A
Frayed


Knot


ABC





Felix Culp


 


Text copyright 2009 by Felix Culp. All rights reserved.

Wild Knot image on page 29 reproduced by permission from

Rob Scharein.

Based on ‘Murder at The Rue Morgue’ by Edgar Allen Poe.

Published by Incongruous Press. The Incongruous Press logo is a

trademark of Incongruous Press.

No part of this publication may be, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of
the publisher.

For information regarding permission, write to:

IncongruousPress@gmail.com: Attn: Permissions Department

ISBN – 13: 9781448664290

ISBN – 10: 1448664292

Printed in the U.S.A.

First Edition, October 2009

“Diagrams and wire models were shown to the Society to illustrate

knotted or knitted vortex atoms, the endless variety of which is
infinitely more than sufficient to explain the varieties and allotropies
of known simple bodies and their mutual affinities. It is to be
remarked that two ring atoms linked together or one knotted in any
manner with its ends meeting, constitute a system which, however it
may be altered in shape, can never deviate from its own peculiarity of
multiple continuity, it being impossible for the matter in any line of
vortex motion to go through the line of any other matter in such
motion or any other part of its own line. In fact, a closed line of
vortex core is literally indivisible by any action resulting from vortex
motion.” ~On Vortex Atoms. by Lord Kelvin (Sir William Thomson);
Proceedings of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, Vol. VI, 1867, pp. 94-105.
Reprinted in Phil. Mag. Vol. XXXIV, 1867, pp. 15-24.



A FRAYED KNOT

By Felix Culp
and Edgar Allen Poe



 


“What song the Syrens sang, or what name

Achilles assumed when he bid himself among women,
although puzzling questions, are not beyond all
conjecture.” -Sir Thomas Browne

“To me, the simple act of tying a knot is an

adventure in unlimited space. A bit of string affords a
dimensional latitude that is unique among the entities.
For an uncomplicated strand is a palpable object that,
for all practical purposes, possesses one dimension
only. If we move a single strand in a plane,
interlacing it at will, actual objects of beauty and of
utility can result in what is practically two
dimensions; and if we choose to direct our strand out
of this one plane, another dimension is added which
provide opportunity for an excursion that is limited
only by the scope of our own imagery and the length of
the rop emaker’s coil.” -Clifford W. Ashley, The Ashley
Books of Knots

“Everything is made of knots.” -Lord

Kelvin

6

 For J, K and T –

(With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe)

 The Players

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bT
yler Trefoil was a Bowline knot. He was tied in
manila rope on the quarterdeck of the Flemish
schooner Alexander Briggs as it listed through a
minor summer squall off the shoal-lined coast of Nova Scotia. This
was in the bygone days when horse-pulled carriages still lined the
waterfronts as the square-rigged ships came in, and a handy knot was
never long from a bo’suns hands. Even now, in this modern age,
although he was fraying, he remained fast as the day he was tied, and
possibly more so.
Salty-fibered seafaring knots such as Trefoil – as the reader
surely knows - are rarely given to any meaningful degree of
introspection. More often they will simply fray slowly, slowly, until
one day they either come apart at the fibers, or slip, or are at last
undone, having served their purpose unquestioningly. But for a
common sailors’ knot, Trefoil possessed an uncommon disposition. A
disposition which created in him a rare inquisitiveness, an analytical
bent, and a certain contrarian (and often heretical) perspective as he
considered at length the knot condition.



