The Nine Tailors by Dorothy L. Sayers Page B

say?”
    “That, I fear, is beyond me, Hezekiah.”
    “As to being’ a bit behindhand with him,” went on the old man, “that ain’t no fault of ours. We only knowed to-day as he’d died, so it stands to reason we couldn’t ring for him earlier. But Christian—well, there! that’s a bit of a puzzle, that is.”
    “We’d better give him the benefit of the doubt, Hezekiah. Ring the bell by all means.”
    The old man looked dubious, and at length approached the doctor. “How old?” said the latter, looking round in some surprise. “Why, I don’t know. It’s hard to say. But I should think he was between forty and fifty. Why do you want to know? The bell? Oh, I see. Well, put it at fifty.”
    So Tailor Paul tolled the mysterious stranger out with nine strokes and fifty and a hundred more, while Alf Donnington at the Red Cow and Tom Tebbutt at the Wheatsheaf did a roaring trade, and the Rector wrote a letter.

THE SECOND PART
    LORD PETER IS CALLED INTO THE HUNT
    Hunting is the first part of change ringing which it is necessary to understand.
    TROYTE On Change-Ringing.
     
    “MY DEAR LORD PETER (wrote the Rector),—
    “Since your delightful visit to us in January, I have frequently wondered, with a sense of confusion, what you must have thought of us for not realising how distinguished an exponent of the methods of Sherlock Holmes we were entertaining beneath our roof. Living so very much out of the world, and reading only The Times and the Spectator, we are apt, I fear, to become somewhat narrow in our interests. It was only when my wife wrote to her cousin Mrs. Smith (whom you may know, perhaps, as she lives in Kensington) and mentioned your stay with us, that we were informed, by Mrs. Smith’s reply, what manner of man our guest was.
    “In the hope that you will pardon our lamentable ignorance, I venture to write and ask you to give us some your advice out of your great experience. This afternoon we ‘have been jerked rudely out of the noiseless tenor of our way,’ by a most mysterious and shocking occurrence. On opening the grave of the late Lady Thorpe to receive the body of her husband—whose sad death you no doubt saw in the Obituary columns of the daily press—our sexton was horrified to discover the dead body of a completely strange man, who appears to have come by his end in some violent and criminal manner. His face has been terribly mutilated, and—what seems even more shocking the poor fellow’s hands have been cut right off at the wrists! Our local police have, of course, the matter in hand, but the sad affair is of peculiar and painful interest to me (being in some sort connected with our parish church), and I am somewhat at a loss to know how I, personally, should proceed. My wife, with her usual great practical ability, suggested that we should seek your aid and advice, and Superintendent Blundell of Leamholt, with whom I have just had an interview, most obligingly says that he will give you every facility for investigation should you care to look into the matter personally. I hardly like to suggest to so busy a man that you should actually come and conduct your investigations on the spot, but, in case you thought of doing so, I need not say how heartily welcome you would be at the Rectory.
    “Forgive me if this letter is somewhat meandering and confused; I am writing in some perturbation of mind. I may add that our Ringers retain a most pleasant and grateful recollection of the help you gave us with our famous peal, and would, I am sure, wish me to remember them to you. “With kindest regards from my wife and myself,
    “Most sincerely yours,
    “THEODORE VENABLES.”
    “P.S.—My wife reminds me to tell you that the inquest is at 2 o’clock on Saturday.”
     
    This letter, dispatched on the Friday morning, reached Lord Peter by the first post on Saturday. He wired that he would start for Fenchurch St. Paul at once, joyfully cancelled a number of social engagements, and at 2