Chapter Sixteen (Not from Captain Hastings'Personal Narrative)


          Mr Alexander Bonaparte Cust came out with the rest of the
     audience from
     the Torquay Palladium，where he had been seeing and hearing that
     highly
     emotional film，Not a Sparrow......
         He blinked a little as he came out into the afternoon sunshine and
     peered round him in that lost-dog fashion that was characteristic of
     him.
         He murmured to himself:"It's an idea......"
         Newsboys passed along crying out:
         "Latest......Homicidal Maniac at Churston......"
         They carried placards on which was written:
         CHURSTON MURDER.LATEST.
         Mr Cust fumbled in his pocket，found a coin，and bought a paper.He
     did
     not open it at once.
         Entering the Princess Gardens，he slowly made his way to a shelter
     facing Torquay harbour.He sat down and opened the paper.
         There were big headlines:
         Sir Carmichael Clarke Murdered.
         Terrible Tragedy at Churston.
         Work of a Homicidal Maniac.
         And below them:
         Only a month ago England was shocked and startled by the under of
     a
     young girl，Elizabeth Barnard，at Bexhill.It may be remembered that an
     A B C
     railway guide figured in the case.An A B C was also found by the dead
     body
     of Sir Carmichael Clarke，and the police incline to the belief that
     both
     crimes were committed by the same person.Can it be possible that a
     homicidal
     murderer is going the round of our seaside resorts?......
         A young man in flannel trousers and a bright blue Aertex shirt who
     was
     sitting beside Mr Cust remarked:
         "Nasty business-eh?"
         Mr Cust jumped.
         "Oh，very-very-"His hands，the young man noticed，were trembling
     so that
     he could hardly hold the paper.
         "You never know with lunatics，"said the young man chattily."They
     don't
     always look barmy，you know.Often they seem just the same as you or
     me......"
         "I suppose they do，"said Mr Cust.
         "It's a fact.Sometimes it's the war what unhinged them-never been
     right
     since."
         "I-I expect you're right."
         "I don't hold with wars，"said the young man.
         His companion turned on him.
         "I don't hold with plague and sleeping sickness and famine and
     cancer......but they happen all the same!"
         "War's preventable，"said the young man with assurance.
         Mr Cust laughed.He laughed for some time.
         The young man was slightly alarmed.
         "He's a bit batty himself，"he thought.
         Aloud he said:
         "Sorry，sir，I expect you were in the war."
         "I was，"said Mr Cust."It-it-unsettled me.My head's never been
     right
     since.It aches，you know.Aches terribly."
         "Oh!I'm sorry about that，"said the young man awkwardly.
         "Sometimes I hardly know what I'm doing......"
         "Really?Well，I must be getting along，"said the young man and
     removed
     himself hurriedly.He knew what people were once they began to talk
     about
     their health.
         Mr Cust remained with his paper.
         He read and reread......
         People passed to and fro in front of him.
         Most of them were talking of the murder......
         "Awful......do you think it was anything to do with the
     Chinese?Wasn't
     the waitress in a Chinese cafe......"
         "Actually on the golf links......"
         "I heard it was on the beach......"
         "-but，darling，we took our tea to Elbury only yesterday......"
         "-police are sure to get him......"
         "-say he may be arrested any minute now......"
         "-quite likely he's in Torquay......that other woman was who
     murdered
     the what do you call'ems......"
         Mr Cust folded up the paper very neatly and laid it on the
     seat.Then he
     rose and walked sedately along towards the town.
         Girls passed him，girls in white and pink and blue，in summery
     frocks
     and pyjamas and shorts.They laughed and giggled.Their eyes appraised
     the men
     they passed.
         Not once did their eyes linger for a second on Mr Cust......
         He sat down at a little table and ordered tea and Devonshire
     cream......

next back