Manly Wade Wellman - Judge Pursuivant 01 Read Online Free Page B

Going to the dead man once more, I unchained
him from the chair and turned him upon his back. Susan's black cloak lay upon
one of the other chairs, and I picked it up and spread it above him. Then I
went to each door in turn, and to the windows.
                   "The seals are unbroken," I
reported. "There isn't a space through which even a mouse could slip in or
out. Yet - "
                   "I did it!" wailed Susan suddenly.
"Oh, my God, what dreadful thing came out of me to murder my father! "
                   I unfastened the parlour door and opened it.
Almost at the same time a loud knock sounded from the front of the house.
                   Zoberg lifted his head, nodding to me across
Susan's trembling shoulder. His arms were still clasped around her, and I could
not help but notice that they seemed thin and ineffectual now. When I had
chained them, I had wondered at their steely cording. Had this awful calamity
drained him of strength?
                   "Go," he said hoarsely. "See
who it is."
                   I went. Opening the front door, I came face to
face with a tall, angular silhouette in a slouch hat with snow on the brim.
                   "Who are you?" I jerked out,
startled.
                   "O'Bryant," boomed back an
organ-deep bass. "What's the fuss here?"
                   "Well -" I began, then hesitated.
                   "Stranger in town, ain't you?" was the
next question. "I saw you when you stopped at the Luther Inn. I'm O'Bryant
- the constable."
                   He strode across the door-sill, peered about
him in the dark, and then slouched into the lighted dining room. Following, I
made him out as a stern, roughly dressed man of forty or so, with a lean face
made strong by a salient chin and a similar nose. His light blue eyes studied
the still form of John Gird, and he stooped to draw away the cloak. Susan gave
another agonized cry, and I heard Zoberg gasp as if deeply shocked. The
constable, too, flinched and replaced the cloak more quickly than he had taken
it up.
                   "Who done that?" he barked at me.
                   Again I found it hard to answer. Constable
O'Bryant sniffed suspiciously at each of us in turn, took up the lamp and
herded us into the parlour. There he made us take seats.
                   "I want to know everything about this
business," he said harshly.
                   "You," he flung at me, "you
seem to be the closest to sensible. Give me the story, and don't leave out a
single bit of it."
                   Thus commanded, I made shift to describe the
seance and what had led up to it. I was as uneasy as most innocent people are
when unexpectedly questioned by peace officers. O'Bryant interrupted twice with
a guttural "Huh!" and once with a credulous whistle.
                   "And this killing happened in the
dark?" he asked when I had finished. "Well, which of you dressed up
like a devil and done it?"
                   Susan whimpered and bowed her head. Zoberg,
outraged, sprang to his feet.
                   "It was a creature from another
world," he protested angrily. "None of us had a reason to kill Mr
Gird."
                   O'Bryant emitted a sharp, equine laugh.
"Don't go to tell me any ghost stories. Doctor Zoberg. We folks have heard
a lot about the hocus-pocus you've pulled off here from time to time. Looks
like it might have been to cover up some kind of rough stuff."
                   "How could it be?" demanded Zoberg.
"Look here. Constable, these handcuffs." He
held out one pair of them. "We were all confined with them, fastened to
chairs that were sealed to the floor. Mr Gird was also chained, and his chair
made fast out of our reach. Go into the next room and look for yourself."
                   "Let me see them