The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club 00 by Dorothy L. Sayers

Author:Dorothy L. Sayers [Sayers, Dorothy L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePub Bud (www.epubbud.com)
Published: 2012-03-15T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

Wimsey went round to Parker’s flat in Great Ormond Street to have a drink before turning in, and the session was prolonged till the small hours had begun to grow into big hours and the early workman was abroad.

* * *

Lord Peter, having set the springe for his woodcock, slept the sleep of the just until close upon eleven o’clock the next morning. He was aroused by voices without, and presently his bedroom door was flung open to admit Mr. Murbles, of all people, in a high state of agitation, followed by Bunter, protesting.

“Hallo, sir!” said his lordship, much amazed. “What’s up?”

“We have been outwitted,” cried Mr. Murbles, waving his umbrella, “we have been forestalled! We should have gone to Major Fentiman last night. I wished to do so, but permitted myself to be persuaded against my better judgment. It will be a lesson to me.”

He sat down, panting a little.

“My dear Mr. Murbles,” said Wimsey, pleasantly, “your method of recalling one to the dull business of the day is as delightful as it is unexpected. Anything better calculated to dispel that sluggish feeling I can scarcely imagine. But pardon me — you are somewhat out of breath. Bunter! a whisky-and-soda for Mr. Murbles.”

“Indeed no!” ejaculated the solicitor, hurriedly. “I couldn’t touch it. Lord Peter—”

“A glass of sherry?” suggested his lordship, helpfully.

“No, no — nothing, thanks. A shocking thing has occurred. We are left—”

“Better and better. A shock is exactly what I feel to need. My café-au-lait, Bunter — and you may turn the bath on. Now, sir — out with it. I am fortified against anything.”

“Robert Fentiman,” announced Mr. Murbles, impressively, “has disappeared.”

He thumped his umbrella.

“Good God!” said Wimsey.

“He has gone,” repeated the solicitor. “At ten o’clock this morning I attended in person at his rooms in Richmond — in person—in order to bring him the more effectually to a sense of his situation. I rang the bell. I asked for him. The maid told me he had left the night before. I asked where he had gone. She said she did not know. He had taken a suit-case with him. I interviewed the landlady. She told me that Major Fentiman had received an urgent message during the evening and had informed her that he was called away. He had not mentioned where he was going nor how soon he would return. I left a note addressed to him, and hastened back to Dover Street. The flat there was shut up and untenanted. The man Woodward was nowhere to be found. I then came immediately to you. And I find you—”

Mr. Murbles waved an expressive hand at Wimsey, who was just taking from Bunter’s hands a chaste silver tray, containing a Queen Anne coffee-pot and milk-jug, a plate of buttered toast, a delicate china coffee-cup and a small pile of correspondence.

“So you do,” said Wimsey. “A depraved sight, I am afraid. H’m! It looks very much as though Robert had got wind of trouble and didn’t like to face the music.

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