AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I know it well, Bill, thank you, and my best to what remains of Mrs Roberts."
They swept on through into First Court, or at least Dirk swept, and Richard walked in his normal heron-like gait, wrinkling up his face against the measly drizzle.
Dirk had obviously mistaken himself for a tour guide.
"St Cedd's," he pronounced, "the college of Coleridge, and the college of Sir Isaac Newton, renowned inventor of the milled-edge coin and the catflap!"
"The what?" said Richard.
"The catflap! A device of the utmost cunning, perspicuity and invention. It is a door within a door, you see, a..."
"Yes," said Richard, "there was also the small matter of gravity."
"Gravity," said Dirk with a slightly dismissive shrug, "yes, there was that as well, I suppose. Though that, of course, was merely a discovery. It was there to be discovered."
He took a penny out of his pocket and tossed it casually on to the pebbles that ran alongside the paved pathway.
"You see?" he said, "They even keep it on at weekends. Someone was bound to notice sooner or later. But the catflap... ah, there is a very different matter. Invention, pure creative invention."
"I would have thought it was quite obvious. Anyone could have thought of it."
"Ah," said Dirk, "it is a rare mind indeed that can render the hitherto non-existent blindingly obvious. The cry "I could have thought of that" is a very popular and misleading one, for the fact is that they didn't, and a very significant and revealing fact it is too. This if I am not mistaken is the staircase we seek. Shall we ascend?"
Without waiting for an answer he plunged on up the stairs. Richard, following uncertainly, found him already knocking on the inner door. The outer one stood open.
"Come in!" called a voice from within. Dirk pushed the door open, and they were just in time to see the back of Reg's white head as he disappeared into the kitchen.
"Just making some tea," he called out. "Like some? Sit down, sit down, whoever you are."
"That would be most kind," returned Dirk. "We are two." Dirk sat, and Richard followed his lead.
"Indian or China?" called Reg.
"Indian, please."
There was a rattle of cups and saucers.
Richard looked around the room. It seemed suddenly humdrum. The fire was burning quietly away to itself, but the light was that of the grey afternoon. Though everything about it was the same, the old sofa, the table burdened with books, there seemed nothing to connect it with the hectic strangeness of the previous night. The room seemed to sit there with raised eyebrows, innocently saying "Yes?"
"Milk?" called out Reg from the kitchen.
"Please," replied Dirk. He gave Richard a smile which seemed to him to be half-mad with suppressed excitement.
"One lump or two?" called Reg again.
"One, please," said Dirk, "and two spoons of sugar if you would."
There was a suspension of activity in the kitchen. A moment or two passed and Reg stuck his head round the door.
"Svlad Cjelli!" he exclaimed. "Good heavens! Well, that was quick work, young MacDuff, well done. My dear fellow, how very excellent to see you, how good of you to come."
He wiped his hands on a tea towel he was carrying and hurried over to shake hands.
"My dear Svlad."
"Dirk, please, if you would," said Dirk, grasping his hand warmly, "I prefer it. It has more of a sort of Scottish dagger feel to it, I think. Dirk Gently is the name under which I now trade. There are certain events in the past, I'm afraid, from which I would wish to disassociate myself."
"Absolutely, I know how you feel. Most of the fourteenth century, for instance, was pretty grim," agreed Reg earnestly.
Dirk was about to correct the misapprehension, but thought that it might be somewhat of a long trek and left it.
"So how have you been, then, my dear Professor?" he said instead, decorously placing his hat and scarf upon the arm of the sofa.
"Well," said Reg, "it's been an interesting time recently, or rather, a dull time. But dull for interesting reasons. Now, sit down again, warm yourselves by the fire, and I will get the tea and endeavour to explain." He bustled out again, humming busily, and left them to settle themselves in front of the fire.
Richard leant over to Dirk. "I had no idea you knew him so well," he said with a nod in the direction of the kitchen.
"I don't," said Dirk instantly. "We met once by chance at some dinner, but there was an immediate sympathy and rapport."
"So how come you never met again?"
"He studiously avoided me, of course. Close rapports with people are dangerous if you have a secret to hide. And as secrets go, I fancy that this is somewhat of a biggie. If there is a bigger secret anywhere in the world I would very much care," he said quietly, "to know what it is."
He gave Richard a significant look and held his hands out to the fire. Since Richard had tried before without success to draw him out on exactly what the secret was, he refused to rise to the bait on this occasion, but sat back in his armchair and looked about him.
"Did I ask you," said Reg, returning at that moment, "if you wanted any tea?"
"Er, yes," said Richard, "we spoke about it at length. I think we agreed in the end that we would, didn't we?"
"Good," said Reg, vaguely, "by a happy chance there seems to be some ready in the kitchen. You'll have to forgive me. I have a memory like a... like a... what are those things you drain rice in? What am I talking about?"
With a puzzled look he turned smartly round and disappeared once more into the kitchen.
"Very interesting," said Dirk quietly, "I wondered if his memory might be poor."
He stood, suddenly, and prowled around the room. His eyes fell on the abacus which stood on the only clear space on the large mahogany table.
"Is this the table," he asked Richard in a low voice, "where you found the note about the salt cellar?"
"Yes," said Richard, standing, and coming over, "tucked into this book." He picked up the guide to the Greek islands and flipped through it.
"Yes, yes, of course," said Dirk, impatiently. "We know about all that. I'm just interested that this was the table." He ran his fingers along its edge, curiously.
"If you think it was some sort of prior collaboration between Reg and the girl," Richard said, "then I must say that I don't think it possibly can have been."
"Of course it wasn't," said Dirk testily, "I would have thought that was perfectly clear."
Richard shrugged in an effort not to get angry and put the book back down again.
"Well, it's an odd coincidence that the book should have been..."
"Odd coincidence!" snorted Dirk. "Ha! We shall see how much of a coincidence. We shall see exactly how odd it was. I would like you, Richard, to ask our friend how he performed the trick."
"I thought you said you knew already."
"I do," said Dirk airily. "I would like to hear it confirmed."
"Oh, I see," said Richard, "yes, that's rather easy, isn't it? Get him to explain it, and then say, "Yes, that's exactly what I thought it was!" Very good, Dirk. Have we come all the way up here in order to have him explain how he did a conjuring trick? I think I must be mad."
Dirk bridled at this.
"Please do as I ask," he snapped angrily. "You saw him do the trick, you must ask how he did it. Believe me, there is an astounding secret hidden within it. I know it, but I want you to hear it from him."
He spun round as Reg re-entered, bearing a tray, which he carried round the sofa and put on to the low coffee table that sat in front of the fire.
"Professor Chronotis..." said Dirk.
"Reg," said Reg, "please."
"Very, well," said Dirk, "Reg..."
"Sieve!" exclaimed Reg.
"What?"
"Thing you drain rice in. A sieve. I was trying to remember the word, though I forget now the reason why. No matter. Dirk, dear fellow, you look as if you are about to explode about something. Wh
y don't you sit down and make yourself comfortable?"
"Thank you, no, I would rather feel free to pace up and down fretfully if I may. Reg..."
He turned to face him square on, and raised a single finger.
