The Curious Case of the Copper Corpse (4 page)

“They'd never have believed me!” Plaxton blurted. “But how did you know?”

“By your irritated eyes,” I answered, “to begin with, and the hoarseness of your voice when you opened the door. Exposure to the steamy fumes of copper sulfate. You were there
before
the bathwater cooled.”

I didn't feel any need to tell Plaxton about the theatrical greasepaint which Mr. Denning had been using for years to cover up his awful scales and lesions. In death, the poor man surely deserved at least a pinch of privacy.

“The police will soon be here,” I said. “I advise you to be straight with them. You needn't mention my name.”

“Big help you've been,” Plaxton said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

“Thank you,” I replied, pretending not to notice. “As you requested, I've at least given you and your playmates excuses why you shouldn't be charged with murder. You might be asked some awkward questions about interfering with a dead body, but that's your problem—not mine.”

“No—look,” Plaxton said, coming to his senses. “Here, take this.”

And he pressed a five-pound note into my hand. I let it flutter to the ground, but he scooped it up and shoved it into my pocket.

It simply boggles the mind the way in which some people can turn on a sixpence. Or perhaps it was that I had misjudged Plaxton from the beginning. Pity is not always the best basis for trust.

As I got to my feet and began walking away across the grass, toward the old stone of Anson House, the new banknote crackled crisply in my pocket. It was, I realized with a secret thrill, the first pay I had ever received for professional consultation.

Gladys would be happy to see me. We would stop at Bert Archer's garage on the way home and buy a fresh tin of bicycle oil.

It would be my treat.

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag

A Red Herring Without Mustard

I Am Half-Sick of Shadows

Speaking from Among the Bones

The Dead in Their Vaulted Arches

As Chimney Sweepers Come to Dust

The Curious Case of the Copper Corpse

PHOTO: © JEFF BASSETT

A
LAN
B
RADLEY
is the internatio
nally bestselling author of many short stories, children's stories, newspaper columns, and the memoir
The Shoebox Bible
. His first Flavia de Luce novel,
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie,
received the Crime Writers' Association Debut Dagger Award, the Dilys Award, the Arthur Ellis Award, the Agatha Award, the Macavity Award, and the Barry Award, and was nominated for the Anthony Award. His other Flavia de Luce novels are
The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag, A Red Herring Without Mustard
,
I Am Half-Sick of Shadows
,
Speaking from Among the Bones, The Dead in Their Vaulted Arches,
and
As Chimney Sweepers Come to Dust
.

www.flavia
deluce.com

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