Gibbous House 72

Cullis being dismissed by the Professor to clean himself up - and place the horse's hide in the usual place - Mrs Gonderthwaite apparently found further tasks in the ill-provisioned kitchen. I looked to my ward and enquired:

'Did you know of the Professor's talents as a taxidermist, Miss Pardoner?'

The imp danced a little jig of frustration and ran a hand over his scalp, while scowling, as if he had been hoping to deny his harmless pastime. Miss Pardoner, in her turn, denied him the opportunity:

'Indeed I did and do, Mr Moffatt. It is a fascinating art and the Professor has been good enough to inculcate in me an appreciation of some of its mysteries.'

I thought of the poor fellow in the gatehouse.

'Do you leave the skinning of the beasts to such as Cullis?'

'Oh no, sir. I am more than competent with a sharp enough knife.'

It was not a comforting thought, but it was a fascinating one.

'How fortunate that the shepherd was killed with a rock, in that case.' I said.

The Professor cleared his throat and wondered:

'Ah... the policeman has been open with his speculations then?'

I supposed he had not, but saw no reason to apprise either of them of that fact.

'Oh yes,' I said. 'I should hardly be surprised if he suspects Maccabi, the fellow should have embroidered an M on his breast pocket. He is surely guilty of something, of that I have no doubt.'

A little scarlet appeared on Miss Pardoner's cheek but she made no further reaction and I had to be satisfied with that. The professor, however, stiffened his spine and spoke with some gravity:

'Mr Moffat, I have ever found Jedediah Maccabi to be the most honest, upright and diligent servant of the estate, I would doubt him capable of the least crime, save that of a surfeit of zeal in carrying out his duties.'

I could not resist a sneer in the little man's direction:

'It is to be hoped then, that his betters have not called upon him to perform any unsavoury duties, wouldn't you agree?'

I was pleased to note that this riposte deflated the man somewhat.

I excused myself to both and set off to the front of the house, convinced of an opportunity to see Jedediah carted to arrest and ignominy in the company of a corpse. It was not to be. Constable Turner stood in the rear of the cart, next to a shroud covered form that I presumed to be my late employee. Maccabi stood on the threshold lamentably bare of shackles, chains or any restraint at all. The reporter was in animated discussion with Maccabi, as I drew near, it became clear that Maccabi was informing him that he was not in a position to offer him board and lodging. Allan was implying that not to co-operate with him could prejudice any newspaper report he might concoct.

Such threats must have had little effect on Maccabi, for he remained obdurate. For certain sure, I was unfazed by them and merely extended the House's hospitality in the certainty that the reporter's stay would – at the very least – prove diverting.

At that moment, the policeman called from his vantage point that he intended to return and resolve the matter - if not before the day was out, then soon after.