Read Online The Case of the Petrified Man by Caroline Lawrence - Free Book Online
Authors: Caroline Lawrence
Ads: Link
because the feet sticking out were bloodless & very still.
I thought, “This must be the morgue Jace told me about.”
It was the strangest room I had ever seen for it had curved walls made partly of brick and partly of rock, as well as a rooftwo stories high. I tipped my head back and looked up. I could see threads of light where sunshine showed gaps in the planks. That roof was not very sturdy. If I had jumped onto it from my window, I might have crashed right through & fallen two stories & landed on one of the corpses.
I looked at the body more closely.
There was something not quite right about the corpse beneath its sheet. I tilted my head to one side, to try to figure out what.
Then I had it: the body seemed to be in two parts.
I went over to it & lifted the sheet to make sure.
The man had been cut in two at the waist. The division was straight, but not a neat cut such as a saw would make. It was messy. I reckoned the poor man had been run over by the wheel of a Quartz Wagon or a Stagecoach.
“What the h-ll are you doing in my morgue?” A man’s angry voice made me jump & I whirled to see the man with the bushy whiskers & the walking stick. “Who the h-ll are you?” he said.
“My name is P.K. Pinkerton,” I said. “Are you Mr. G.T. Sewall, Coroner? If so, I would like to see the report of the inquest on Miss Sally Sampson. I want to know if she was strangulated or cut.”
He stared at me goggle-eyed, opening and closing his mouth like a trout. I reckoned that was Expression No. 4: Surprise.
Getting no reply, I said, “I am a Private Eye. I have been hired to find the Killer of Sally Sampson.”
“What?” he spluttered. “A Private Eye? By God! I’ll bet thatdam varmint Clemens put you up to this, didn’t he?” He strode out of the morgue & went to the window of his office & peered out into the alley. “I told him not to show his face again. Is he lurking out there?” He returned to the morgue & raised his walking stick. “Where is he? Tell me or I’ll thrash you!”
“Mr. Sam Clemens had nothing to do with this,” I said.
“Then how the h-ll do you know that varmint’s Christian name?” he cried. He drew back his silver-tipped walking stick & swung for me hard.
I ducked & heard the cane whistle through the air only inches above my head.
The Coroner was between me and the door, blocking my escape. I had no choice but to retreat. I ducked down under the table with the two-part corpse & then shrank back as his cane came down again.
CRACK!
He gave the table leg a blow so violent that one of the corpse’s arms slipped down. The hand dangled only a few inches before my eyes. I could see that the fingernails were ragged & grimy. I deduced the dead man had been a miner, or maybe a prospector.
CRACK!
No time to ponder details such as dirty fingernails now. I feinted to the right, then scrambled around to the left. I am sorry to say I jostled the table a little & in so doing I made the top half of the corpse fall onto the floor with a splat.
The Coroner leapt back & let loose with a torrent of profanities unfit for publication.
I ran out of the morgue & tore through the outer room & into the bright October morning & down the alley to the C Street boardwalk with its welcome tinkle of piano music & the faint thudding of Quartz Mill Stamps.
I stopped to take a deep breath of the sage-scented air & glanced behind me, just to make sure the Coroner was not in hot pursuit.
He was.
Ledger Sheet 16
COME BACK, YOU scallywag!” bellowed the Coroner, Mr. G.T. Sewall. “I am going to thrash you!”
As I fled through the crowds of people, I felt the Coroner’s heavy, jarring footsteps behind me. They caused the whole boardwalk to bounce. His bellowed profanities made the crowds part before us like the Red Sea before Moses. I jumped down from the boardwalk & flew down steep Taylor to D Street & made a sharp left. Here I slowed to a fast walk & clamped my arms to my sides & made myself narrow
I thought, “This must be the morgue Jace told me about.”
It was the strangest room I had ever seen for it had curved walls made partly of brick and partly of rock, as well as a rooftwo stories high. I tipped my head back and looked up. I could see threads of light where sunshine showed gaps in the planks. That roof was not very sturdy. If I had jumped onto it from my window, I might have crashed right through & fallen two stories & landed on one of the corpses.
I looked at the body more closely.
There was something not quite right about the corpse beneath its sheet. I tilted my head to one side, to try to figure out what.
Then I had it: the body seemed to be in two parts.
I went over to it & lifted the sheet to make sure.
The man had been cut in two at the waist. The division was straight, but not a neat cut such as a saw would make. It was messy. I reckoned the poor man had been run over by the wheel of a Quartz Wagon or a Stagecoach.
“What the h-ll are you doing in my morgue?” A man’s angry voice made me jump & I whirled to see the man with the bushy whiskers & the walking stick. “Who the h-ll are you?” he said.
“My name is P.K. Pinkerton,” I said. “Are you Mr. G.T. Sewall, Coroner? If so, I would like to see the report of the inquest on Miss Sally Sampson. I want to know if she was strangulated or cut.”
He stared at me goggle-eyed, opening and closing his mouth like a trout. I reckoned that was Expression No. 4: Surprise.
Getting no reply, I said, “I am a Private Eye. I have been hired to find the Killer of Sally Sampson.”
“What?” he spluttered. “A Private Eye? By God! I’ll bet thatdam varmint Clemens put you up to this, didn’t he?” He strode out of the morgue & went to the window of his office & peered out into the alley. “I told him not to show his face again. Is he lurking out there?” He returned to the morgue & raised his walking stick. “Where is he? Tell me or I’ll thrash you!”
“Mr. Sam Clemens had nothing to do with this,” I said.
“Then how the h-ll do you know that varmint’s Christian name?” he cried. He drew back his silver-tipped walking stick & swung for me hard.
I ducked & heard the cane whistle through the air only inches above my head.
The Coroner was between me and the door, blocking my escape. I had no choice but to retreat. I ducked down under the table with the two-part corpse & then shrank back as his cane came down again.
CRACK!
He gave the table leg a blow so violent that one of the corpse’s arms slipped down. The hand dangled only a few inches before my eyes. I could see that the fingernails were ragged & grimy. I deduced the dead man had been a miner, or maybe a prospector.
CRACK!
No time to ponder details such as dirty fingernails now. I feinted to the right, then scrambled around to the left. I am sorry to say I jostled the table a little & in so doing I made the top half of the corpse fall onto the floor with a splat.
The Coroner leapt back & let loose with a torrent of profanities unfit for publication.
I ran out of the morgue & tore through the outer room & into the bright October morning & down the alley to the C Street boardwalk with its welcome tinkle of piano music & the faint thudding of Quartz Mill Stamps.
I stopped to take a deep breath of the sage-scented air & glanced behind me, just to make sure the Coroner was not in hot pursuit.
He was.
Ledger Sheet 16
COME BACK, YOU scallywag!” bellowed the Coroner, Mr. G.T. Sewall. “I am going to thrash you!”
As I fled through the crowds of people, I felt the Coroner’s heavy, jarring footsteps behind me. They caused the whole boardwalk to bounce. His bellowed profanities made the crowds part before us like the Red Sea before Moses. I jumped down from the boardwalk & flew down steep Taylor to D Street & made a sharp left. Here I slowed to a fast walk & clamped my arms to my sides & made myself narrow
Similar Books