 A
Frayed
Knot


The mental features we call the analytical are in themselves

little susceptible of analysis. We appreciate them only in their effects.
We know of them, among other things, that they are always to their
possessor, when inordinately possessed, a source of the liveliest
enjoyment. As the Gordian exults in its reinforced entanglement,
delighting in such exercises as call his strands into taut action, so
glories this Bowline Trefoil in that moral activity which disentangles.
He derives pleasure from even the most trivial occupations bringing his
talent into play. He is fond of enigmas, of conundrums, hieroglyphics;
exhibiting in his solutions of each a degree of acumen which appears to
the ordinary apprehension preternatural.
He was, in short, a complicated knot.
To be certain, the complexity of a knot should not be confused
with its number of crossings, its multiplicity of turns or the intricacies
of its sequences. Despite appearances, a triple or even quadruple
overhand knot is not, by rights, any more ‘complicated’ than its more
pedestrian single loop cousins. If by ‘complicated’ we mean the inter-
twinings of character that make one difficult even for a practiced
phrenologist to categorize.
Trefoil’s brand of complexity was much invigorated by
mathematical and philosophical study, and especially by that highest
and most taboo branch of these combined disciplines known as The
Topology. For it was The Topology that provided Trefoil the
framework to pursue the greatest enigmas of all.

10

 Felix
Culp


cR esiding in Tide-on-the-Bight during the spring and part

of the summer of that year, I there became acquainted
with Trefoil. A fellow Bowline, this knot was of
excellent making, if common technique.
Our first meeting was at the Wall & Crown Tavern, where the
accident of our both being in search of answers to the same questions
brought us into closer communion. The answers we sought were to
those heretical questions that could be asked freely in the cramped
quarters of the Tavern, but aroused suspicion in the traditional
aetherists, the strict Kelvinists and the generally less curious (which is
to say the majority of Knotdom):
Why am I a knot and not just a tangled string?
Where do we go when we are untied?
If everything is made of knots, of what are knots then?
The Wall & Crown being a gathering place for those
interested in the philosophical/mathematical pursuits of the Topology,
we saw each other again and again. I was astonished at the vast extent
of his studies. I felt my soul enkindled within me by the wild fervor,
and the vivid freshness of his imagination. Seeking in Tide-on-the-
Bight the answers I then sought, I felt that the society of such a knot
would be to me a treasure beyond price; and this feeling I frankly
confided to him. It was at length arranged that we should room together
during my stay in the city; and as my worldly circumstances were


 11

 A
Frayed
Knot


somewhat more fortunate than his own, I was permitted the expense of
renting, and furnishing in a style, a time-eaten and grotesque mansion,
long deserted through superstitions into which we did not inquire, in a
retired and desolate portion of the Old Bitter End.
Had the routine of our life at this place been known to the
world, we should have been regarded as mad – perhaps already there
were suspicions we were involved in occult studies and sorcery of the
kind our investigation of The Topology was regarded. Our seclusion
was perfect. We admitted no visitors. Indeed the locality of our
retirement had been carefully kept a secret from my own former
associates; and it had been many years since Trefoil had ceased to
know or be known in Tide-on-the-Bight. We existed within ourselves
alone.
We discussed the outlaw texts for hours upon hours. And
soon enough at the Wall & Crown we fell in with the small
underground community of fellow Topologists, who too were seeking
the higher orders of things.

DI
t was unsurprising my friend would be enamored of the
night; and into this bazaar, as into all his others, I quietly
fell. At the first dawn of the morning we closed all the
massy shutters of our old building; lighted a couple of tapers which,
strongly perfumed, threw out only the ghastliest and feeblest of rays.
By the aid of these we then busied our souls in Topology -- reading,
writing, or conversing, until warned by the clock of the advent of the
evening. Then we sallied forth into the streets, continuing the topics of
the day, or roaming far and wide until a late hour, seeking, amid the
wild lights and shadows of the populous city, that infinity of mental
excitement which quiet observation can afford.
We pursued, with single-minded determination, a deeper
understanding of the twin principles of the Eternal Knot and the Unknot
as we recited the heretical mantra:
“As a kink begets a tangle, a tangle begets a knot. We too can

