Murder on the Thirteenth Read Online Free PDF Page B

encouraged.
    â€œThe blackout was on the thirteenth, for a start. A full moon. Close to midnight. The witching hour. What you saw on the island sounds like an altar. A witch’s or devil’s altar. A place prepared for evil. For casting spells.” Cynthia looked around the room. No one said anything for seconds, but it seemed longer. Then everybody tried to speak at once.
    â€œRubbish,” Patricia Sprong said.
    â€œOh dear,” Addie said quietly.
    â€œYou’re not suggesting some sort of witchcraft?” Mary Dearlove asked.” In 1943?”
    â€œYou mean that Tretheway and Jake almost caught a witch?” Gum said.
    â€œCan’t remember the last one we caught,” Garth smiled.
    â€œSeventeen twenty-seven,” Warbucks stated. “In Scotland. Janet…ah Home, I think. They say she turned her daughter into a flying horse. Laughed when they threw her onto the fire.”
    â€œOh dear,” Addie said again, louder.
    Tretheway glared at Warbucks. “Let Cynthia finish.”
    â€œMake fun if you like.” Cynthia reached for the brandy again, then thought better of it. “But when I think ofwitchcraft, I think of a religion. The craft of the wise. Wicca. It began before Christianity and will be with us forever. Now, I know there’s a certain occultism involved. A spirit world. An intangible, primitive dimension that no one in this room can explain.” Cynthia looked around for an answer before she went on. “But it’s a harmless, nondestructive form of witchcraft. In ancient tales, white witches have shrunk goitres, banished melancholy, staunched bleeding and even aided lovers in their quests. They’ve raised cones of power that have changed the paths of history.” Cynthia stopped. This time, she had a good swallow of brandy. She rearranged her strings of beads. Everyone waited. “However, what we have here is no old-time religion. This smacks of sorcery. Black magic. Devil worship. Everything points to evil. The demon’s circle. The pentacles. The perverted rosary with its nine feathers. A bronze bowl. Fire. The wax and the pins that I’m sure were stuck into an effigy before it melted. Image magic. Brimstone.”
    She stood up. Her eyes, glowing with enthusiasm and brandy, transfixed Tretheway.
    â€œThere was something out there. A witch. A wizard. A warlock. An impish presence. Bent on malevolent mischief.” Her voice rose. “Perhaps to raise a storm. To spoil a crop. To poison a well. To make a pact with the devil.” Cynthia’s eyes dilated. Her body twitched slightly. Exhausted, she sat down heavily on the couch.
    The fire crackled. Fat Rollo stretched out again. Fred whimpered softly in mid-dream. The quiet conversation of two student boarders was muffled behind the kitchen door.
    â€œOn the other hand,” Tretheway cleared his throat, “It could have been some FYU students.”
    â€œHaving a lark?” the Squire suggested.
    â€œPossibly some secret fraternity ritual,” Beezul said.
    â€œMaybe divinity students on a research project,” Mary Dearlove suggested.
    â€œOr raising a little hell,” Garth said. “Nothing wrong with that.”
    Everyone nodded except Cynthia Moon.
    â€œCouldn’t it have been something like that?” Addie asked her.
    Cynthia stared into Addie’s hopeful eyes. She realized everyone was waiting for her answer.
    â€œOf course it could.” Cynthia smiled. “I didn’t mean to alarm anyone.”
    â€œI mean,” Addie went on, “nothing happened really. No one was hurt, or anything.”
    â€œYou’re right, Addie,” Jake said. “Let’s have some sandwiches.”
    Addie brightened. A hum of conversation began.
    â€œAll right.” Tretheway tapped his night stick on the table again. “We’ll do the sandbag thing another night. I think we’ve covered everything.”
    â€œExcept