The Empty Coffins Read Free Page A

mind.”
    â€œOkay—providing you don’t object to a little detour. You live just beyond the village on the other side: I’m calling at the Christmas fun fair on the way.”
    Peter began driving forward again and Meadows shook his head irritably as rain trickled from his hat into his lap.
    â€œThe fun fair?” he repeated. “What on earth for?”
    â€œI’ve a man to see. He’s been scaring Elsie to death.”
    â€œOh? Will the fair be open on a night like this?”
    â€œShould be. Most of it’s under canvas.”
    Meadows took off his hat and examined it in the dashboard light.
    â€œHow do you mean, frightening Elsie? Assault or something? There’s the law you can—”
    â€˜The law can’t touch this, Doc. He’s a mystic, or some such humbug. Rawnee Singh, by name. He told Elsie that she cannot live any longer than eight months from now—and she, poor kid, believed the swine! That was why she was so insistent tonight that we be married before a year is up. She’s got some crazy idea of snatching at happiness before she dies. I never heard such damned, nonsensical piffle!”
    Meadows sat back in the bucket seat and returned his hat to his head. He was silent, gazing through the raindrops at the headlamps’ glare on the lane. Presently Peter gave him a glance.
    â€œYou think it’s crazy, Doc, don’t you?” he asked, in some surprise.
    â€œI suppose it is,” Meadows admitted, shrugg­ing. “You can’t trust these sideshow mystics.”
    â€œYou don’t sound unduly angry. Suppose Elsie were your daughter? Wouldn’t you want to set about this lunatic and maybe rub his face in the mud?”
    â€œIt would be easier if I didn’t know Singh’s reputation,” Meadows replied, frowning. “Rawnee Singh isn’t just a sideshow charlatan, Peter: he’s been giving psychic demonstrations to society for many years. I’ve seen accounts of his activities. As for him being at this local fair, it’s because his name is the main attraction.... Quite an extra­ordinary seer, from what I can gather.”
    Peter drove through the village with its lighted windows and rain-lashed streets before he spoke again.
    â€œBut, Doc, in regard to Elsie, you surely don’t think—”
    â€œGood Lord, no! It’s fantastic.... There’s the fair ahead of us, all lit up. Business as usual despite the rain, I gather. Want me to come with you?”
    â€œWhy not? As an older man, I’d value your opinion on this character.”
    Meadows nodded and climbed out of the car, leav­ing it behind on the big cindery enclosure that was doing temporary duty as a car park.
    Then, driven along stumblingly by the wind, turning their faces from the blinding rain, they hurried towards the huge mass of gleaming canvas ahead of them. It was lighted by clusters of electric globes, their naked glare reflecting from wet surfaces.
    Beyond the outer flap of the gigantic marquee they found relief from the wind and rain. It was warm and bright and smelled of sawdust and people. All the men and women of the village seemed to be present, walking up and down the narrow aisles between the sideshows. The din was overwhelming, the basic noise coming from amplified music conn­ected with a roundabout.
    â€œOver there,” Meadows said, nodding. “There’s his sign.”
    Peter studied a garish board saying RAWNEE SINGH KNOWETH PAST AND FUTURE; then he followed Dr. Mead­ows as he pushed his way through the crowd.
    Gaining audience with the mystic was by no means an easy job. Business seemed to be brisk for him. It meant waiting with several other people in an outer tent, whilst an attendant with nut-juice on his face and hands and wearing Oriental costume kept coming in and out of a second tent and giving a deep obeisance.
    Finally, however, Peter and Meadows found themselves in the