Mr. Ferdinand's Fate

Chapter 7: More About That Poem

 

Lady Dumphries said, "You figured it out? How?"

Emerson said, "Neil's my cousin. He wired me his confession."

"So that's the end of it?"

"Why are you upset? It's solved."

"Aren't you going to pace the room?"

"No."

"Aren't you going to discover other secrets?"

"No. Why are you upset?"

"Why aren't you acting like Columbo?"

Lord Dumphries cried, "Who?"

Lady Dumpries stopped abrupted. "I don't know."

Emerson paced the room to discover other secrets. "I am a parapsychological detective, you know. And I'm having certain suspicions confirmed, or at least attenuated. What word am I after? Oh, no matter. I have a feeling you're all possessed by something-or-other. Where are there more clues? An, yes! The poem. Bring me the poem."

Lady Margaret looked around. "Someone remind me: Why are we in this shed?"

"Change of scenery, that's all. Come: let us go back to the library. Why not?"

So they all trooped back to the library in single file: Emerson, Lord Dumphries, Lady Dumphries, Lady Helen, Lady Margaret, and Constable Eddings.

Once safely inside, Emerson said, "There are eleven dimensions. Are we all aware of that?"

No-one responded.

Emerson continued, "Well, be that as it may, the result is that we are only aware of a little over a third of them. That's all. It is rather economical. The other dimensions, however, are my bread-and-butter. Please, let me see the poem."

"I believe the authoress has it."

Lady Margaret produced the poem and Emerson read it quickly. "This is a very nice poem. Old-style, of course. Yes, I see the acrostic."

Lord Humphries said, "The problem is we can't figure out who this T.F. fellow is."

Emerson smiled for a very long time. "I suppose not. I believe it's time for me to set things right. No more of these, ah, possessions for your family, I say. However, I need to be left alone. So shoo the lot of you."

Constable Eddings said, "Me too?"

"Yes. Shoo. Scat. Away."

The Humphries family and Constable Eddings left the room to Emerson.

Emerson sat down on the floor, legs crossed Indian-style. He pinched his thumbs against his middle fingers in a knot resembling the symbol of infinity and closed his eyes. He intoned, "Om mane padme Hum," several times. An observer at that point would say he fell asleep. He invisibly opened his eyes and noticed....