The Harry Stubbs Adventures, Volume One by David Hambling

Author:David Hambling [Hambling, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cthulhu, fantasy, horror
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2018-10-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three: A Tour of Norwood

There was a fine motorcar outside the hotel the next morning, a black six-cylinder Daimler, fresh from the showroom, waxed and polished to a shine. I paused to admire it a moment before going inside and finding a new clerk at the desk.

“Mr Stubbs, isn’t it? I believe we have a mutual acquaintance in Mr Renville.” His name was Walker, and he gave a wink to signify we were both on the same job of watching Yang. “There’s a gentleman from the motor-rental company waiting over there who needs you to sign some papers.”

The rental agent asked if Mr Yang would be requiring a chauffeur. I don’t drive myself, but I could think of a dozen of Arthur’s circle who would take on the job, so I sent the agent on his way.

Yang appeared at nine o’clock on the dot, dressed in an off-white suit no less smart than his previous outfit. I mentioned the matter of the chauffeur.

“We do not need a driver. I will drive; you will provide navigation.” Yang passed me an odd piece of thick brown paper, about three inches square. There was an address in block letters on one side and Chinese writing on the other. “You know this place?”

“Certainly. It’s over the other side of Dulwich.”

We sat in the car, which smelled of fresh leather and oiled wood, while Yang familiarised himself with the controls. He lightly touched the handles and levers in turn and stroked the steering wheel. I did not dare to offer help, and when Yang pushed the starter button, the powerful engine roared to life.

“It’s a good car,” I said.

“I drive a Daimler in Shanghai,” said Yang, flicking the indicator. “Now, what direction?”

Yang drove well, coping with the busy traffic without difficulty. I had imagined Shanghai as a place of rickshaws and oxcarts and carriages but began to think that I may have been mistaken. I resolved to ask Reg about it.

I found the address easily enough even though it was out of the way. The road was a rutted lane, and the house stood by itself, almost concealed in the trees and surrounded by an overgrown garden. It was a ramshackle construction, built in several stages over a long period. It looked at least half-derelict. The roof slates were askew, but the windows were intact. A thin stream of smoke rose from the chimney.

Yang indicated for me to remain in the car. He crossed the road and knocked on the door. We waited for a good three minutes. I saw a face at an upstairs window. It appeared so briefly that I couldn’t tell whether it was a man or a woman. Nobody answered the door. At length, Yang came back across the muddy road and, taking out a silver fountain pen and business card, used the bonnet of the car for a writing table. He was close enough for me to see that he did not write but just drew a simple, looping design.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.