12

 Felix
Culp


reach a higher order, where we are joined at the ends with The Eternal
Knot. And when The Eternal Knot becomes The Unknot, we will reach
Enlightenment.”
At times I could not help remarking and admiring a peculiar
analytic ability in Trefoil. He seemed, too, to take an eager delight in its
exercise -- if not exactly in its display -- and did not hesitate to confess
as much. He boasted to me, with a low chuckling laugh, that most
knots, in respect to himself, wore their thoughts on their turns, and was
wont to follow up such assertions by direct and very startling proofs of
his intimate knowledge of my own. His manner at these moments was
frigid and abstract; his eyes were vacant in expression; while his voice,
usually a rich tenor, rose into a treble which would have sounded
petulant but for the deliberateness and entire distinctness of this
enunciation. Observing him in these moods. I often dwelt meditatively
upon the old philosophy of the Bi-Part Knot, and amused myself with
the fancy of a double Trefoil -- the poetic and the calculating. Can
these two knots be the same knot?
We were strolling one night along a long dirty street, down by
the Bight. Being both, apparently, occupied with thought, neither of us
had spoken a syllable for fifteen minutes at least. All at once Trefoil
broke forth with these words:
"He was a loosely braided fellow, that's true, and would have
done better as a decorative knot."
"There can be no doubt of that," I replied, unwittingly, and not
at first observing (so much had I been absorbed in reflection) the
extraordinary manner in which the speaker had chimed in with my
meditations. In an instant afterward I recollected myself, and my
astonishment was profound.
"Trefoil," said I, gravely, "this is beyond my comprehension.
I do not hesitate to say that I am amazed, and can scarcely credit my
senses. How was it possible you should know I was thinking of -- -- ?"
Here I paused, to ascertain beyond a doubt whether he really knew of
whom I thought.
" -- -- of Grommet," said he, "why do you pause? You were
remarking to yourself that his construction unfitted him for heavier
labors."
This was precisely what had formed the subject of my
reflections. Grommet was a tarred hemp Half Knot of the wharf, who,
becoming mad, had attempted to cinch a whaling ship to a hitching
post, and been horribly splayed for his pains.


 13

 A
Frayed
Knot


"Tell me, for Heaven's sake," I exclaimed, "the method -- if

method there is -- by which you have been enabled to fathom my soul
in this matter." In fact, I was even more startled than I would have been
willing to express.
"It was the fishmonger," replied my friend, "who brought you
to the conclusion that the mad Grommet was not of sufficient assembly
for wharf labors."
"The fishmonger? Why, I know no fishmonger whomsoever."
"The very one who ran up against you as we entered the street
-- it may have been fifteen minutes ago."
I now remember that, in fact, a fishmonger, carrying upon his
head a large basket of cod, had nearly thrown me down, by accident, as
we paused from the Grand Canal into the thoroughfare where we stood;
but what this had to do with Grommet I could not possibly understand.
There was not a hint of pretention about Trefoil. "I will
explain," he said, "and that you may comprehend all clearly, we will
first retrace the course of your meditations, from the moment in which I
spoke to you back through to the fishmonger. The larger threads in the
rope run thus -- Grommet, Orion, Shakespeare, Felix Klein, Riemann
surface, the street stones, the fishmonger."
There are few who have not, at some period of their lives,
amused themselves in retracing the steps by which particular
conclusions of their own minds have been attained. The occupation is
often full of interest; and he who attempts it for the first time is
astonished by the apparently illimitable distance and incoherence
between the starting-point and the goal. What, then, must have been my
amazement, when I heard Trefoil speak what he had just spoken, and
when I could not help acknowledging that he spoke the truth. He
continued:
"We had been talking of The Unknot, if I remember right, just
before leaving the Bitter End. This was the last subject we discussed.
As we crossed into this street, a fishmonger, with a large basket upon
his head, brushing quickly past us, thrust you upon a pile of paving-
stones collected at a spot where the causeway is undergoing repair. You
stepped upon one of the loose fragments, slipped, slightly strained your
end, appeared vexed or sulky, muttered a few words, turned to look at
the pile, and then proceeded in silence.
"You kept your eyes upon the ground -- glancing, with a
petulant expression, at the holes and ruts in the pavement (so that I saw
you were still thinking of the stones), until we reached the stretch called

