Чье тело? / Whose Body?

You shall see my body tonight, Parker, and I’ll look for your wandering Jew tomorrow. I feel so happy, I shall explode. O Sugg, Sugg, how art thou suggified! Bunter, my shoes. I say, Parker, I suppose yours are rubber-soled. Not? Tut, tut, you mustn’t go out like that. We’ll lend you a pair. Gloves? Here. My stick, my torch, the lampblack, the forceps, knife, pill-boxes – all complete?”

“Certainly, my lord.”

“Oh, Bunter, don’t look so offended. I mean no harm. I believe in you, I trust you – what money have I got? That’ll do.

I knew a man once, Parker, who let a world-famous poisoner slip through his fingers because the machine on the Underground took nothing but pennies. There was a queue at the booking office and the man at the barrier stopped him, and while they were arguing about accepting a five-pound-note (which was all he had) for a twopenny ride to Baker Street, the criminal had sprung into a Circle train, and was next heard of in Constantinople, disguised as an elderly Church of England clergyman touring with his niece. Are we all ready? Go!”

They stepped out, Bunter carefully switching off the lights behind them.

* * *

As they emerged into the gloom and gleam of Piccadilly, Wimsey stopped short with a little exclamation.

“Wait a second,” he said. “I’ve thought of something. If Sugg’s there he’ll make trouble. I must short-circuit him.”

He ran back, and the other two men employed the few minutes of his absence in capturing a taxi.

Inspector Sugg and a subordinate Cerberus were on guard at 59, Queen Caroline Mansions, and showed no disposition to admit unofficial inquirers. Parker, indeed, they could not easily turn away, but Lord Peter found himself confronted with a surly manner and what Lord Beaconsfield described as a masterly inactivity. It was in vain that Lord Peter pleaded that he had been retained by Mrs. Thipps on behalf of her son.

“Retained!” said Inspector Sugg, with a snort. “She’ll be retained if she doesn’t look out.

Shouldn’t wonder if she wasn’t in it herself, only she’s so deaf, she’s no good for anything at all.”

“Look here, Inspector,” said Lord Peter, “what’s the use of bein’ so bally obstructive? You’d much better let me in – you know I’ll get there in the end. Dash it all, it’s not as if I was takin’ the bread out of your children’s mouths. Nobody paid me for finding Lord Attenbury’s emeralds for you.