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- Herausgeber: Wildside Press
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
The Case of the Mesozoic Monsters
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Seitenzahl: 49
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Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
THE CASE OF THE MESOZOIC MONSTERS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 1942 by John Russell Fearn.
First published Amazing Stories, May 1942.
Published by Wildside Press LLC under authorizationfrom the Estate of John Russell Fearn.
wildsidepress.com | bcmystery.com
THE CASE OF THE MESOZOIC MONSTERS
by John Russell Fearn
Published under the pseudonym “Thornton Ayre.”
CHAPTER 1
Brutus Lloyd Arrives
“Lloyd! Damned glad you could make it!”
Inspector Branson caught Brutus Lloyd by the arm as he stepped from the 3:10 and led him into the waiting room. The little scientific detective took off his Derby and held it to the fire.
“Either give a good reason for this rush-trip or write yourself off the New York police force,” he growled in his bass voice. “Just what in hell did you mean over the phone by—monsters?”
“What I said! Monsters! Prehistoric things. . . . They belong definitely to science so I sent for you.”
Lloyd’s keen little eyes sharpened. “You don’t mean the things mentioned in an obscure corner of this morning’s papers? Creatures from the Mesozoic Era?”
“Just that,” Branson acknowledged bluntly. “The sheriff here is all steamed over the business—right out of his depth. He sent for help from New York. Having nothing particular on hand I came over. Dinosaurs, Lloyd—that’s what!”
Lloyd sighed. “Dammit man, dinosauria died out millions of years ago—and even supposing otherwise they’d sure have more sense than choose a dump like Trenchley to park in! Anyway, let’s have it—and be brief!”
“Better come with me in the car,” Branson said, and led the way outside the station. Then as he drove along the wet roadway through the wildest of drizzling, lonely country to the village of Trenchley itself he spat out laconic statements, mainly embellishing the unimaginative newspaper reports.
“Seems a group of villagers, residents, saw two dinosaurs on the outskirts of the village last evening. I’ve questioned them all, and they all have the same story.”
“Deceptio visus—optical illusion,” Lloyd sneered, too wet and uncomfortable to be interested. “And anyway dinosaurs cover a whole range of animals—but that would be way above your head of course. . . . Village gossip, Branson!”
“I don’t think it is!” the Inspector insisted. “They’re sensible people, all of ’em. A young electrical engineer and his wife; a traveling salesman; a clergyman; one or two members of the local church, and—yes, another guy. A spiritualist.”
“Huh?” Lloyd looked up sharply.
“A Dr. Phalnack—plays around with tambourines in the dark and puts the jitters in village folk o’ nights. You know the type. Odd looking chap. He has an Indian servant I didn’t like the looks of. Sort of dark, anarchistic guy with a towel round his head.”
“Hmm.” Lloyd fingered the J-shaped forelock poking under his uptilted Derby. Then he sneered, “I presume you looked for clues?”
“Sure—and I found ’em. Dinosaur’s footmarks.”
Lloyd rubbed his tiny hands together. “That’s better! This begins to smell more like my meat.”
Branson looked gratified; then he glanced ahead. “We’re coming into the village now. I asked the folks—the principal ones anyway—to gather in the village hall to meet you. They ought to be there by now.”
* * * *
He swung the car off the main road into a gravelway, pulled up before a beetlelike tin-roofed shed. In a moment he and Lloyd were inside the place. Walking in slowly behind the burly Inspector the diminutive investigator glanced over, and appraised, the assembly.
There was a young man with an eager, intelligent face and a dark starry-eyed girl by his side. There was the vicar, calm and pale-faced; the waiting Sheriff, chewing thoughtfully; then a smallish man with immensely thick-lensed glasses, cape, and broad brimmed soft hat. Beside him, arms folded, was a Pathan, smoldering-eyed, high-jowled, turban wound flawlessly round his head. He was short, too—but lithe and muscular as a steel spring.
Branson rattled off the introductions, and the first one to come forward was the man with glasses and broad-brimmed hat.
“I’m so glad to know you, Dr. Lloyd!” His voice was soft, persuasive; and his handgrip crushing. “I’ve heard of you, of course.”
“That’s understandable!” Lloyd regarded him under insolently lowered eyelids. “Am I not the master of scientific mystery?”
“Quite—quite! I am Dr. Phalnack, a spiritualistic medium. Oh, this is my servant and confidant, Ranji. . . .”
The Indian gave a slight inclination of his head, but his eyes still glowered dangerously. Lloyd peered at him archly from under his upthrust hat brim; then he turned aside sharply as the young man and woman came forward. He was lanky, loose-jointed of movement.
“I’m Ted Hutton,” he volunteered. “This is my wife Janice.”
“Uh-huh,” Lloyd acknowledged impatiently. “But suppose we get down to matters? This talk of monsters—”
“It ain’t just talk,” Sheriff Ingle snorted. “I saw the danged things meself. . . . We all did. And plenty more besides.”
“True,” agreed the vicar mildly. “I was calling on Mrs. Westbury concerning the needy children’s charity when I saw two huge monsters against the sunset, just outside the village. They seemed to be coming towards me. I—ahem!—moved precipitately into Mrs. Westbury’s and sought sanctuary—”
“Then?” Lloyd snapped.
“I—er— Well, I guess they’d gone when I came out some thirty minutes later.”
Ted Hutton put in earnestly, “I saw them as I was coming back from an electrical survey just out of the village. I’m with the Government, you see—research engineer. And my wife saw the things too, didn’t you, sweet?”
“Gigantic!” she declared earnestly. “Dinosaurs. . . .!”
The lean-faced man in the dripping mackintosh who called himself Murgatroyd came forward.
“Guess I saw them as I was driving into the village. I’m a salesman, putting up here for a few days.”
* * * *
Lloyd fondled his forelock and glanced at Dr. Phalnack. “And you, doctor?”
“Well, I didn’t actually see them, I’m afraid—but I certainly knew through my psychic experiments that there was a foreign power close to us—something, if you understand me, otherworldly!”
“We don’t!” Branson said, irritated. “Talk plain English!”
