said: ‘Go to Farewell, in California, in the States, and there you will see Theodore Kavalov die.’ I thought that a capital idea. I thanked the voice, told Marcus to pack, and came here. As soon as I arrived I told Kavalov about it, thinking perhaps he would die then and I wouldn’t be hung up here waiting. He didn’t, though, and too late I regretted not having asked the voice for a definite date. I should hate having to waste months here.”
“That’s why you’ve been trying to hurry it up?” I asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“ Schrecklichkeit ,” I said, “rocky skulls, dog barbecues, vanishing corpses.”
“I’ve been fifteen years in Africa,” he said. “I’ve too much faith in voices that come from orange trees where no one is to try to give them a hand. You needn’t fancy I’ve had anything to do with whatever has happened.”
“Marcus?”
Sherry stroked his freshly shaven cheeks and replied:
“That’s possible. He has an incorrigible bent for the ruder sort of African horseplay. I’ll gladly cane him for any misbehavior of which you’ve reasonably definite proof.”
“Let me catch him at it,” I said, “and I’ll do my own caning.”
Sherry leaned forward and spoke in a cautious undertone:
“Be sure he suspects nothing till you’ve a firm grip on him. He’s remarkably effective with either of his knives.”
“I’ll try to remember that. The voice didn’t say anything about Ringgo?”
“There was no need. When the body dies, the hand is dead.”