The Claresby Collection: Twelve Mysteries Read Online Free PDF

Laura eagerly.

    “Well, several memories are beginning to emerge, and none of them very pleasant. You have to understand, I wasn’t in a good way last night.”

    “We do understand,” said Laura, with gentle encouragement. “Just tell us what you remember.”

    “Well,” began Floyd, cautiously, “I think I must have been tired and fallen asleep. When I woke up, you had all gone and the fire had died down. The whisky had left me feeling slightly odd inside, but surprisingly hungry. I thought I’d look out a snack – something savoury to offset the over-sweet liquor.”

    “You ate the toad!” exclaimed Laura with horrible realisation.
     
    “I’m rather afraid I did, my dear,” said Floyd apologetically.

    “But you were very drunk and your memory might be betraying you. Can you be sure you ate it?” asked Rupert.
     
    “Regrettably, yes,” replied Floyd. “You see, feeling rather unsettled, I paid a visit to the bathroom. It was as I sat there that the memory seemed to float inexorably to the surface of my mind. Distressed at the loss to Laura I felt obliged to see if I could at least...retrieve the diamonds!” He opened his clasped right hand to reveal the two stones.

    There was a stunned silence before Delilah said, “I really hope you washed your hands well.”

    “I did. I am mortified at what has occurred. Of course the work of art cannot be returned to you, Laura. All I can do is to humbly offer to paint my own portrait of you in recompense.”

    With the return of the diamonds and this generous offer from the great Floyd Bailey, Laura was feeling much happier. Perhaps she would even be able to see the funny side of events in due course. As for Rupert, he thought the replacement of the Pickled Toad with Diamonds by a portrait of Laura a definite improvement.

    An Uninvited Guest

    Of all the unwelcome guests you hope will not turn up at your wedding: ex-spouses, drunken relations and voluble friends in possession of all the facts about your misspent life, a corpse is amongst the most undesirable. However, on the day of the marriage of Rupert Latimer, the dazed and fortunate groom, and his very lovely and wealthy wife, Laura, they not only returned from Claresby parish church to find a corpse already in attendance in the Great Hall, set out as it was in full splendour for the reception, but that very corpse was seated at the top of the snowy clothed, flower bedecked table in the large oak chair predestined to receive the groom, its limbs spread-eagled in careless, slightly tipsy abandon. Worse still, after the screams and shrieks of one or two of the first ladies to arrive had been silenced, a helpful medical friend took a brief look at the unwanted guest and indicated that, far from being recently deceased, it was probably a day or so since it had breathed its last.

    It was characteristic of Laura that, on entering to find this scene, rather than dissolving into hysterics or clutching herself to the manly, if rather bony, chest of her newly acquired husband, she lifted the skirts of her elegant satin dress, bent towards the offending figure, sniffed her delicate nose and said, “Typical!”

    Once a semblance of order had returned and a number of guests, in need of reassurance, had made their way to the table set out with sherry and glasses, a few of the more sensible souls had emerged to take responsibility for the situation.

    “Where were the caterers?” was the first question asked by Paul Mayfield, the doctor who had already made his assessment of the uninvited guest. “I tell you, that fellow did not make his own way over to the chair. Someone must have carried him in, and someone should have seen that happen.”

    There were half a dozen caterers about the place for the occasion: two based in the kitchen preparing food, two girls to serve the food and drink, one to wash-up, and one in charge of the wine. They were not a large party for the wedding; only twenty guests, twenty-two to