Zorilla At Large! Read Online Free Page B

and gasping, Harry threw back his head.
    And sneezed.
    His spectacles flew off and hit the Mayor on the nose. The sneezes kept coming. Loud, wet sneezes that sounded like a man falling down a well and felt like the splash he made when he hit the bottom. Harry couldn’t stop. He stumbled blindly around, sneezing and blinking at the camera flashes. The Mayor backed away. He knocked the covered cage from the table.
    A couple of councillors bravely put themselves between His Worship and the relentless sneezing. Was it some kind of terrorist attack, they wondered? Some kind of germ warfare?
    Harry Henry staggered around. Someone said something to him in Swahili but it might as well have been Martian. Someone else swore at him in good old-fashioned Anglo-Saxon but Harry was too preoccupied with his nasal expulsions to respond.
    His fingers closed around the handle of a water jug. He picked it up and drenched his head. Breathless, he collapsed onto the table top.
    â€œMy dear fellow,” it was Jeff Newton, “Are you quite all right?”
    â€œFur...” Harry Henry managed to say between pants. He gestured frantically at his lapels. “The Mayor... he had ermine on his jacket.”
    â€œChrist alive,” Jeff Newton muttered. He surveyed the aftermath of the chaos. The Mayor had already been bundled out. The press were still snapping pictures.
    His heart sank when his gaze fell on something on the floor. The cage. The cage was empty.
    There was now a second zorilla at large.

Chapter Three
    Chief Inspector Wheeler called Brough, who put the call on loudspeaker for Miller’s benefit. They were still at the Railway Hotel, alone in the banqueting hall - a grimmer venue Brough could not envisage although Miller thought a few balloons and floral displays would make it just the ticket for a wedding reception.
    â€œPreliminary results am in,” Wheeler’s voice blared. “Doctor Kabungo died as a result of blood loss from injuries sustained to his throat. Three slashes did for him, severing his oesophagus and his jugular.”
    â€œAny idea what he was slashed with, Chief?”
    â€œGood question, Miller. The forensic pathologist is thinking along the lines of an animal attack. Claws.”
    Brough wrinkled his nose, then realised Wheeler couldn’t see that reaction so he said he thought that was unlikely.
    â€œOh, you are there!” said Wheeler. “Thought you were away with the fairies. Well, I think so and all. I think it’s more likely blades of some kind. I’ve got a bet on with the Superintendent. Now, what have you uncovered at the Railway Hotel?”
    â€œNot much,” said Miller. Brough kicked her under the table. “Ow! I mean, so far our diligent efforts have not resulted in any promising leads.”
    â€œIf it had been an animal, there’d be more clues,” added Brough. “The very lack of evidence suggests an all-too-human perpetrator.”
    â€œWoo-hoo!”
    â€œChief?”
    â€œJust mentally spending my winnings. Fucking yes!”
    â€œChief,” Miller dared to interrupt the Chief Inspector’s premature celebrations. “Do you think - do they say? - it’s three blades and one slash or one blade slashing three times?”
    â€œAnother good question. Fuck me, Miller; have you been on the energy drinks or what? They reckon it’s three all at the same time, given the angle of the slashes and all the rest of it. And now all this talk of slashing is making me need one myself. I’m off before I piss myself. Ta-ra.”
    The line went dead.
    â€œPerhaps...” Miller was thinking out loud, “perhaps there’s something in the hotel with three blades... Something in the kitchen maybe...”
    She looked at Brough, who was gazing blankly into space. She paid him back the kick under the table.
    â€œOw! What was that for?”
    â€œWe’ve got work to do. Stop daydreaming about your bloody