“It has to be one of us!” Avery said, excitedly.
Strange, Flix thought, the eagerness in her voice betrayed enthusiasm, not unlike an owner’s excitement when his prize horse wins a race. He would have expected horror or anger.
“Don’t you see,” Avery went on, breathlessly, “we are all locked up in this prison! I mean, we sign ourselves in, but still, it’s like a prison. We’re all here, trapped in a golden cage of our own making!”
“Speak for yourself, Miss Hypochondriac,” George muttered. “I am an unwilling inmate.” IS AN IMNATE, BUT HE SIGNED HIMSELF IN.
“Oh, jeez Louise! Don’t be such a martyr, Crumpled Man!” Avery said, staring down at George in his wheelchair.
“You’re so smart, Avery,” George said. “And so utterly spoiled! You know it all, don’t you? Well, Miss Smarty Pants, what about the legions of visitors who tromp in and out of this place all the time?
There must be scores!
Unobserved by you, you little self-centered, dumb Dora,” George said. “Pray tell me, little Avery-know-it-all, what does that do to your little theory that it has to be one of us?”
The group had gathered in the main dining room at the request of the local authorities.
George, who now had their undivided attention, continued, “Friends. Members of Loony Binville, let me strike a match to the wicks of your dimly lit brains. There are any number of people who come and go from this posh establishment.
Why, you, Madam Hood, I dare say you have a whole squadron of illustrious and infamous acquaintances who have graced these immaculate grounds. Casamir comes weekly, does he not, Mrs. Hood? And what lovely, exotic potions does he bring you?
And you, grumpy Gusblus.” George said to Mr. Birmingham-Hill, “that chauffeur of yours drop you off at any tea pads, this week?”
Mr. Birmingham-Hill, obviously insulted, rose to leave.
“Say that again, you insolent, little cretin, and I will sue you for slander. Filthy lies. I will not stand for such from you, even if you are a pathetic, vulgar cripple.”
“Oh, boo yah!” cried George. “Touched a nerve, I do believe. Think you’re too good to breathe the same air as the rest of us mortals, Hilly!
And no, I do not entertain that our Mr. Birmingham-Hill haunts the tea pads in the city. He’s too tightly strung and too hoity-toity to smoke reefer. Might find he likes it if he would ever try it! Ha! Ha! Loosen up his cummerbund.”
George focused on Avery, who sat demurely across the room, exuding sex appeal like a Vermont maple, just tapped.
“And you, my little Sheba,” George began.
“Oh, dry up, Crimble Man. Nosy, old busybody! You always stick your schnoz into everyone’s beeswax! Nothing better to do.
Who do you think you are?
What about that friend of yours, George, who comes round like clockwork! Every Wednesday. Nasty little bohunk and the perpendicular paraplegic,” Avery muttered.
“Tell us all about your new beau, my little Sheba,” George said. “He’s a WASP if I ever saw one, in that sporty little roadster of his! I watched him mooning outside your window, last night. It was way past midnight. Any sensible fellow would have been at home snoring loudly enough to wake the dead!”
“Easton? Easton was here last night?” Avery said. “But, I didn’t know. I was sound asleep.”
“Well,” George said, triumphantly, “I was not, being the incurable insomniac that I am.”
“Well, I see you all have gathered as ordered,” said Dr. Quintland, the director of Beastly House. “The police shall be here, presently. I think they wish to question each one of us.”
“You, too?” Dabney asked.
“Yes, Dabney. I am a suspect, as well,” said the doctor.
“I say Flix. What are you looking for? You’ve searched your pocket so many times, I should think you would have worn a hole in it by now,” Wolcott said.
“My pipe. I am sure I had it with me, but I just cannot seem to find it.”
“Here’s your grubby old pipe,” Avery said, handing it to him.
“Where on earth did you find it?” Flix asked.
“Oh, I dunno. You must have put it down. Absent minded of you.”
“I suppose,” Flix said, warily eyeing the young girl.
How had she slipped it from his pocket without his knowledge? He did not know. She’s good, he thought. Damned good.
He’d have to keep his eye on her, he decided.