Sleuth Page #12

Before nylon, what ?

Silk.

Then what else ?

What... else ?

Clock.

Stockings had clocks.

In olden days.

A glimpse.

Now you see it, now you don't.

Why don't I have a go at it ?

Just let me tell him you're here.

- Andrew.

- Hmm ?

Is it all right if I introduce Detective

Sergeant Tarrant and Constable Higgs ?

Oh, yes, of course !

Come in, gentlemen.

come in. Do.

I'm--

Or should I say,

Inspector Plodder and Constable Freshface.

Thank you, Sergeant.

We won't be needing you after all.

That's all right, sir.

Better to be safe than sorry.

That's what I always say, sir.

Good night, Sergeant.

Good night, sir.

Good night, Constable.

Good night, sir.

First, I suppose you'll

want to know about Tea.

She did call yesterday while I was

setting up the Doppler scene,

and I told her about the trick

that you played on me with the gun.

She wasn't a bit surprised.

She knows only too well the kind

of games you like to play--

the kind of humiliation you enjoy

inflicting on other people.

I explained to her that...

I wanted to play a game and get even with you,

and I asked her to lend me a stocking, a shoe,

a false eyelash, and that bracelet...

that you bought her.

And she was happy to help,

and so was her flatmate, Joyce.

Would you like to phone Tea ?

She'll talk to you now.

But then, you wouldn't have very

much to say to her, would you ?

She's not really your mistress, is she ?

She told me...

that you and her haven't made it together...

for over a year.

She also told me...

that you are practically impotent.

Not at all, in fact,

the selector's choice for the next Olympics.

I warned you, Andrew.

I don't play games for the sport !

Particularly not...

games of humiliation.

I know too much about that.

Where are you going ?

I'm going to get Marguerite's fur coat.

She's not coming back ?

No.

I live...

as I want to live.

You know, I've been thinking of

that writer you told me about,

and it is my opinion...

that your detective stories

are the normal recreation...

of snobbish, outdated,

life-hating, ignoble minds.

I'll get that fur coat now.

You'll see.

You'll see.

Inspector,

I was working in my study...

when I heard a noise in here.

So I took my revolver...

and I came in here...

to investigate.

Here was this young man...

running down the stairs...

with my wife's fur coat over his arm.

I shouted for him to stop,

but he wouldn't pay any attention,

but ran on towards the door,

hoping to make his escape.

Naturally, I fired.

I aimed low.

Believe me, Inspector, I did.

The most appalling thing happened.

I shot him dead.

That's all right, sir.

Don't distress yourself unduly.

A thing like that could happen to anyone.

I can't let you go now.

What do you mean ?

Going about... Telling everyone,

it's just not possible.

Who--whom would I tell ?

Who'd be interested ?

One person would be too many, even Marguerite.

Especially Marguerite.

What are you gonna do then, Andrew ?

Shoot me down ?

Play that old burglar game again ?

- That's right.

- It wouldn't work now.

No. Why not, I wonder ?

Because of what really happened

after I left here last friday night.

Oh. What really happened ?

I did lurch home...

dazed, dirty and humiliated.

And I sat up all night.

And in the morning, I went

to the Police station...

and I told them what you'd done to me.

And one of them, Detective Sergeant Tarrant--

Oh, yes, he's real--

he took me into a little room

and we had a long chat,

but I don't think he paid very much attention...

to anything I said.

So I thought to myself,

"he's not gonna do anything

about this."

No. Why not ?

You know the answer to that

just as well as I do.

In his eyes, I'm just some common little git...

who's been screwing the wife of a

local nob and got what he deserved.

So perhaps the Police won't

come by as I said they would.

But even if they don't, they'd never

believe that burglar story of yours.

Not now.

So, you see, you've lost.

You can't fool me anymore, Milo.

I haven't believed a single word

you've been saying.

It's the truth.

- Liar.

- Phone Sergeant Tarrant

if you don't believe me.

You come here and announce your intention...

to steal away my wife,

you pry into my manhood,

you lecture me on ignoble minds,

and you mock the creation of my life,

St. John Lord Merridew.

Well...

They're all real bullets this time.

The game's over, Andrew.

I'm going home now.

Milo, you do see...

I'm not really a very good games player.

I mean to say,

never play the same game three times running.

Andrew...

Don't forget:

be sure and tell them...

it was just...

a bloody game.

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