The Casebook of Newbury & Hobbes by George Mann Read Free Book Online Page B

furnished with oak panelling and an ostentatious four-poster bed, but with a wonderful view of the grounds. I unpacked my case and took a while to refresh myself, before heading down to the dining room to meet the others for dinner.
    “No sooner had I approached the door to the dining hall, however, than I became aware of a heated debate being played out on the other side. Unsure what else I could do, I hesitated on the threshold, awaiting an opportunity to politely make an entrance.
    “It seemed that Crawford had finally informed Hambleton about his invitation and my subsequent arrival at the house, and the news had not been received well. I heard Hambleton cursing the doctor. ‘She’s left me, Crawford, can’t you see that? I need to be left alone to my misery.’ Crawford then uttered some sort of bumbling reply, and I decided that was the point at which to make my entrance. I strolled through the door as if oblivious to the tension between the two men, and made a point of greeting Hambleton like an old school friend would.”
    “Did he alter his temperament upon seeing you?”
    “Not at all. He greeted me gruffly and without emotion. He refused to look me in the eye, and showed no real sign that he recognised me from our time at Oxford together. It was as if he saw me as an interloper, come to interfere and ogle at him as he wallowed in his misery. He hardly spoke a word throughout dinner, and then made his excuses and repaired to his room, claiming he needed an early night to be fresh for the morning.” Newbury shrugged, pausing to gather his thoughts. “Crawford had certainly been right about one thing. Hambleton was indeed in a funk, and a dire one at that. The man looked as if he hadn’t slept for a week. His hair was in disarray, he had neglected to shave, his shirtsleeves were filthy and he bore the haunted look of a man who was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was clear that he truly cared for this girl, and that he blamed himself for whatever had become of her, to the exclusion of all else.”
    “So how did you handle the man? It can’t have been easy trying to help someone in that state of mind, no matter how understandable their disposition.”
    “I decided to carry on regardless. At that point in proceedings I was still unsure whether I’d actually be able to shed any light on the case, but with no other means to help the poor fellow I decided to follow Crawford’s example, and together we retreated to the drawing room to plot our next move. Over a brandy we discussed how we could get to the bottom of the situation. We both felt that our influence on Hambleton could only prove beneficial, and that, whatever had happened to his wife, it was clear he was in need of answers. If we were able to shed even the tiniest sliver of light on the subject, we should do our damnedest to try. I reiterated my intention to search the lady’s room at first light. Then, downing the rest of my brandy and offering Crawford all the reassurance I could muster, I retreated to my bed to take some rest.
    “It was at this point, however, that things began to take a turn in an entirely different direction.”
    Newbury stared at the flickering gas lamp on the wall, lost momentarily in his reminiscences. Bainbridge edged forward in his seat. He was caught up in Newbury’s story now, anxious to know what happened next.
    “How so?”
    Newbury smiled. He ran a hand over his face before continuing. “Wearily I made my way to my room, tired from my long journey and more than a little distracted by the shocking appearance of my old school friend. I spent my usual hour reading before settling in for the night—a rather lurid novel entitled The Beetle —and a short while later fell into a light doze. Sometime after that I found myself rudely awakened by a terrible banging sound from elsewhere in the house. I sat bolt upright in bed, unsure what to make of the despicable racket. It was as if someone was