Académique Documents
Professionnel Documents
Culture Documents
and the
COURTESAN
pamela christie
Chapter 1
ON THE COMPARATIVE MERITS OF BUILDING MATERIALS
In which Constables Hacker and Dysart have their work cut out for them.
ecent people whats only tryin to make a honest livin oughtnt to have to put up wi this sort a thing. Ive ast er nicely, Ive ast er firmly, an Ive threatened er wi the law, but the hussy looks right through me as if I was made of glass! Though the heavily built landlady appeared to have been formed of some type of construction material, it definitely wasnt glass, and the two Bow Street Runners who followed in her wake exchanged smirks as she led them up the dark staircase. Visibility was poor in here, and the steps were strewn with objects both lumpish and sinister, but neither constable was inclined to grasp that handrail a second time. Oh, she was nice enough . . . to begin with, first tellin me Id be paid in full . . . by the end o the week, then in a fortnight . . . then by the end of the month . . . Said she ad expectations from somewhere . . . but either she never got the . . . money, or she spent it all . . . soon as it come in. The landlady paused on the landing to catch her breath. Have you got the key with you, Mrs. Ealing? asked one of the constables. Yes, lor bless you, sir! I remembered it this time! She
Pamela Christie
produced a key from her pocket, and the three of them trudged down a narrow passage that reeked of cat. Ere we are: number five. She pounded on the door. Open up! shouted Mrs. Ealing. Ive got the law with me, you baggage! Theyve come to throw you out on the street! Do you hear me? She rattled the knob, but there was no sound from within. I know shes in there. Probly dead drunk. Its a disgrace, is what it is! Mrs. Ealing unlocked the door, which swung open before her into the room. But she remained standing where she was, like a wall in her own right, blocking the entrance with her bulk, and the officers had to push past her in their haste to reach the ghastly thing that lay upon the bed. Walls are typically made of stone, or brick, or wattle and daub. The good ones can be counted on to maintain perpendicularity for years. But the landlady swayed and toppled after only a few moments. Not a bit like glass. Nor stone, for the matter of that. Mrs. Ealing, at this moment, resembled nothing so much as a pile of wet cement.