Lord Peter Views the Body by Dorothy L. Sayers Read Free Book Online Page A

It was the most impressive and dramatic moment in his whole career. His magnificent calm rebuked the clamorous nobility surrounding him.
        ‘Your grace,’ he said, ‘there is no cause for alarm. Our measures have been taken. We have the criminals and the gems, thanks to Lord Peter Wimsey, from whom we received inf—’
        ‘Charles!’ said Lord Peter in an awful voice.
        ‘Warning of the attempt. One of our men is just bringing in the male criminal at the front door, taken red-handed with your grace’s diamonds in his possession.’ (All gazed round, and perceived indeed the check-capped lounger and a uniformed constable entering with the flower-seller between them.) ‘The female criminal, who picked the lock of your grace’s safe, is – here! No you don’t,’ he added, as Célestine, amid a torrent of apache language which nobody, fortunately, had French enough to understand, attempted to whip out a revolver from the bosom of her demure black dress. ‘Célestine Berger,’ he continued, pocketing the weapon. ‘I arrest you in the name of the law, and I warn you that anything you say will be taken down and used as evidence against you.’
        ‘Heaven help us,’ said Lord Peter; ‘the roof would fly off the court. And you’ve got the name wrong, Charles. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you Jacques Lerouge, known as Sans-culotte – the youngest and cleverest thief, safe-breaker, and female impersonator that ever occupied a dossier in the Palais de Justice.’
        There was a gasp. Jacques Sans-culotte gave vent to a low oath and cocked a gamin grimace at Peter.
        ‘C’est parfait,’ said he; ‘toutes mes félicitations, milord, what you call a fair cop, hein? And now I know him,’ he added, grinning at Bunter, ‘the so-patient Englishman who stand behind us in the queue at St Lazare. But tell me, please, how you know me, that I may correct it, next time .’
        ‘I have mentioned to you before, Charles,’ said Lord Peter, ‘the unwisdom of falling into habits of speech: They give you away. Now, in France, every male child is brought up to use masculine adjectives about himself. He says: Que je suis beau. But a little girl has it rammed home to her that she is female; she must say: Que je suis belle! It must make it beastly hard to be a female impersonator. When I am at a station and I hear an excited young woman say to her companion, “Me prends-tu pour un imbécile” – the masculine article arouses curiosity. And that’s that!’ he concluded briskly. ‘The rest was merely a matter of getting Bunter to take a photograph and communicating with our friends of the Sûreté and Scotland Yard.’
        Jacques Sans-culotte bowed again.
        ‘Once more I congratulate milord. He is the only Englishman I have ever met who is capable of appreciating our beautiful language. I will pay great attention in future to the article in question.’
        With an awful look, the Dowager Duchess of Medway advanced upon Lord Peter.
        ‘Peter,’ she said, ‘do you mean to say you knew about this, and that for the last three weeks you have allowed me to be dressed and undressed and put to bed by a young man ?’
        His lordship had the grace to blush.
        ‘Duchess,’ he said humbly, ‘on my honour I didn’t know absolutely for certain till this morning. And the police were so anxious to have these people caught red-handed. What can I do to show my penitence? Shall I cut the privileged beast to pieces?’
        The grim old mouth relaxed a little.
        ‘After all,’ said the dowager duchess, with the delightful consciousness that she was going to shock her daughter-in-law, ‘there are very few women of my age who could make the same boast. It seems that we die as we have lived, my dear.’
        For indeed the Dowager Duches of Medway had been notable in her day.

THE FASCINATING PROBLEM OF UNCLE MELAGER'S WILL
    ‘You look a little