Death by the Mistletoe Read Online Free PDF Page A

tragedies. The majority of the victims, it was reported, had been struck down by lightning, as, at first glance, the Rev. Archibald Allan had been … And suddenly a queer little pulse began to hammer beneath James’s left ear. What was this? … Let him keep cool now! Here in the Daily Record it was stated plainly that the Right Rev. Kenneth Millar had been wearing a green sprig at the time of his death … a green sprig which had been thought worthy of mention by one paper only … a green sprig which might have been mistletoe. James covered his face with his hands.
    In due course he thought of the telephone.
    *
    Shortly afterwards he interviewed Big Peter, and answered that gentleman’s varied and excited questions regarding the tragedy of the previous night with strict accuracy.
    “You have plenty of stuff to be going on with, Peter?” he asked at last.
    “We have,’’ agreed Peter, removing a twelve-point L from his mouth with a suspicious frown. “Are ye no’ pleased?”
    “Very!” said James. “Because I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
    “Oh, hell!” roared Peter, as if in extreme pain. “What for? A Wednesday, too! Are ye daft? What are we to say here if anybody comes asking for ye?”
    “Say I was suddenly removed to the asylum,” returned James helpfully. “The fact is, I’m going to do a bit of inquiry into the Allan, case. Keep a column open for to-morrow … And don’t you worry, Peter, Andy will have the ‘copy’ at eight o’clock sharp.”
    “Hell!” repeated Peter, and put the twelve-point L back between his teeth.
    *
    Before leaving the office to have lunch, James spent almost a solid hour at the telephone. His inquiries, broadcast to various parts of the country, puzzled and annoyed many staid and dignified policemen, who asked pointed questions in return. But he was giving nothing away, and on several occasions terminated a call very effectively by banging down the receiver.
    As his questionnaire proceeded excitement and wonder threatened to overwhelm him altogether. All the mad notions brought into being by his reading of that morning’s newspapers were steadily being confirmed. That Archie Allan had been murdered James was now certain, though he had still to hear the result of the post mortem examination. That others besides the Rev. Archibald Allan had been murdered that Midsummer’s Eve he was equally certain … Before his task was half completed he had come to a decision.
    James knew that the information which he was slowly and laboriously collecting should at once be communicated to the police. He also knew that if he did not keep his knowledge to himself until — say — ten o’clock that night, Inspector McMillan would disseminate throughout the country theories which would be bound to find a place in most of the daily papers on the following day. And this was the last thing that James wanted. For the Campbeltown Gazette would likewise be published on the following day, and he had his duties as an editor to consider. And this time he was going to put the Gazette on the Press map with a vengeance. To-morrow’s issue would contain an article, the exclusive information in which would make Britain take notice in no uncertain fashion. That afternoon he would order wrappers to be prepared, addressed to all the leading English and Scottish newspapers, and marked: “The News Editor: Urgent.” He would get Bob to manufacture a rubber stamp bearing the notable inscription: “With the compliments of the Editor — John James MacPherson.” And even though editors would probably receive the same news later from their own correspondents, few of them would fail to make reference to the Campbeltown Gazette as the first to strike upon the amazing news, which they would publish in due course. Thursday’s issue of that remarkable journal would be in their hands before the wheels to be set in motion late that night by Mr. Archibald MacLean, the Procurator Fiscal, and Inspector