Eye For A Tooth by Dornford Yates Read Free Book Online

Latchet one Monday night and had seen him met by a car on the Salzburg road. They had waited until his return, in about two hours, and had heard him make an appointment for just such another meeting in three nights’ time. The next day they had taken their car and had reconnoitred the place. It was then that they had marked the track in which the car was now berthed. On Thursday they had arrived before the daylight was gone, had left their car on the track and had made their way to the path. It was after night had fallen that Bowshot had come. They had let him go by to his meeting, and, as before, had waited for his return. It was then that ‘the accident’ had happened – sullenly enough, the murderers showed the place.
    “And then?” snapped Forecast.
    “We pulled out the tab, as you said, and then we took him back an’ laid him full in the road.”
    “Show me the place again.”
    In silence the four proceeded as far as the ditch.
    Then–
    “It was just along there,” said Gulf. “Jus’ short o’ that culvert. We ’ad a job, I remember, to get ’im out o’ the ditch.”
    There was a little silence. Then—
    “Have you any doubt he was dead?”
    “’E was dead all right,” said Boney.
    “That’s right,” said Gulf. “The – the car wot hit him done in his spinal cord.”
    There was another silence.
    “Did you meet any cars when you left?”
    “Nothing,” said Gulf. “We turned at the first crossroads.”
    “He was found, of course,” mused Forecast. “The body was found. But why wasn’t it reported?”
    Nobody answered, and presently he went on.
    “Why didn’t the inn report that he didn’t come back?” In a sudden passion, he turned on the man called ‘China,’ “And you said that you could talk German!”
    “So I can,” declared China. “I learned it off of a deck–’ and wot came from Bruges. But they talk a dialec’ here.”
    “You filthy liar,” said Forecast. “You can’t talk a — word. But that’s for later. Some — shifted that body to suit himself. A gypsy, as like as not, that fancied his purse. But he didn’ want no trouble; so, when he’d robbed him, he dragged him into the ditch. Give me that torch.”
    Now between where he stood and the culvert, the ditch was resembling a trench, being fully six feet deep and not more than three feet wide. Add to this that Nature had taken a hand and that the sides as well as the bottom were thick with ferns. It follows that, standing above, a man could by no means be sure what was lying below, and, after some fruitless endeavours to plumb the depths with its beam, Forecast handed the torch to China and told him to hold it whilst he got into the ditch.
    Mansel breathed in my ear.
    “Get hold of the others, William. Everyone back to the cars and wait there for me.”
    As I turned to the path, I saw China kneeling down by the edge of the ditch. Then the torch left his hand for Forecast’s, and the light which it gave disappeared.
    As I made the path, I felt a touch on my shoulder and there was Bell. (He was a splendid servant. Whenever I wanted something, he always seemed to be there: indeed, I think the truth is that in such a business as this he was always watching me with the tail of his eye and could interpret whatever movement I made.)
    “Can you find the others, Bell?”
    “Yes, sir. We’re all in touch.”
    “Then pass the word – we’re all to go back to the cars.”
    “Very good, sir.”
    As he moved away, I turned to look at the ditch. In that moment a match was struck, and I saw three forms together lighting their cigarettes. Then the match went out, and I moved again. I wondered how Forecast was faring – and whether Mansel had decided to take a hand. I reached the ditch and looked down it. Forecast was making good progress, for, not very far from the culvert, I saw the glow of the torch. But the others had not moved with him – their cigarettes told me that. And as I looked, they sat down…
    I