Free The Resurrection Man by Charlotte MacLeod Page B

thing?”
    “Don’t ask me, unless it was a crazy Eskimo who took George for a walrus. Anything’s possible these days, the whole world’s gone crazy. A fine way for my mother’s daughter to wind up a widow, thank God mother’s not around to see this day. Sarah, you tell Max I want him to find that brute and bring him to me. After I get through with him, this fellow here can come and gather up the pieces. What did you say your name was?”
    “Lieutenant Levitan, ma’am. It’s not Mr. Bittersohn’s job to find the perp—er, the criminal. It’s up to the police, that’s what people like you are paying us for.”
    “Bah. Then what are you standing around here for? Why aren’t you out perping?”
    “Because I’m still hoping to get some help from you, Mrs. Protheroe. You say you woke up at seven o’clock this morning. Did something wake you?”
    “Yes, a full bladder. Write that down so you won’t forget. Do you want the full details, or will you take my word for it that I went to the bathroom, did what I’d gone for, then came back to get my robe and slippers? I know, you’re about to ask why I didn’t put on the robe and slippers before I went. The answer is that I was in too much of a hurry. The reason I put them on when I did is that it looked like a pleasant morning. Instead of going back to bed, I decided to make myself some tea and toast and take it out to the back veranda. It’s cool then, and I like to watch the early birds catching their worms. My cook and maid can testify that this is something I often do in the summertime. We don’t normally have breakfast till nine, and I like a little something while I’m waiting. Their feelings are always hurt because I don’t wake Cook to make the tea and Phyllis to carry it out to me. Why should I? They need their rest, and I find it far less bother to wait on myself. Less bother to me, anyway. I always leave the kitchen in a mess and they have the fun of cleaning up.
    “So that’s what you did this morning?”
    “No, that’s what I meant to do. What I did was stumble over my husband’s body at the foot of the stairs. Don’t ask me what I did after that, because I can’t remember. I think I sat down beside him. I must have stayed like that quite some time; I was still there when Sarah came, whenever that was. I do remember thinking I ought to take the spear out. It looked so dreadfully uncomfortable, sticking up out of him. George hated being uncomfortable.”
    “Did you touch the spear at all, Mrs. Protheroe?”
    “No, I just couldn’t. I was afraid something vital might come with it. This was a new experience for me, you see. I’m afraid I’m not handling it very well. I’d always thought of myself as a fairly commonsensical person but one never knows, does one? Do you think I’ve got hardening of the arteries, George? I’m sorry, Jim. My grandmother used to say that if you accidentally spoke the name of an absent person, it meant that he was thinking about you. Poor George, maybe he’s thinking of me now, wherever he is. I’m going to miss him horribly, you know.”
    Sarah hugged the bereft old woman a little harder. “Of course you are. But you couldn’t miss George unless you’d had him, Anora. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have someone to miss. There’s nothing the matter with her, is there, Dr. Harnett? Don’t you think what happened is that Anora went into shock? That’s a perfectly normal reaction. Wouldn’t you say so?”
    “Certainly I would. No doubt you do have some hardening of the arteries, Anora, as anyone your age naturally would; but I can’t see any sign that it’s affecting your mind. Do you remember anything else about when you were sitting there with George?”
    “Well, I do recall thinking that I must do something about George before Cook and Phyllis came down and went into fits. I’d managed to convince myself by then that he really was dead. He was so cold, and he hadn’t moved, and his eyes were