The Affair of the Mutilated Mink Read Online Free PDF Page A

this occasion - and by eight o'clock was on the road. He'd be at Alderley comfortably before lunch. And then for a long, long weekend with Gerry.
    'Happy days are here again,' Paul carolled lustily as he drove.
     
    * * *
     
    Hugh Quartus groaned thickly as the alarm clock clanged stridently a few inches from his ear. Without opening his eyes, he reached out an arm and knocked it from the table. It stopped. He lay still, trying to remember why he had set it. He usually slept till he woke. So there must be something important on this morning.
    Then it came to him. Alderley. Oh, lor!
    Hugh dragged himself out of bed, staggered to the washbasin, splashed tepid water over his face, shaved, and ran a comb through his hair. He made some tea, cut and ate a couple of thick slices of bread and jam, shoved some clothes and a few necessities into an old army kit-bag, and wrapped his only decent lounge suit in brown paper. Like it or lump it, they'd have to put up with one of their guests not wearing formal dress in the evenings.
    Next he filled a Thermos flask with tea, dressed in two pairs of socks, thick corduroy trousers, three sweaters and his old, moth-eaten fur-lined flying jacket, and went down to the lock-up garage he rented.
    He opened it and wheeled out his motorcycle and sidecar. He threw his luggage into the sidecar and took from it a scarf, goggles, cap and gauntlets. These donned, he was ready. Wrapped up though he was, it was going to be a fearfully cold trip. He was tempted, even at this stage, to go by train. But no; this way he'd have independence of movement. Without the bike, he'd be stuck in the heart of the country and utterly reliant on his hosts for transportation. Besides, he'd save a few shillings this way - always an important consideration.
    The superbly tuned engine of the little motor-bike started at first kick. It really had been a bargain, this machine.
    Hugh remembered he hadn't washed the breakfast things or made the bed. They'd be waiting for him when he got back.
    Something else to look forward to.
     
    * * *
     
    It was a little after eleven o'clock when Merryweather threw open the big double doors of the morning room at Alderley and announced, 'Mr and Mrs Sebastian Everard.'
    Thankful at last to know her cousin's surname, Lady Burford went forward to greet her.
    The woman who led the way into the room was small, somewhat plump, had a round, good-natured face and blonde hair done in lots of small tight curls. She stopped, staring at Lady Burford, her head tilted to one side. There was something birdlike about her.
    'Lavinia?'
    'Cecily?'
    'My dear, how lovely! You're looking wonderful.'
    'And you, Cecily.'
    They kissed. Lady Burford said, 'You remember George?'
    'Why, of course.' Cecily turned and presented her cheek as the Earl stepped forward. He brushed it with his lips, a little uncertainly.
    'Well, well, well,' he said, 'this is splendid. Splendid,' he added dogmatically, as though someone had contradicted him.
    Cecily said, 'And this is my husband, Sebastian.'
    Sebastian Everard was slight and thin, with a round, clean-shaven pink face and a bland expression. He smiled. 'How - how - how de do?' He spoke in an exaggerated drawl, offering a limp hand to the Earl and Countess. 'Jolly - jolly decent of you to ask us.'
    'Delighted to have you,' Lord Burford said.
    'Really? Oh, jolly good.' He gave an amiable titter, gazing round the room vaguely at the same time.
    'Now, George,' Lady Burford said briskly, 'why don't you give, er, Sebastian a drink? Cecily and I have a lot to talk about. There'll be some coffee shortly and if I remember rightly that's what she'll prefer.' She led her cousin to a chair by the fireplace.
    'Thank you, dear.' Cecily said. 'Now, there's so much I want to hear about you and George and Geraldine. And you must bring me up to date on twenty-five years of gossip. I want to know all about Lucy and the twins and Margaret and Reggie and Bobo and the Pearsons - and, oh, dozens of