A Case for Brutus Lloyd: Science Fiction Mystery Stories by John Russell Fearn

Author:John Russell Fearn [Fearn, John Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction, mystery, scientific detective, little people, pulp fiction
ISBN: 9781434446923
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2013-03-06T21:00:00+00:00

CASE OF THE MEZOIC MONSTERS

I. MONSTROUS SIGHTINGS

“Lloyd! Damned glad you could make it!”

Inspector Branson caught Brutus Lloyd by the arm as he stepped from the 3:10 and led him into the waiting room. The little scientific detective took off his Derby and held it to the fire.

“Either give a good reason for this rush-trip or write yourself off the New York police force,” he growled in his bass voice. “Just what in hell did you mean over the phone by—monsters?”

“What I said! Monsters! Prehistoric things.... They belong definitely to science, so I sent for you.”

Lloyd’s keen little eyes sharpened. “You don’t mean the things mentioned in an obscure corner of this morning’s papers? Creatures from the Mesozoic Era?”

“Just that,” Branson acknowledged bluntly. “The sheriff here is all steamed over the business—right out of his depth. He sent for help from New York. Having nothing particular on hand, I came over. Dinosaurs, Lloyd—that’s what!”

Lloyd sighed. “Dammit man, dinosauria died out millions of years ago—and even supposing otherwise, they’d sure have more sense than choose a dump like Trenchley to park in! Anyway, let’s have it—and be brief!”

“Better come with me in the car,” Branson said, and led the way outside the station. Then, as he drove along the wet roadway through the wildest of drizzling, lonely country to the village of Trenchley itself, he spat out laconic statements, mainly embellishing the unimaginative newspaper reports.

“Seems a group of villagers, residents, saw two dinosaurs on the outskirts of the village last evening. I’ve questioned them all, and they all have the same story.”

“Deceptio visus—optical illusion,” Lloyd sneered, too wet and uncomfortable to be interested. “And anyway dinosaurs cover a whole range of animals—but that would be way above your head of course.... Village gossip, Branson!”

“I don’t think it is!” the Inspector insisted. “They’re sensible people, all of ’em. A young electrical engineer and his wife; a travelling salesman; a clergyman; one or two members of the local church; and—yes, another guy. A spiritualist.”

“Huh?” Lloyd looked up sharply.

“A Dr. Phalnack—plays around with tamborines in the dark and puts the jitters in village folk o’ nights. You know the type. Odd-looking chap. He has an Indian servant I didn’t like the looks of. Sort of dark, anarchistic guy with a towel round his head.”

“Hmm.” Lloyd fingered the J-shaped forelock poking under his uptilted Derby. Then he sneered, “I presume you looked for clues?”

“Sure—and I found ’em. Dinosaur’s footmarks.”

Lloyd rubbed his tiny hands together. “That’s better! This begins to smell more like my meat.”

Branson looked gratified; then he glanced ahead. “We’re coming into the village now. I asked the folks—the principal ones anyway—to gather in the village hall to meet you. They ought to be there by now.”

He swung the car off the main road into a gravel way, pulled up before a beetle-like tin-roofed shed. In a moment he and Lloyd were inside the place. Walking in slowly behind the burly Inspector, the diminutive investigator glanced over, and appraised, the assembly.

There was a young man with an eager, intelligent face and a dark, starry-eyed girl by his side.

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