your husband, you mean? Yes, he’s up on an upper floor, I think. Dropping things, he was. Yes, rather heavy things, too. Must have been some books, I think.’
‘Books!’ said Tuppence. ‘Well I never!’
The electrician retreated down into his own personal underworld in the passage and Tuppence went up to the attic converted to the extra book library at present devoted to children’s books.
Tommy was sitting on the top of a pair of steps. Several books were around him on the floor and there were noticeable gaps in the shelves.
‘So there you are,’ said Tuppence, ‘after pretending you weren’t interested or anything. You’ve been looking at lots of books, haven’t you? You’ve disarranged a lot of the things that I put away so neatly.’
‘Well, I’m sorry about that,’ said Tommy, ‘but, well I thought I’d perhaps just have a look round.’
‘Did you find any other books that have got any underlined things in them in red ink?’
‘No. Nothing else.’
‘How annoying,’ said Tuppence.
‘I think it must have been Alexander’s work, Master Alexander Parkinson,’ said Tommy.
‘That’s right,’ said Tuppence. ‘One of the Parkinsons, the numerous Parkinsons.’
‘Well, I think he must have been rather a lazy boy, although of course, it must have been rather a bother doing that underlining and all. But there’s no more information re Jordan,’ said Tommy.
‘I asked old Isaac. He knows a lot of people round here. He says he doesn’t remember any Jordans.’
‘What are you doing with that brass lamp you’ve got by the front door?’ asked Tommy, as he came downstairs.
‘I’m taking it to the White Elephant Sale,’ said Tuppence.
‘Why?’
‘Oh, because it’s always been a thorough nuisance. We bought it somewhere abroad, didn’t we?’
‘Yes, I think we must have been mad. You never liked it. You said you hated it. Well, I agree. And it’s awfully heavy too, very heavy.’
‘But Miss Sanderson was terribly pleased when I said that they could have it. She offered to fetch it but I said I’d run it down to them in the car. It’s today we take the thing.’
‘I’ll run down with it if you like.’
‘No, I’d rather like to go.’
‘All right,’ said Tommy. ‘Perhaps I’d better come with you and just carry it in for you.’
‘Oh, I think I’ll find someone who’ll carry it in for me,’ said Tuppence.
‘Well, you might or you might not. Don’t go and strain yourself.’
‘All right,’ said Tuppence.
‘You’ve got some other reason for wanting to go, haven’t you?’
‘Well, I just thought I’d like to chat a bit with people,’ said Tuppence.
‘I never know what you’re up to, Tuppence, but I know the look in your eye when you are up to something.’
‘You take Hannibal for a walk,’ said Tuppence. ‘I can’t take him to the White Elephant Sale. I don’t want to get into a dog-fight.’
‘All right. Want to go for a walk, Hannibal?’
Hannibal, as was his habit, immediately replied in the affirmative. His affirmatives and his negatives were always quite impossible to miss. He wriggled his body, wagged his tail, raised one paw, put it down again and came and rubbed his head hard against Tommy’s leg.
‘That’s right,’ he obviously said, ‘that’s what you exist for, my dear slave. We’re going out for a lovely walk down the street. Lots of smells, I hope.’
‘Come on,’ said Tommy. ‘I’ll take the lead with me, and don’t run into the road as you did the last time. One of those awful great “long vehicles” was nearly the end of you.’
Hannibal looked at him with the expression of ‘I’m always a very good dog who’ll do exactly what I am told.’ False as the statement was, it often succeeded in deceiving even those people who were in closest contact with Hannibal.
Tommy put the brass lamp into the car, murmuring it was rather heavy. Tuppence drove off in the car. Having seen her turn the corner, Tommy attached the lead to Hannibal’s collar and took him down the street. Then he turned up the lane towards the church, and removed Hannibal’s lead since very little traffic came up this particular road. Hannibal acknowledged the privilege by grunting and sniffing in various tufts of grass with which the pavement next to the wall was adorned. If he could have used human language it was clear that what he would have said was: ‘Delicious! Very rich. Big dog here. Believe it’s that beastly Alsatian.’ Low growl. ‘I don’t like Alsatians. If I see the one again that bit me once I’ll bite him. Ah! Delicious, delicious. Very nice little bitch here. Yes—yes—I’d like to meet her. I wonder if she lives far away. Expect she comes out of this house. I wonder now.’
‘Come out of that gate, now,’ said Tommy. ‘Don’t go into a house that isn’t yours.’
Hannibal pretended not to hear.
‘Hannibal!’
Hannibal redoubled his speed and turned a corner which led towards the kitchen.
‘Hannibal!’ shouted Tommy. ‘Do you hear me?’
‘Hear you, Master?’ said Hannibal. ‘Were you calling me? Oh yes, of course.’
A sharp bark from inside the kitchen caught his ear. He scampered out to join Tommy. Hannibal walked a few inches behind Tommy’s heel.
‘Good boy,’ said Tommy.
‘I am a good boy, aren’t I?’ said Hannibal. ‘Any moment you need me to defend you, here I am less than a foot away.’
They had arrived at a side gate which led into the churchyard. Hannibal, who in some way had an extraordinary knack of altering his size when he wanted to, instead of appearing somewhat broad-shouldered, possibly a somewhat too plump dog, he could at any moment make himself like a thin black thread. He now squeezed himself through the bars of the gate with no difficulty at all.
‘Come back, Hannibal,’ called Tommy. ‘You can’t go into the churchyard.’
Hannibal’s answer to that, if there had been any, would have been, ‘I am in the churchyard already, Master.’ He was scampering gaily round the churchyard with the air of a dog who has been let out in a singularly pleasant garden.
‘You awful dog!’ said Tommy.
He unlatched the gate, walked in and chased Hannibal, lead in hand. Hannibal was now
