I had used to Waller, "you requested me yesterday to report more carefully on the conduct of those in this room, and I take the opportunity now to inform you that Mr. Waller has only just this minute arrived. He is twenty-five minutes late this morning, and I may add he is rarely on any day at his desk within a quarter of an hour of the proper time."

      Mr. William seemed, I thought, rather taken aback at my remarks, and looked as if he had to half smother a smile, but he remarked grimly enough, anyhow, "Thank you, Wacks, I am much obliged to you. Business is not very good just now, and we have been thinking lately of dispensing with the services of two or three gentlemen in this room. I shall, therefore, be glad to know the ones we shall miss least," and then, beckoning to Waller. "I'll have a word with you, my friend, if you'll please come out with me."

      "And something more, Mr. William," I went on calmly, "I am not at all satisfied with Muggins here. His work has become very slovenly lately, and nearly all the invoices he makes out I have to re-do myself, because of the blots and mistakes he makes. I understand he expects a rise at the end of this month, but I would suggest, sir, that the firm hold it over until some improvement be shown."

      "Certainly, Wacks, I think it's quite a good idea. Now is there anything more you would like to tell me?"

      "Yes, sir," I continued coldly, "I understand from remarks here that more heats of the dart tournament are to be played off this afternoon, and, if that be so, I am afraid I shall have to ask you for more pens. You will understand, sir, that using the nibs as darts rather spoils them for other kinds of work, and, in consequence, I often find it difficult to carry on the work of the office with the supply of pens and nibs that you allow me."

      I spoke quite quietly and without any particular feeling or passion, but I hardly recognised my own voice, and seemed almost to be speaking in a dream.

      "Quite so, quite so," replied Mr. William, again, I thought, smothering a smile. "I can understand. Well, if any more pens are required this afternoon for this tournament you refer to, I shall be glad if you will send those participating in the game to fetch them,"—very grimly—"I shall be glad to meet them. Now, please come with me, Waller."

      They went out together. Waller looking very frightened and pasty faced, and for half a minute, at least, there was a dead silence over our room. Then the storm broke, and their tongues lashed out. Everyone seemed to have something to say.

      "You sneak—you little cur—you blasted little fool," were but a few of their remarks to me, but I looked round indifferently, as if not interested, until one of them, more practical than the others in their rage, threw a dirty and wet duster at me from across the room.

      The duster missed me easily, but the action instantly brought my temper to a blaze.

      A heavy brass paper-weight lay near me on my desk, and seizing it up, quick as thought, I hurled it point blank at the offender. It missed his head only by a hair's breadth, and crashed through the wire protection of the window behind. Nothing daunted, I followed it up immediately with a big lead inkstand, which, missing again, broke in a panel of the door. Then, having nothing further to my hand to throw, I seized up a stool and brandishing it over my head made ready to at least maim someone if anyone came on. But they were unnerved by my violence, and stood with white faces at their desks.

      They could see I was in earnest, and quite reckless of what I did. The paper-weight I threw would have seriously injured Monks had it hit him, and if the lead inkstand had found its mark it would have smashed his face in like a drum.

      They looked blankly at one another, and their violence seemed suddenly to die down as I faced them. No one leading an attack, they subsided gradually to cursing and black looks, and by the time Waller returned, which he did in about ten minutes looking scared and uncomfortable, the office was wrapped in an unusual quiet.

      Waller scowled menacingly at me, and was quietly informed of what had happened in his absence. He pursed up his lips when he was shown the strained wire netting, and he stared thoughtfully at the broken panel of the door. Then—and somehow I felt it at once—the impression got among them that I had gone mad. They edged away from me, and I saw it also in their nervous faces and averted eyes.

      All the morning they sat uneasily at their desks, and if I made any hurried movement in turning over the pages of my ledger, everyone was on the look-out instantly. But it only amused me and I went on with my work in the usual way.

      At dinner time I went out and had half a pint of beer at the 'Southern Cross,' and I can see now the startled and amazed looks on the faces of two of the clerks who happened to be lunching at the same bar. I was known so well as a rabid teetotaler and as one who had never entered a public-house. That afternoon there was absolute quiet in the office, and at half-past five they all melted away without any word of insolence or rudeness to me.

      I went home myself, in a queer mood of exaltation. I was quite pleased with everything in general, and was smiling to myself at the day's adventures.

      But for all this I could feel a murderous temper only just beneath my smiles, and knew that the very slightest crossing might rouse me instantly to a pitch of rage. The people that got in my way as I made for the train—the man who asked to see my season ticket at the barrier—the woman who took up too much space with her parcels in the carriage—and the paper boy who shouted too loudly as he passed the carriage door—all almost made me choke in fury. Under my pinched white face, I was a seething volcano, and if they had only known it, as dangerous to everyone I came in contact with as a man with a bomb.

      As I came up our street, Boulter was leaning over his front gate, talking to Meadows, the detective. I should have passed them by with a nod and 'Good evening,' but Boulter shouted to me, in the way of those hard of hearing, and I had to stop.

      "Did you hear anything last night, Mr. Wacks?" he bawled thunderously. "Any suspicious noises outside the house at all—because there was something happened in my garden—did you hear anyone moving in the night?"

      I shook my head as if pressed for time and wanting to pass on, but he continued impressively. "Someone murdered my rabbits last night—seven of them—seven of the best I ever bred. All laid out stiff and still when I came out this morning to feed 'em."

      I felt the detective was eyeing me narrowly and I feigned great interest at once.

      "All your rabbits dead, Mr. Boulter!" I ejaculated. "They must have had something wrong to eat."

      Boulter СКАЧАТЬ