Thrilling Mystery Magazine March 1942 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Pulp
Publisher: Thrilling Mystery Magazine
Published: 2024-11-06T00:00:00+00:00

The Burning Corpse

by Henry Kuttner

Red Murder Lust Runs Riot When Simon Gaunt—Long Dead—Writes the Name of His Murderer in Flames

“Shut up!” I nosed the gun toward him.

Chapter 1 “Flame Is Life”

Simon Gaunt worshipped fire. His mania was purely pagan; had he lived in ancient Britain, he might have been a Druid, tending the sacred altar flame. He loved fire as he would have loved a woman, and, I thought sometimes, it was the only thing that kept him alive.

Despite this, there was no warmth in the man. His eyes were chill flakes of blue ice, and his hands were wasted and transparent. He was always cold, except when he crouched by his hearth, watching oak-logs crackle and burn down to glowing coals of pulsing red.

The obsession of fire grew stronger as Gaunt aged.

He owned an advertising agency, but neglected it more and more. The burden of responsibility fell heavier on my shoulders, for I was the manager of the business. It would not have mattered if the firm had failed, for Gaunt was wealthy. Yet people spoke of him now as eccentric, and Diana and I talked together about it—but we could reach no real conclusion.

Diana was Gaunt’s daughter, and my fiancée, a slim, blond girl whose blue eyes were all warmth and sparkle. We had been engaged for a year. Gaunt neither approved nor disapproved; he simply ignored us. His emotions always were kept under lock and key, though I knew he had a very real affection for Diana.

Superficially there was nothing wrong. Despite Simon Gaunt’s skeletal appearance, he was in perfect health. Nor was his mind affected. The only thing was—he was abnormally and morbidly preoccupied with the cult of fire-worship.

His library was full of books on the subject. Sometimes he would talk to us about his theories—and they were wild enough.

“Flame is life,” he said once, his skull-like face reddened by the glow from the hearth. “The old religions were wiser than we. The ancient Persians knew the truth.”

Diana and I exchanged glances.

“Fire was man’s first step toward civilization,” I said. “Certainly it—”

Gaunt made an impatient gesture. “I am not speaking figuratively. Fire is life. The seeds of life came from the sun, and later from a molten earth. Fire is the crucible. Folk-lore hints at that, with its talk of fire elementals and salamanders—beings that can live in flame, are even part of it. I think,” he said somberly, “that I should die very quickly if I could not replenish my energy with fire.”

“You’re good for twenty years more at least,” I said, grinning. “Even on an iceberg.”

“Did you bring those new advertising accounts?” Gaunt said, abruptly changing the subject. “I should like to go over them with you.”

“They’re right here.” I took the papers from my briefcase. It was like old Simon to show these sudden flashes of interest in the business, which he usually ignored.

Diana rose, went to Gaunt, and kissed the top of his head.

“I hate being bored,” she smiled. “Duke was going to take me to a dance tonight.

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