is the second time this has happened to me.’
‘Double vision, old man. All doubles, if you see what I mean.’
Bull came back with a torch and an electric bulb.
‘You’ll taller than me, sir, so won’t need the step-ladder,’ he said, handing Trickett the bulb. ‘I’d have replaced this here before now, but for the bother of fetching the ladder.’ They walked towards the end of the corridor. I got up from my chair and caught up with them, an action which I don’t think either appreciated very much, for Bull said nervously, ‘Now don’t you fret, sir. Just leave everything to us. We’ll soon fix up a light and then you’ll see as everything is all right.’
But, of course, nothing was all right except the calm behaviour of Trickett. The electric light was only about a third of the way down the passage, so, helped by the beam of Bull’s torch, Trickett was able to reach up and fix the bulb before we came to the body. When he saw it he said, ‘Well, well! Yes, Bull, you had certainly better call the police.’ He took me by the sleeve. ‘Come up to my room, Mr Melrose, and I’ll rustle you up a drink. You won’t want to go back to the party.’
We went up some stairs, I remember, and he took me into his study-bedroom. The drink was only vermouth, but it did something for me. I sat in his only chair while he settled himself on the bed and, when I had swallowed the contents of the glass, I told him all about my experience in the ruins on Rannoch Moor.
‘Oh, well,’ he said comfortingly, ‘it’s not all that unusual for people to see things before they happen. Time is only relative, after all.’
‘But the chap in Scotland was a real chap. I didn’t see a ghost. I just identified him wrongly, that’s all. The really odd thing — well, this chap in the passage is Carbridge.’
‘Yes. It looks as though he turned up after all.’
‘After all?’
‘Yes. He answered the invitation with tremendous enthusiasm, so I quite expected him to come bouncing along and I was most surprised when he didn’t show up.’
‘Well, he’s shown up now all right.’
‘Yes,’ said Trickett, gloomy for the first time, ‘you’re right there. I don’t know what the warden is going to say. He wasn’t a bit keen to grant me permission to hold the party here out of term-time and, if it hadn’t been a reunion for the Scottish adventure people, he would have turned me down flat. He told me so.’ He looked at me sadly, but without animosity. ‘You couldn’t be a sort of Ancient Mariner, could you?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t killed the albatross or anything or anybody else. I’ve just got myself caught up in something nightmarish,’ I answered; but the reference to the Ancient Mariner brought my previous bad dreams rushing back at me like a flock of vampire bats.
Before I could say any more, Bull knocked on the door to tell us that the police had arrived. Would we please come down? We went down. A policeman was standing by the door behind which the party was held and two others, an inspector and a sergeant, both in uniform, were waiting at the foot of the stairs.
‘Which of you gentlemen found the body?’
‘I did,’ I said.
‘Gentleman was on his way to the bog,’ said Bull helpfully.
‘Well, it looks like a case for the CID,’ said the inspector.
‘Did you think it was a hoax, then?’ asked Trickett sharply.
‘We never know, with students.’ The sergeant took down our names and addresses and the inspector sent us to join the rest of the party. Everybody realised that something was up. All the noise had died down, the orchestra had laid aside their instruments and the only sound except for low-toned conversation was made by the pianist, who was strumming very softly some plaintive tunes such as ‘Swanee River’ and ‘Poor Old Joe’. I suppose he thought modern jazz would be out of place.
We all sat around on the floor, for only the orchestra had chairs. Hera sat beside me.
‘So it
‘Double vision, old man. All doubles, if you see what I mean.’
Bull came back with a torch and an electric bulb.
‘You’ll taller than me, sir, so won’t need the step-ladder,’ he said, handing Trickett the bulb. ‘I’d have replaced this here before now, but for the bother of fetching the ladder.’ They walked towards the end of the corridor. I got up from my chair and caught up with them, an action which I don’t think either appreciated very much, for Bull said nervously, ‘Now don’t you fret, sir. Just leave everything to us. We’ll soon fix up a light and then you’ll see as everything is all right.’
But, of course, nothing was all right except the calm behaviour of Trickett. The electric light was only about a third of the way down the passage, so, helped by the beam of Bull’s torch, Trickett was able to reach up and fix the bulb before we came to the body. When he saw it he said, ‘Well, well! Yes, Bull, you had certainly better call the police.’ He took me by the sleeve. ‘Come up to my room, Mr Melrose, and I’ll rustle you up a drink. You won’t want to go back to the party.’
We went up some stairs, I remember, and he took me into his study-bedroom. The drink was only vermouth, but it did something for me. I sat in his only chair while he settled himself on the bed and, when I had swallowed the contents of the glass, I told him all about my experience in the ruins on Rannoch Moor.
‘Oh, well,’ he said comfortingly, ‘it’s not all that unusual for people to see things before they happen. Time is only relative, after all.’
‘But the chap in Scotland was a real chap. I didn’t see a ghost. I just identified him wrongly, that’s all. The really odd thing — well, this chap in the passage is Carbridge.’
‘Yes. It looks as though he turned up after all.’
‘After all?’
‘Yes. He answered the invitation with tremendous enthusiasm, so I quite expected him to come bouncing along and I was most surprised when he didn’t show up.’
‘Well, he’s shown up now all right.’
‘Yes,’ said Trickett, gloomy for the first time, ‘you’re right there. I don’t know what the warden is going to say. He wasn’t a bit keen to grant me permission to hold the party here out of term-time and, if it hadn’t been a reunion for the Scottish adventure people, he would have turned me down flat. He told me so.’ He looked at me sadly, but without animosity. ‘You couldn’t be a sort of Ancient Mariner, could you?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t killed the albatross or anything or anybody else. I’ve just got myself caught up in something nightmarish,’ I answered; but the reference to the Ancient Mariner brought my previous bad dreams rushing back at me like a flock of vampire bats.
Before I could say any more, Bull knocked on the door to tell us that the police had arrived. Would we please come down? We went down. A policeman was standing by the door behind which the party was held and two others, an inspector and a sergeant, both in uniform, were waiting at the foot of the stairs.
‘Which of you gentlemen found the body?’
‘I did,’ I said.
‘Gentleman was on his way to the bog,’ said Bull helpfully.
‘Well, it looks like a case for the CID,’ said the inspector.
‘Did you think it was a hoax, then?’ asked Trickett sharply.
‘We never know, with students.’ The sergeant took down our names and addresses and the inspector sent us to join the rest of the party. Everybody realised that something was up. All the noise had died down, the orchestra had laid aside their instruments and the only sound except for low-toned conversation was made by the pianist, who was strumming very softly some plaintive tunes such as ‘Swanee River’ and ‘Poor Old Joe’. I suppose he thought modern jazz would be out of place.
We all sat around on the floor, for only the orchestra had chairs. Hera sat beside me.
‘So it
Similar Books
