Read Online The Map of Chaos by Félix J. Palma - Free Book Online

captain gave Clayton advice on romantic matters, giving rise to a scene of paternal solicitude the inspector found excruciatingly embarrassing. All the more so because Captain Sinclair, who was incapable of plain speaking, had employed so many metaphors and euphemisms that the two men had ended their conversation without ever knowing what the devil they had been talking about.
    â€œIn a nutshell: young as you are,” Chief Constable Dombey was summing up, “you have a remarkable mind, Inspector Clayton. I doubt that anyone sitting at this table would disagree with that. Although, I admit that, to begin with, your methods seemed to me, er . . . somewhat impetuous,” he declared, smiling at Clayton with exaggerated politeness.
    The inspector instantly returned his smile, only too aware that the chief constable was unable to resist ending his speech on a critical note, making it clear to everyone present that although these two gentlemen from London had succeeded in solving the case, they had done so only by resorting to unorthodox methods, which he considered beneath him.
    â€œI understand that my actions might have appeared impetuous to you, Chief Constable,” Clayton said good-naturedly. “In fact, that was precisely the impression I wished to give our adversary. However, everything I did was the outcome of deep reflection and the most painstaking deductive reasoning, for which I am indebted to my mentor, Captain Sinclair here. He deserves all the credit,” Clayton added with false modesty, bowing slightly to his superior, who nodded indulgently.
    â€œWhy, I understood that from the outset!” Doctor Russell hastened to declare. “It is with good reason that a doctor uses science on a daily basis in the pursuit of his work. Unlike the chief constable here, I didn’t allow your youth and apparent inexperience to put me off, Inspector Clayton. I know a scientific mind when I see one.”
    The chief constable gave a loud guffaw, causing his enormous belly to wobble.
    â€œWho are you trying to fool, Russell!” he protested, jabbing his fork at him. “Your scientific approach consisted in systematically suspecting all the townsfolk, including old Mrs. Sproles, who is nigh on a hundred and confined to a wheelchair.”
    The doctor was about to respond when the butcher piped up.
    â€œSince you’re mentioning everyone else’s failings, Chief Constable, you might recall your own and apologize for having so readily cast aspersions on others.”
    â€œI assure you, had you owned a cat instead of that enormous hound, I would never have—”
    But before the chief constable could finish, the countess spoke up from the far end of the table. Everyone turned toward her in amazement, for Valerie de Bompard’s tinkling voice had risen above theirs with the delicacy of a dove amid a flock of crows.
    â€œGentlemen, we are all understandably exhausted after recent events.” She had a hint of a French accent that gave her words a charming lightness. “However, Inspector Clayton is our honored guest, and I am afraid we risk making his head spin with our petty squabbling. You will notice, Inspector,” she addressed Clayton with an almost childlike zeal, “that I say ‘our,’ for despite having arrived in this country as a foreigner only a short time ago I already feel I am English. Not for nothing have the good people of Blackmoor clasped me to their bosom as if they had known me since birth.” Despite the countess’s friendly tone, her mocking words fell upon the gathering like a cold, unpleasant rain. “Which is why I should like to thank you once more, on behalf of everyone here, for what you have done for us, for our beloved Blackmoor.”
    She raised her glass between slender fingers, so daintily that it looked as if she had willed it to levitate. The others instantly followed suit. “Gentlemen, these have been evil