Read Online Death of an Elgin Marble by David Dickinson - Free Book Online

and even now Johnny was still ashamed of his younger self, he had to crawl to the bathroom with the decorations on the carpet and the pictures in the hall hurtling through his brain like a series of shooting stars. Sometimes Sokratis spoke in Greek. On other occasions a phrase would leap out and seem to hold some special meaning known only to the speaker. ‘The Isles of Greece’ occurred over and over again, spoken with a series of nods as if Sokratis expected his listeners to share his meaning. Fragments of poetry seemed to crop up time after time. ‘I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep,’ came five times in a row. It was followed by ‘where is it now, the glory and the dream’. After that a short burst of weeping and then, raising himself up till he was semi-upright in his bed, he screamed, ‘shades of the prison-house, shades of the prison-house,’ and sank back on his bed. The breathing was shallow and very fast. Beads of perspiration glistened on his forehead and ran down the side of his face. The nurse continued to hold his left hand as if he were a small child in the middle of a nightmare. Now Sokratis looked as though he might pass out or pass away. Johnny had to lean forward to catch the next words, ‘Got to go to the High City,’ got to go to the High City, the High City.’ Then he turned onto his side and spoke no more.
    The nurse showed Johnny to the door as quickly and as quietly as she could. ‘Let us all remember our God, whoever and wherever he is,’ she whispered, ‘now and in the hour of our death, amen.’

5
    Inspector Kingsley had not yet heard of the Isles of Greece when he met with Deputy Director Ragg the following day to discuss the Booklet for the Young, as the policeman now referred to it.
    ‘Capital idea, capital!’ cried Ragg, rubbing his hands together. ‘Why didn’t we think of it ourselves? The Director will be so pleased, he’s always keen to involve the next generation. Our Head of Greek and Roman Antiquities should be back from the Alps in a couple of days, he too will be delighted. I shall issue instructions for everybody to give you their full cooperation. Perhaps you could wait twenty-four hours before you embark on your enquiries? That would be splendid.’
    ‘Thank you so much,’ said Inspector Kingsley. ‘I have some disappointing news, I fear, Mr Deputy Director. Not that I find it disappointing, for I had few hopes of success, but it does not take us any further forward.’
    He paused and drew a couple of letters from his pocket. ‘You will recall that my superiors wished to send the blackmail letter to a couple of so-called handwriting experts?’ It sounded as though he thought his superiors should have been arrested immediately and locked up in Newgate for even harbouring such an idea.
    ‘You will not be surprised to hear,’ Kingsley went on, ‘that their reports are totally without value.’ He looked down at them distastefully. ‘There’s a whole lot of nonsense about pressure of downward strokes, upward inclination of the line indicating an optimistic temperament, decisive dottings of the i’s and so on. The upshot, to conflate the two reports, is that the author is a middle-aged man, possibly with violent temperament, of determined and decisive character who may stop at nothing to get what he wants. Bravo, say I. Tom Thumb himself could have told us as much as that.’
    ‘Never mind,’ said Deputy Director Ragg, ‘I thought it might be unprofitable. But tell me this, Inspector. Your men are patrolling my house and watching over my family day and night. I am most grateful. Today or tomorrow, by my calculations, we should hear from the blackmailer again even though the museum has followed your Commissioner’s advice not to get in touch with him at all. Do you think I shall receive another letter? That the blackguard will write again?’
    ‘I’m sure you’ll hear from him again, Mr Ragg.