Ron Goulart - The Curse of the Obelisk

THE CURSE OF THE OBELISK 39
muck while sightseeing in Montmartre last evening, you know. Thought I'd succeeded in scraping
it all off. Sorry."
"How'd you know my father'd be cabling me?" After elbowing the door shut, he tore the
envelope open.
"Well, old man, I rather hoped he would. Since we exchanged wires yesterday. Soon as I heard
of poor Emil's fate." The message from Harry's father said:
Dear Son: A brainless ninny named Bertie Pennoyer wants a bodyguard to see him safely to
Urbania. Loaded with dough. Bundle him up on that special train you told me about. Your
loving father, the Challenge International Detective Agency.
Refolding the message, Harry tossed it on his rumpled bed. "What happened to Dr.
Koontzman?"
"According to preliminary reports, the poor blighter was attacked by vampire bats while
mountaineering," answered the nervous young man. "Odd place for such creatures, one would
think. Much too cold."
"How did you find out about the train?"
Pennoyer let his monocle pop free and caught it in his palm. "Simple, old thing. Visited
Maurice Allegre yesterday and he—"
"That nitwit wasn't supposed to tell anyone about—"
"But, I say, Challenge. I am not just anyone, eh?" He began polishing the lens on his silk pocket
handkerchief. "I mean to say, I'm a highly esteemed amateur archaeologist. I did, afterall, finance
the whole bloody, you'll forgive my coarse lingo, expedition to the Valley of Jackals. Continually
doing that sort of thing, don't you know. Entire Pennoyer clan filthy rich. Great grandfather made a
pile out in India. By exploiting the wogs and the fuzzy-wuzzies, so family tradition has it."
"Has there been an attempt on your life?"
"Not that one is aware of, no. Haven't noticed huge vampire bats flapping about one's digs and
all that."
Setting his gun back on the table, Harry started getting dressed. "As of now there's only you
and—"
"I say, shall I turn my back, old chap? Some blokes crave a bit of privacy while—"
"Up to you." Harry tugged his trousers on. "Only you and Lady Jane Bedlumm are still alive, of
the five who headed up the expedition."
Pennoyer shuddered. "All this beastly talk of death makes one deuced aware of one's mortality,
don't you know," he said. "Lady Jane's a formidable old girl. In Tibet somewhere at last report.
Seeking spiritual enlightment from some silly sounding bloke called the Ringding Gelong Lama.
Doubt the rascals'll find the old girl there."
"Any notion who wants you dead?"