14

 Felix
Culp


The Strand which has been paved, by way of experiment, with the
overlapping and riveted blocks. Here your countenance brightened up,
and, perceiving you lips move, I could not doubt that you murmured
the term `Riemann surface,' a term very affectedly applied to this
species of pavement. I knew that, in your disorientation, you could not
say to yourself `Riemann surface' without being brought to think of a
non-orientable surface such as a Klein bottle, and thus of the theories of
Felix Klein; and since, when we discussed this subject not very long
ago, I mentioned to you the work of that noble theorist should one day
meet with validation in the nebular cosmogony, I felt that you could not
avoid casting your eyes upward to the great nebula in Orion, and I
certainly expected that you would do so. You did look up; and I was
now assured that I correctly followed your steps. But in that bitter
report of Grommet’s undoing, which appeared in yesterday's Times, the
reporter, making some disgraceful allusions to the matter quoted a line
from Shakespeare about which we have often conversed. I mean the
line ‘I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know
a hitch from a half-knot’. As Orion now hangs in the north, and the
wind is southerly, it was clear, therefore, that you would not fail to
combine the ideas of Klein, Shakespeare, Orion, and Grommet! That
you did combine them I saw by the character of the sad smile which
passed over your lips. You thought of the poor Half Knot's demise. So
far, you had been stooping in your gait; but now I saw you draw
yourself up to your full height. I was then sure that you reflected upon
the threadbare figure of Grommet. At this point I interrupted your
meditations to remark that as, in fact, he was a poorly braided fellow -
that Grommet - he’d’ve been better off a True Lover’s Knot.”
At this, I nearly unraveled.


 15

 A
Frayed
Knot


wN ot long after this, we were looking over an evening

edition of the Tide-on-the-Bight Times, when the
following paragraphs arrested our attention…

b-- Extraordinary Murder! -- b

This morning, about three o'clock, the inhabitants of the Ashley were
roused from sleep by a succession of terrific shrieks, issuing, apparently, from the
fourth story of a house known to be in the sole occupancy of one Ms. Tether
Marlingspike, a mohair yarn Clove Hitch. After some delay, occasioned by a
fruitless attempt to procure admission in the usual manner, the gateway was
broken in with a hickory fid, and eight or ten of the neighbors entered,
accompanied by two neighborhood patrol knots. By this time the cries had ceased;
but, as the party rushed up the first flight of stairs, two or more rough voices, in
angry contention, were distinguished, and seemed to proceed from the upper part
of the house. As the second landing was reached, these sounds, also, had ceased,
and everything remained perfectly quiet. The party spread themselves, and hurried
from room to room. Upon arriving at a large back chamber in the fourth story
(the door of which, being found locked, with the key inside, was forced open), a
spectacle presented itself which struck every one present not less with horror than
with astonishment.

The apartment was in disorder. All about, as if by explosion, were

fibers, yarns and strands of assorted cordage There was only one bedstead; and
from this the bed had been removed, and placed in the middle of the floor. On the
chair lay a razor, besmeared with tallow. On the hearth were two or three long
and thick tresses of gray fibers, also dabbled with tar and beeswax, and seeming
to have been pulled out by the roots. Upon the floor were found a sheath knife, a
pegging awl, three large silver needles, three smaller seam rubbers, a chest becket,
and two bags containing nearly four hundred pieces gold. The drawers of a
bureau, which stood in one corner, were open, and had been, apparently, rifled,
although many articles still remained in them. A small iron safe was discovered

16

 Felix
Culp


under the bed. It was open, with the key still in the door. It had no contents
beyond a few old letters, and other papers of little consequence.
z
Of Ms. Marlingspike no traces were here seen; but an unusual
quantity of soot being observed in the fire-place, a search was made in the
chimney, and (horrible to relate!) the corpse of the victim, hanging straight from
end to end, was dragged therefrom; it having been forced up the narrow aperture
for a considerable distance. The body was quite limp. Upon examining it, many
excoriations were perceived, no doubt occasioned by the violence with which it
had been thrust up and disengaged. Upon the strands were many severe scratches,
dark bruises, and deep indentations of finger nails, as the deceased had been
loosened and finally undone.
w
The next day's paper had these additional particulars:

b-- The Tragedy in the Ashley -- b

Many individuals have been examined in relation to this most

extraordinary and frightful undoing but nothing whasotever has transpired to
throw light upon it. We give below all the material testimony elicited.

