The Luck Runs Out by Charlotte MacLeod Read Free Book Online Page B

Miss Flackley. Happening to fall into conversation with her and finding her an interesting person, she issued a spur-of-the-moment invitation to dinner.
    As I understand, Professor Stott was there, so she asked him, too. Wasn’t that the way of it, Stott?”
    “It was. Miss Flackley seemed surprised, though pleased, by the invitation. I myself was of a similar sentiment Mrs. Shandy is a lady of excellent heart and great skill in the culinary art. She spoke of noodle pudding. I accepted with alacrity.”
    “No doubt,” said the state policeman doggedly, “but what were you and Miss Flackley doing together at the time?”
    “Miss Flackley was trimming the off hind hoof of Odin, one of our college horses. I was making my way toward the pigpens to visit Belinda, about whom I had been experiencing a slight anxiety. Having respect for Miss Flackley’s acumen in such matters, I paused to ask her to accompany me. Miss Flackley subsequently diagnosed Belinda’s ailment as nothing more than a touch of colic and prescribed a slight modification in diet Belinda has a sensitive stomach.”
    A spasm that was more than colic passed over Stott’s nobly porcine countenance. “And while we stand here bandying trivialities, God knows what may be happening to her.”
    “You call murder a triviality, Professor?”
    “No,” replied Stott, “I call it infamous! And I call it equally infamous to be kept here answering irrelevant questions when I ought to be out hunting for my sow. Sir, I can no longer submit to this interrogation. I, too, have my duty.”
    The police lieutenant shrugged. “Okay, go ahead and search. Officer Partinger here will go with you. Don’t try to lose him.”
    “Why would I do that?” asked Stott in all innocence. “We need every searcher we can muster. Shandy, are you coming? President?”
    “Shandy can’t come,” said Svenson. “I’ll be along later. Right now I’m going to call a general assembly and put the fear of God and of Me into every student on this campus. You want action, Stott. You’ll get it.”

Chapter 5
    T HERE WASN’T AN EMPTY seat in the bleachers. All the students were decently covered, since Sieglinde Svenson was not one to stand for any nonsense about freedom of expression, but the coverings ranged anywhere from a bathrobe to a bedspread. A general assembly sprung on them at a quarter to six on a Saturday morning had left no time for titivation.
    Down in front of the stands stood Thorkjeld Svenson. They’d had no time to rig a microphone, but he didn’t need one. Even in the farthest reaches of the topmost seats, nobody was missing a word.
    “I’m holding each and every one of you personally responsible for finding Miss Flackley’s murderer and bringing back Belinda of Balaclava safe and sound,” he roared. “I’m not accusing you. I can’t imagine any member of this college pulling such a damn-fool stunt, but if you know anything about who did, if you saw or smelled or even thought about anything fishy going on around the pigpens last night you’d better spill it fast. This is no time for false loyalties. You know where your duty lies, and by yiminy, you’re going to do it!”
    He reached over and grabbed the state police lieutenant, who, although a big man, looked puny beside him. “If you have anything to say, stop on your way out and say it to Lieutenant Corbin here. If you find out anything later, come and tell me, or Professor Shandy, who’s going to be acting as liaison with the police.”
    That was news to Shandy, but he knew better than to argue.
    “Now,” Svenson went on, “I’m declaring all classes and extracurricular activities suspended until we get some results. Every one of you, get back to your dorms and put on your working clothes. Get down to the cafeteria and eat your breakfasts, then form parties and start searching. You all know Flackley the Farrier’s van, and you ought to know what a pig looks like. And you’ve all got heads, or