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Back The Black Abbot Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Cover
  2. Copyright & Information
  3. About the Author
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. Series Information

“One day the superintendent said to this man, whose name was Carter, ‘Carter,’ he said, ‘I can’t understand–’”

Crack!

A bullet snicked past the detective’s face, struck the bole of the tree and sent the bark splintering. From a clump of rhododendron bushes two hundred yards away floated a pale blue cloud.

“Down on your face!” said Dick hoarsely, and dragged the girl to the ground, only just in time.

Crack!

The second bullet struck a little lower. A splinter of bark hummed past the girl’s ear.

“There’s someone in those bushes who doesn’t like me,” said Mr Puttler.

Pulling a long-barrelled Browning from his pocket, and bending low, he sprinted towards the bushes, zigzagging as he ran.

A third shot rang out and the running man pitched forward on his face and lay still.

26

Dick flew forward to the prostrate figure, and, kneeling by his side, turned him on his back. His eyelids were working spasmodically, but there was no sign of injury, except a bruise on the side of his face which had been caused by his coming violently into contact with the ground. And then Dick saw the man’s right boot. The sole had been ripped off and there was a patch of blood showing on the toe of the sock. At the sound of a rustling skirt Dick turned his head. The girl was coming towards them.

“Go back behind that tree and don’t move,” he shouted authoritatively, but for once she did not obey him.

She was rather pale, but there was no other evidence of fear as she knelt by his side and began to unfasten the collar of the stricken man.

“He’s stunned. I don’t think it’s anything worse than that,” said Dick. “I thought at first he was finished – look at his boot!”

He was pulling it off gingerly, and the operation must have hurt a little, because the detective winced and opened his eyes.

“Hullo! What has happened?” he asked, looking round. “Did that bird shoot me?”

“I don’t think he’s hurt you very much.” Dick was looking at the foot. The bullet had ricocheted, cutting a shallow gash on the man’s instep, but there was no other injury.

“Do you feel fit enough to look after Miss Gine?” said Dick.

The detective reached round for the gun he had dropped and humped himself to his feet. Without another word, Dick raced across the grassland to the bushes, and the girl watched him in terror, expecting every second to hear the fourth and the fatal shot.

After five minutes he emerged from the bushes, holding something in his hand which he was examining curiously as he walked towards them.

“A Lee-Enfield rifle, Army pattern,” he said. “I found these cases.”

He put them into the detective’s hand. Puttler examined the exploded cartridges carefully.

“You didn’t see him, of course?” he said.