The Stone That Never Came Down by John Brunner Read Free Book Online

a chorus of jeers from the children, a white car with a flashing blue light on top rounded the corner. “Excuse me, sir. Here comes CID now.”

    Having performed his rôle as corpse-identifier and relinquished the rest of the grisly task to the experts, Hector stood by feeling numb cold spread up from his soles to match the frozen sensation in his mind. He barely heard what was being said, the consensus that Maurice had been hit very hard with something blunt, that he had probably been killed elsewhere and his body dumped, very likely last night, that it was no use photographing footprints round it because the kids had trampled the snow … Yet somehow he could not summon the energy to get back in his car and go home.
    And then, unexpectedly, another car roared to a halt and two men emerged, one in his fifties with a grizzled beard, the other plumper and somewhat younger. With a shock, Hector recognised a face he had often seen in scientific magazines Maurice had lent him.
    “Professor Kneller!” he shouted.
    The bearded man checked. “Who the …?”
    “I’m Hector Campbell! Maurice’s doctor!” Hurrying over to him.
    “Good lord. We spoke on the phone this morning. Well, this is my colleague Arthur Randolph, and … You mean it is Maurice that they’ve found?”
    “I’m afraid so.”
    “Oh, my God.” Kneller let his shoulders slump. “Did they find anything on his body?”
    “What sort of–?” Hector began, but he was interrupted as the senior police officer at the scene strode to meet them.
    “Professor Kneller? I’m Chief Inspector Sawyer. We’ve had a positive identification from Dr Campbell here, so–”
    “Did you find anything on his body?” Kneller snapped.
    Sawyer, startled, blinked rapidly several times. “Well, a few odds and ends. My sergeant’s made up a list. Sergeant Epton!” Turning.
    And the sergeant brought them a printed form with half a dozen lines of neat writing on it, which Kneller scanned hastily. Passing it to Randolph, he shook his head.
    “Have you looked in his wallet? It could have been in there,” Randolph said.
    “There’s no mention of a wallet,” Kneller grunted.
    “That’s not surprising, sir,” Sawyer put in. “Either this was, as they say, murder in pursuit of theft, or else someone threw his wallet away to make us think it was.”
    “It is murder? You’re sure of that?”
    “There’s a vanishingly small chance it might have been an accident. I wouldn’t bet money on it, though.” Sawyer, sharp-featured and lean, looked grim.
    “Then I’m afraid you’ll have to search this whole area,” Kneller said. “Very thoroughly indeed!”
    “Looking for what, sir?”
    “Probably a container of capsules, little yellow ones the size of a rice-grain.”
    Hector took a pace forward. “But that sounds like Inspirogene. I prescribed it for Maurice myself. What makes it so special?”
    Sawyer glanced at him. “A drug, Doctor?”
    “Not the kind you mean,” Hector said. “It’s for asthma and other allergic complaints. Professor, why in the–?”
    Randolph cut him short. “Wilfred, we must search his home. He may have left a note or something.”
    “Yes, of course. Inspector, we’ll have to go there right away. I see his keys were found on him. Bring them along.”
    Sawyer, clearly disconcerted, answered, “I’m afraid everything from the body will have to go to the forensic people, sir.”
    “Damn!” Kneller stamped his foot. “Well, if you come to his home with us, can we legally break in?”
    “There’d be no need for that,” Hector interposed. “His landlady lives downstairs. I’m sure she’ll have a key. And she’s elderly and almost never goes out.”
    “Fine! Come along, Inspector–but order a search of this site first.”
    Obstinately Sawyer said, “You’ll have to give me a reason!”
    “I can’t! Not without wasting time! Simply take my word that … Well, for one thing, if these kids got hold of what I’m talking about,