Death Invites You

by Paul Halter

  ‘While he’s pondering this, an unexpected event serves to speed things up: two false teeth are found on the body! And people assume, incorrectly, that means the body isn’t Harold’s. And if it isn’t, then Mrs. Vickers is no longer a suspect!

  ‘Do you remember, Hurst, that when we broke the news to Cunningham he went as white as a sheet?

  ‘He decided there and then that he would have to act that night and kill three birds with one stone. One: the brother’s body will be found and there’ll be no more doubt about the identity. Two: another heir—or, rather, heiress—will be eliminated, although I wonder whether there wasn’t another reason to get rid of Henrietta. (Note here that the reader has the rare privilege of knowing something the eminent detective doesn’t.) Three: there will no longer be the shadow of a doubt about Mrs. Vickers’ guilt. Not only are there many clues pointing to her, but there’s also a psychological aspect to the acts of the criminal who seemingly lost her head and created this macabre tragi-comedy. Remember her mother went mad and she herself didn’t know what she was saying or doing that night. And, to top it all, she was an actress.’

  ‘Yes, but he went too far, even so,’ replied Hurst, nodding his head in satisfaction. ‘To the point where he might have lost his head, too. Cutting that hair cleanly with a pair of scissors wasn’t a smart thing to do. I assume, though, that he couldn’t run the risk of waking her up.’

  ‘I’d like to go back to a point which should have alerted us earlier,’ said Dr. Twist in conclusion. ‘Namely, the preparation of the dinner and, more particularly the vegetables: they were done with shallots, bacon cubes, etc., and done in advance... but by whom? Somebody in the household? Hard to believe, for it would have certainly been noticed. Yet everything indicated that the murderer was familiar with the premises and knew the victim very well. So? Only Miss Valerie’s fiancée met those two conditions.’

  ‘Of course, it all looks obvious in hindsight,’ growled the inspector. ‘But just remember the singular aspect of the investigation and the problems we had identifying the corpse. We thought at first it was suicide by the author, then his brother, then back to the author because of the scar, then the brother because of the false teeth... then we had to rethink everything when we found the corpse in the cemetery. At that point, I admit, I thought my head was going to explode.’ His face suddenly cracked in a smile. ‘It was a stinking business, all right, with all kinds of smells. In that respect, I have to say Constable Wilson had a good nose. And I smell promotion in the air, particularly since there’s a sergeant’s spot which just opened up.’

  The young policeman blushed with pleasure and found a vague excuse to leave the room. Springer and Sharpe watched him go with amusement.

  The latter winced and clutched his wrist:

  ‘I’m afraid I’ll be unable to work for a while, so I might seek a change of air. A few weeks away with my sister and Valerie would do us all a world of good.’

  ‘Excellent idea,’ said Twist. ‘You need to forget this nightmare.’

  ‘Don’t worry about Valerie,’ continued the magician. ‘As soon as she learns the truth, she won’t have a shred of sympathy for that monster. A monster who would certainly have escaped justice but for you, Dr. Twist. You have been quite remarkable.’

  ‘Well, I...,’ said the criminologist modestly.

  ‘Yes, indeed. And I’ll say this. You would have made a fabulous magician.’

  After Springer and Sharpe had left, Dr. Twist exclaimed:

  ‘Good grief! I’d forgotten. Quick, Hurst, take me back to the flat. There’s someone waiting for me in the bathroom who’ll certainly be kicking up a fuss.’

  ‘In the bathroom?’ repeated the inspector in confusion. ‘I would have thought that, at your age—.’

  ‘Love is ageless,’ replied the detective stiffly.

  ‘But... since when?’

  ‘We met this afternoon at the lake in St. James’s Park. It was love at first sight and the charming creature hasn’t stopped following me since.’

  ‘Might I ask the creature’s name?’

  ‘Gideon.’

  ‘G-Gideon,’ stammered Hurst in confusion. ‘But—.’

  ‘I’m afraid, my friend, that you’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion. Gideon is an adorable little duck.’