Edgar Allan Poe and the London Monster Read Online Free PDF Page B

curious if there was a reason—beyond the exemplary décor—for choosing this particular inn.”
    â€œI confess that I knew nothing of the place beyond the handbill I sent to you with my letter.”
    He drew the elegant handbill from his coat pocket and passed it to me. I remembered it well, but inspected it again as Dupin seemed to expect me to. The paper was thick and of good quality, with an ink sketch of the establishment on the front and the descriptive details inside the folded paper, written in a hand so meticulous it might have been typeface:
    Brown’s Genteel Inn
23 Dover Street ,
    Mayfair, London
    Located in close proximity to Green Park ,
    London’s theatres and historical locations,
and shops patronised by the
fashionable Ladies of London .
    This inn for Gentlefolk is furnished
to the highest standard ,
    with the strictest attention given to the comfort of those
who may favour it with their patronage .
    All servants are charged for in the bill. Meals provided .
    Proprietor: Mr. James Brown, former valet of Lord Byron .
    â€œAn unusual advertisement,” Dupin said. “How did you obtain it?”
    â€œIt arrived with my ticket for the Ariel . The agent took the liberty of booking me accommodation, and organized an additional room at my request.”
    Dupin retrieved the handbill and returned it to his pocket. “Let us now see whether the establishment’s cooking is as commendable as its decoration.” He lifted the silver lids from our dishes to reveal a supper of roast chicken, carrots and potatoes. My stomach rumbled and Dupin quickly served us both. We spoke nary a word after picking up our cutlery. Once our appetites were sated and the dishes cleared onto the kitchen’s trolley, Dupin poured us each a cognac and clipped two cigars.
    â€œI believe you will find this more than satisfactory.” Dupin lit his own cigar with a friction match, then held the flame toward mine. As it caught, I savored the smoke.
    â€œExcellent.”
    â€œThe New World produces some goods of very high quality.” His words seemed to transform into smoke, then back into words again. We enjoyed the cigars for several minutes, butDupin’s silent curiosity brought a sense of disquiet to the room—the cerebral always took precedent over corporeal pleasures with Dupin. I placed the mahogany box on the marble table.
    â€œI must thank you for coming to my aid when I gave you so little information about what brought me to London.”
    â€œI am honored that you presumed I would,” Dupin responded. “And I am most curious to learn more about your historical puzzle.”
    I nodded at the mahogany box. “Of course this relates to my mystery, as you will have gathered.”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œI am afraid the route to the heart of my problem will be circuitous if I am to make sure you are in possession of all the facts.”
    Dupin gave a hint of a smile. “You know me well. Better to presume that all details are important rather than the reverse, or we may overlook what is hidden in plain sight.”
    I took a goodly sip of cognac before commencing my tale. “I cannot recall if I ever mentioned that my mother was born here in London. While still a child, she emigrated to Boston with her mother who was an actress and made her own theater debut not long after arriving in her new homeland. My dear mother proved to be a fine actress and eventually met my father, who had ambitions to perform in the theater. He had little of her talent and perhaps envy was the cause of his abandonment, for he left her alone and penniless with three young children. She did her best to provide for us, but ill-health reduced her to ever more desperate straits, and she died in Richmond, Virginia, when I was not yet three years old.” I paused to inhale the rich smoke of my cigar as an all too familiar melancholia welled up within me. Dupin did the same, but his