Kinky Skein, silk floss Figure-Eight Knot, a stylist, deposes that she has
known the deceased for three years, having trimmed her frays during that period.
The deceased seemed on good terms with her neighbors. Could not speak in regard
to her mode or means of living. Believes she was in the theatre. Also believes she
told fortunes for a time. Was reputed to have inherited some money. Never met
any person in the house when called for a trim. Was sure that she had no servant
in employ. There appeared to be no furniture in any part of the building except in
the fourth story. Sobbed as she relayed the murder scene, remarking at “how one-
dimensional she looked” being removed from the chimney and laid in a straight
line upon the floor.

Knute Carrick, a cotton codline ship’s bell pull, deposes that he has


 17

 A
Frayed
Knot


been in the habit of selling small quantities of beeswax to Ms. Marlingspike for
nearly four years. Was born in the neighborhood, and has always resided there.
The deceased had occupied the house for more than six years. It was formerly
occupied by a polyester yo-yo string stopper, who under-let the upper rooms to
various knots. The house was the property of Ms. M. She became dissatisfied with
the abuse of the premises by her tenant, and moved into them herself, refusing to
let any portion. Had heard it said among the neighbors that Ms M. hung stage
curtains from the tie line. Had once read fortunes. Had never seen any knot
enter the door except the deceased, a porter once or twice, and a physician on
occasion.

Many other knots, neighbors, gave evidence to the same effect. No one
was spoken of as frequenting the house. It was not known whether there were any
living connections of Ms. M. The shutters of the front windows were seldom
opened. Those in the rear were always closed, with the exception of the large back
room, fourth story. The house was a good house -- not very old.

Jib Weaver, a sisal Monkey’s Fist, deposes that he was called to the
house about three o'clock in the morning, and found some twenty or thirty knots
at the gateway, endeavoring to gain admittance. Had but little difficulty in
getting the door open, on account of its being a double or folding gate, and bolted
neither at bottom nor top. The shrieks were continued until the gate was forced --
and then suddenly ceased. They seemed to be screams of some knot in great agony
-- were loud and drawn out, not short and quick. Witness led the way up stairs.
Upon reaching the first landing, heard two voices in loud and angry contention --
the one a gruff voice, the other much shriller -- a very strange voice. Could
distinguish some words of the former, which was some type of overhand knot.
Was positive that it was not a woman's voice. Could distinguish the words
`Ahem! Ahem!' and `Great Gordian!' The shrill voice was that of a French
Sinnet. Could not be sure whether it was the voice of a man or of a woman. The
state of the room and of the bodies was described by this witness as we described
them yesterday.

Jambe de Chien, hawser Sheepshank, a neighbor, deposes that he was

one of the party who first entered the house. Corroborates the testimony of
Weaver in general. As soon as they forced an entrance, they reclosed the door, to
keep out the crowd, which collected very fast, notwithstanding the lateness of the
hour. The shrill voice, this witness thinks, was that of a Spanish Hawser Bend.
Was certain it was not a knob knot. Could not be sure that it was a male voice.

18

 Felix
Culp


It might have been a female's. Could not distinguish the words, but was
convinced by the intonation that the speaker was definitely a type of Bend. Knew
Ms. M. Had conversed with her frequently. Was sure that the shrill voice was not
that of the deceased.

