Teacups & Tentacles | ONC 2022

21. The Name Rings A Bell

Stephen Clanker, assisted by Bobby, busily dug through piles of the back numbers of the newspapers the Mastermind Society provided for its members,

The house managers who kept things tidy at the Society often had a peculiar sense of order. Some of them even a pathological sense of order that led them to habitually sort packing string by colour and arrange the books in the library by height, not by subject or author, as one might reasonably assume.

These sometimes quite exotic and personal arrangements had on occasion led to fits of rage from those who, after searching for twenty minutes still could not locate so much as a penny stamp, and some noses had, unfortunately, been bloodied as a result.

This did not apply to the newspapers, apparently, as they were very logically arranged from oldest to newest and stacked in wooden bins in a storage room near the kitchens for later use in lighting hearths and ovens.

Stephen and Bobby breathed a communal sigh of relief when they found what they were looking for within minutes and returned to the front salon where a loud debate was in progress.

"Tell me again," roared Roddy McCringle at Godwin, "why you suspected the owner if you thought the thing was real?"

"Godwin had a...an inspiration," said Amelia quickly. She stood in front of the main fireplace, her portrait on the mantle behind her, directing the meeting.

Godwin leaned against the wall with his arms crossed petulantly over his chest. He'd already been harangued by several Society members about the validity of his conclusions. Although, unsurprisingly, no one expressed ethical reservations about hypnotising an unsuspecting and highly unwilling individual with the objective of applying their knowledge for one's own benefit. 

Any of them would have done the same.

"Inspiration? What kind of inspiration," asked Millie Goldwalken. "Did he have a vision when he was down in the cellar with it?"

"Something like that, yes."

"And you're sure he was fully under?" shouted Roddy, again. "He could have been having a go. Deliberately spouting nonsense to throw you off if he knew who you are."

"Contrary to what some in this room might think," Godwin said, enunciating every syllable and staring daggers at Roddy. "I am not entirely a charlatan. Yes, I had a vision, Millie, but I couldn't attach it to anything at the time and yes, the man was fully under, thank you very much. I am not so very untalented that I wouldn't be able to tell a faker when one was sat before me, do me the favour."

"Then why didn't you investigate the owner sooner?" asked Reginald Thwackshift from one of the armchairs. "Would have saved time and got you the drop on the rest of the competition."

"Not all of us have your journalistic experience, Reg," tisked Millie. "Probably didn't occur, did it, Godwin? Wouldn't have me and I get visions all the time. Normally only about what the neighbours are having for tea, but still. Don't mean I go across the hall and bang on their door and say, here, is it cabbage and mash again tonight? I just had a feeling."

"Very right," said Amelia. "And it was reported in the Cipher & Gasket that the owner had disappeared, so it would not have done much good to look him up in the end. Stephen, have you found it?"

Stephen waved around the tattered newspaper for everyone to see before reading the final bit of the article Amelia had seen when she had delivered her secret to the house of the parrot finder. 

"Says here that the owner, one Hercules Finch, thirty-seven, of Whitstable, could not be reached for comment in his rooms at Hollickpepper's Guesthouse."