The Pale Horse by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-06-27T08:55:04.970000+00:00

"Now that's where I come in. I'm a betting man. I'll bet on anything - naturally on my own terms. You come to me. Naturally you wouldn't want to bet on the old girl's passing out. That would be repulsive to your finer feelings. So we put it this way. You bet me a certain sum that Aunt Eliza will be hale and hearty still next Christmas, I bet you that she won't."

The beady eyes were on me, watching...

"Nothing against that, is there? Simple. We have an argument on the subject. I say Aunt E. is lined up for death, you say she isn't. We draw up a contract and sign it. I give you a date. I say that a fortnight either way from that date Auntie E.'s funeral service will be read. You say it won't. If you're right, I pay you. If you're wrong, you - pay me!"

I looked at him. I tried to summon up the feelings of a man who wants a rich old lady out of the way. I shifted it to a blackmailer. Easier to throw oneself into that part. Some man had been bleeding me for years. I couldn't bear it any longer. I wanted him dead. I hadn't the nerve to kill him myself, but I'd give anything - yes, anything.

I spoke - my voice was hoarse. I was acting the part with some confidence.

"What terms?"

Mr Bradley's manner underwent a rapid change. It was gay, almost facetious.

"That's where we came in, isn't it? Or rather where you came in, ha ha. 'How much?' you said. Really quite startled me. Never heard anyone come to the point so soon."

"What terms?"

"That depends. It depends on several different factors. Roughly it depends on the amount there is at stake. In some cases it depends on the funds available to the client. An inconvenient husband - or a blackmailer or something of that kind - would depend on how much my client could afford to pay. I don't - let me make that clear - bet with poor clients, except in the kind of case I have just been outlining. In that case it would depend on the amount of Aunt Eliza's estate. Terms are by mutual agreement. We both want something out of it, don't we? The odds, however, work out usually at five hundred to one."

"Five hundred to one? That's pretty steep."

"My wager is pretty steep. If Aunt Eliza were pretty well booked for the tomb, you'd know it already, and you wouldn't come to me. To prophesy somebody's death to within two weeks means pretty long odds. Five thousand pounds to one hundred isn't at all out of the way."

"Supposing you lose?"

Mr Bradley shrugged his shoulders.

"That's just too bad. I pay up."

"And if I lose, I pay up. Supposing I don't?"

Mr Bradley leaned back in his chair. He half closed his eyes.

"I shouldn't advise that," he said softly. "I really shouldn't."

Despite the soft tone, I felt a faint shiver pass over me. He had uttered no direct menace.

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