The Crime and the Crystal by E. X. Ferrars

Author:E. X. Ferrars
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press
Published: 2021-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

“He’s drunk,” Sam said.

“I’m not sure he is.” Andrew got up and stooped over the young man. He remembered a student who had once come aggressively into his room to argue with him about something, then had quietly collapsed, just as Dudley Blair had done. “I think it may be something else.”

“Then hadn’t we better get a doctor?” Denis said.

“If I’m right, it might be better not to,” Andrew said. “It might only make trouble for him. I don’t think he’s actually unconscious, you know.”

“What do you think is the matter with him?” Sam asked.

“Pot,” Andrew said. “Hashish. Cannabis. Whatever you like to call it. A slight overdose.”

His guess was based partly on what Jan and Tony had told him about Dudley.

“What ought we to do about it?” Denis asked. “We can’t leave him just lying there.”

“I believe strong coffee is as good as anything,” Andrew said.

“I’ll make some,” Denis said and disappeared to the kitchen.

“Let’s get him up on to the settee,” Sam said.

Between them he and Andrew lifted the young man, whose long, thin body was very light. They put him down on the sofa and put a cushion under his head. He groaned as they were doing it, opened his eyes and muttered something like a protest, then closed them again and lay limply where they had put him.

“These kids,” Sam said. “What fools they are. I wonder where he gets it. Do you think he meant what he said?”

“That he wanted to confess to the murder?”

“That’s what it sounded like, didn’t it?”

“I don’t think it would be surprising if he’s had second thoughts about that by the time he comes round,” Andrew said. “On the other hand, it may have been something else he wanted to confess, which he may tell us about presently.”

“Jan’s fond of him,” Sam said. “She’s told me about him. She’s sorry for him and she’s kept trying to help him. My own idea is it’s time someone told him to get down to a plain job of work.”

Andrew did not think that the matter was as simple as that. He had met other Dudley Blairs during his working life, had been sorry for them, irritated by them and defeated by them, and he had never come even close to making up his mind what ought to be done with them.

By the time Denis returned with the coffee, Dudley was certainly conscious. He had shifted his position on the sofa, drawing his long legs up so that his feet did not protrude beyond the end of it and giving a sudden violent shiver as if the shock of returning to the normal world were almost too painful to be borne. His eyes were still closed, but when the coffee was brought he opened them again and observed in his well-bred voice, “This is terribly good of you.”

“Better sit up,” Sam said and put his hands out to haul the young man into a sitting posture, but he attained that himself without help.

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