Have His Carcase

‘That’s just what I mean. You’ve got the word obsession, that’s it. Well, I don’t want the old lady to go wasting her time and money on an obsession. Look here, Wimsey, you’re a sound sort of fellow — brainy and all that can’t you put off this Bolshevik idea? She’s taken a notion that you and that Vane girl are encouraging her. Now, take it from me, old man, that kind of thing won’t do at all.’

Lord Peter delicately raised his eyebrows.

‘Of course,’ pursued Mr Weldon, ‘I see your game all right. You’re nuts on this kind of thing and it’s all a darn good advertisement, and it gives you a jolly good excuse for barging round with the girl. That’s quite all right. But it’s not quite the game to go playing my mother up, if you see what I mean. So I thought I’d just give you a hint. You won’t take offence?’

‘I am quite ready,’ said Lord Peter, ‘to take anything I am offered.’

Mr Weldon looked puzzled for a moment and then burst into a hearty laugh.

‘That’s good,’ he said, ‘dashed good. What was yours? Martell Three-Star? Here, Johnnie, same again for this gentleman.’

‘Thank you, no,’ said Wimsey. ‘You misunderstood me.’

‘Oh, come — another little spot won’t; do you any harm. No? Oh, well, if you won’t, you won’t.. Mine’s a Scotch, and-soda. Well, now, we understand one another, eh?’

‘Oh, yes. I think I understand you perfectly.!

‘Good. Glad to have this chance of putting you wise. Whole thing’s a nuisance, of course. Suppose we shall be stuck here, now till they’ve found the body and held an inquest. Don’t like these beastly watering-places. Suits you all right, I daresay. I like a bit more open air and none of this jazz and, dinner-jackets.’

‘Quite right,’ said Wimsey.

You think so eh? I was putting you down for something more in the West End. line. But I suppose you’re a bit of a’ sportsman, too? Huntin’, fishin’, that sort of thing, eh?’

‘I hunted pretty regularly with the Quorn and the Pytchley at one time, and I shoot and fish a bit,’ said Wimsey. ‘After all, I was brought up in the country, you know. My people have a, place in the — shires, and our headquarters is down in Norfolk, Duke’s Denver, on the borders of’ the Fen country.’

‘Oh, yes, of course. You’re Denver’s brother. Never seen the place, but I live in that part of the world myself — Huntingdonshire, not far from Ely.’

‘Oh, yes; I know that part pretty well. Fruit-farming country and all that. Flatfish, of course, but uncommonly good sort of soil.’

‘Nothing in farming these days,’, grumbled Mr Weldon.’ ‘Look at all this Russian wheat they’re dumpin’ in. As if things weren’t bad enough, already, with wages what they are, and taxes, and rates and tithe and insurance. I’ve got fifty acres of wheat. By the time it’s harvested I daresay it’ll have cost me 19 an acre. And what shall I get for, it? Lucky if I get five. How this damned Government expects the farmer to carry on, I don’t know. Damned if I don’t feel like: chucking it altogether sometimes and clearing out of this bloody country. Nothing much to stick round here for. I’m not married, thank God! Too much sense. If you take my advice you’ll do likewise. You must be pretty smart to have escaped; so long. Look as if you did yourself pretty well, too. Luckly your brother’s still a youngish man. Death-duties and all that. Cripple a place, don’t’ they? But I always thought he was a pretty warm man, for a duke. How’s he manage it?’

Wimsey explained that the Denver income was not derived from the Denver estate, which was a liability rather than an asset.

‘Oh, I see. Well, you’re lucky. Takes a man all he can do, to get his living off the land these days.’

‘Yes; I suppose you have to stick to it uncommonly closely. Up early and late. Nothing escapes the master’s eye. That sort of thing, what?’

‘Oh, yes — yes.’

‘It must be trying to be obliged to leave things and come down to Wilvercombe., How long do you think you’ll be here?’

‘Eh? Oh, I don’t know. Depends on this inquest, doesn’t it? I’ve left a man in charge, of course.’

‘Just so. Hadn’t we better get back and join the ladies?’

‘Ah!’ Mr Weldon dug his elbow into Lord Peter’s ribs.

‘Ladies, eh? You be careful, my boy. Getting to the dangerous age, aren’t you? If you ain’t careful, you’ll find yourself booked one of these days.’

‘Oh, I daresay I shall manage to keep my head out of the noose.’

‘Out of the — oh yes the matrimonial noose. Yes. Ha, ha! All right. I suppose we’d better go.’

Mr Weldon turned away from the bar rather abruptly. Wimsey, reflecting that the ability to swallow insult is a necessary part of the detective’s make-up, restrained the temptation to connect his toe with Mr Weldon’s rather massive hinder-end, and followed, ruminating.