Have His Carcase

He had had them in 1927, and they were good razors, though they had been badly treated and were considerably worn when they came into his hands. He had one of them still, and it was doing good service. Perhaps his lordship ‘would like to look at it. Here it was.

Wimsey, with a beating heart, turned it over in his hands. It was the exact duplicate of the razor that Harriet had, found on the shore. He examined it carefully, but found no crack in the ivory. But what, he asked, almost afraid to put — the question for fear of disappointment, what had become of the fellow to it?

‘Now that, my lord,’ said Mr Merryweather, ‘I unfortunately cannot show you. Had I known it would be wanted, I certainly would never have parted with it I sold that razor, my lord, only a few weeks ago, to one of these tramping fellows that came here looking for a job. I had no work for him here, and to tell you the truth, my lord, I wouldn’t have given it to him if I had. You’d be surprised, the number of these men who come round, and half of them are no more skilled hairdressers than my tom-cat. Just out for what they can pick up, that’s what they are. We generally give them a few razors to set, just to see what they’re made of, and the way they set about it, you can tell, nine times out of ten, that they’ve never set a razor their lives.’ Well, this one was like that, and I told him he could push off. Then he asked me if I could sell him a second-hand razor, so I sold him this one to get rid of him. He paid for it and away he went, and that’s the last I saw of him.’

‘What was he like?’

‘Oh, a little rat of a fellow. Sandy-haired and too smooth in his manner by half. Not so tall as your lordship, he wasn’t, and if I remember rightly he was a bit — not deformed, but what I might call crooked. He might have had one shoulder a trifle higher than the other. Nothing very noticeable, but he, gave me that impression. No, he wasn’t lame or anything of that kind.; Quite spry, he seemed, and quick in his movements. He had rather pale eyes, with sandy eyelashes — an ugly little devil, if you’ll excuse me. Very well-kept hands — one notices that, because, of course, when a man asks, for a job in this kind of establishment, that’s one of the first things one looks for. Dirty or bitten nails, for instance, are what one couldn’t stand for for a moment. Let me see, now. Oh, yes — he spoke very well. Spoke like a gentleman, very refined and quiet. That’s a thing one notices, too. Not that it’s of any great account in a neighbourhood like this. Our customers are sometimes a roughish lot. But one can’t help notice, you see, when one’s been used to it. Besides, it gives one an idea what kind of place a man has been used to.’

‘Did this man say anything about where he had been employed previously?’

‘Not that I remember. My impression of him was that he’d been; out of employment for a goodish time, and wasn’t too, keen on giving details. He said he was on his own. There’s plenty of them do that — want you to believe they have their own place in Bond Street and only lost their money through unexampled misfortunes. You know the sort, I expect, my lord. But I didn’t pay a lot of attention to the man, not liking the look of him.’

‘I suppose he gave a name.’

‘I suppose he did, come to think of it, but I’m dashed if I know what it was, Henry! What did that sneaking little red-haired fellow that came here the other day say his name was? The man that bought that razor off me?’

Henry, a youth with a crest like a cockatoo, who apparently lodged with his employer, laid aside the Sunday paper which he had been unsuccessfully pretending to read.

‘Well, now,’ he said, ‘I don’t remember, Mr Merryweather. Some ordinary name. Was it Brown, now? I think it was Brown.

‘No, it wasn’t,’ said Mr — Merryweather, suddenly enlightened. ‘It was Bright, that’s what it was. Because don’t you remember me saying he didn’t act up to his name when it came to setting razors?’

‘That’s right,’ said Henry. ‘Of course. Bright. What’s’ the matter with him? Been getting into trouble?’

‘I shouldn’t wonder if he had,’ said Wimsey.

‘Police?’ suggested Henry, with a sparkling countenance.

‘Now, Henry,’ said Mr Merryweather. ‘Does his lordship here look as if he was the police? I’m surprised at you. You’ll never make your way in this profession if you ‘don’t know better than that’

Henry blushed.

‘I’m not the police,’ said Wimsey, ‘but I shouldn’t be surprised if the police did want to get hold of Mr Bright one of these days. But don’t you say anything about that. Only, if you should happen to see Mr Bright again, at any time, you might let me know. I’m staying at Wilvercombe at the moment — at the Bellevue but in case I’m not’ there, this address will always find me.’