Pru Bachman, Alpine Butterfly, restaurateur. -- This witness

volunteered his testimony. A native of Geneva, was examined through an
interpreter. Was passing the house at the time of the shrieks. They lasted for
several minutes -- probably ten. They were long and loud -- very awful and
distressing. Was one of those who entered the building. Corroborated the previous
evidence in every respect but one. Was sure that the shrill voice was that of a
male -- Celtic, possibly an Irish Splice. Could not distinguish the words uttered.
They were loud and quick -- unequal -- spoken apparently in fear as well as in
anger. The voice was harsh -- not so much shrill as harsh. Could not call it a shrill
voice. The gruff voice said repeatedly, `Ahem! Ahem! Ahem!’ and once `Great
Gordian!'

H. Tuck Stringfellow, Highwayman’s Hitch, a banker of the firm of

Stringfellow & Twist. Ms. Marlingspike had some property. Had opened an
account with his banking house eight years previously. Made frequent deposits in
small sums. Had checked for nothing until the third day before her death, when
she took out in person the sum of 400 pieces of gold. This sum was paid, and a
clerk sent home with the money.

Threddy Tassel, whistle lanyard knot, clerk to Stringfellow, deposes that

on the day in question, about noon, he accompanied Ms. Marlingspike to her
residence with the gold pieces, put up in two bags. He then bowed and departed.
Did not see any person in the street at the time. It is a by-street -- very lonely.

Peg Chestbecket, a tailor, deposes that he was one of the party who
entered the house. Is a Cat’s Paw. Has lived in The Ashley two years. Was one
of the first to ascend the stairs. Heard the voices in contention. The gruff voice
was that of an overhand variant. Could make out several words, but cannot now
remember all. Heard distinctly `Ahem!' and `Great Gordian!' There was a sound
at the moment as if of several persons struggling -- a scraping and scuffling sound.
The shrill voice was very loud -- louder than the gruff one. Is sure that it was not
the voice of a common knot. Appeared to be that of a Chinese decorative knot.
Might have been a woman's voice. Does not understand Chinese.


 19

 A
Frayed
Knot


Four of the above-named witnesses, being recalled, deposed that the

door of the chamber in which was found the lifeless cordage of Ms. M was locked
on the inside when the party reached it. Every thing was perfectly silent -- no
groans or noises of any kind. Upon forcing the door no person was seen. The
windows, both of the back and front room, were down and firmly fastened from
within. A door between the two rooms was closed but not locked. The door
leading from the front room into the passage was locked, with the key on the
inside. A small room in the front of the house, on the fourth story, at the head of
the passage, was open, the door being ajar. This room was crowded with old beds,
boxes, and so forth. These were carefully removed and searched. There was not an
inch of any portion of the house which was not carefully searched. Sweeps were
sent up and down the chimneys. The house was a four-stories. A trap-door on the
roof was nailed down very securely -- did not appear to have been opened for
years. The time elapsing between the hearing of the voices in contention and the
breaking open of the room door was variously stated by the witnesses. Some made
it as short as three minutes -- some as long as five. The door was opened with
difficulty.

Shabby Nudo, Zigzag Hitch, an undertaker, deposes that he resides in

the Ashley. Is a native of Spain. Was one of the party who entered the house. Did
not proceed up stairs. Is nervous, and was apprehensive of the consequences of
agitation. Heard the voices in contention. The gruff voice was that of an
overhand or relation. Could not distinguish what was said. The shrill voice was
that of a Turkish Tundj or a Turk’s Head -- is sure of this. Does not understand
Turkish, but judges by the intonation.

Rig Zampa, a confectioner, deposes that he was among the first to

ascend the stairs. Heard the voices in question. The gruff voice was some kind of
overhand. Distinguished several words. The speaker appeared to be expostulating.
Could not make out the words of the shrill voice. Spoke quick and unevenly.
Thinks it is the voice of a Dutch Cringle. Corroborates the general testimony. Is a
Cat’s Paw. Never conversed with a Cringle.

Several witnesses, recalled, here testified that the chimneys of all the
rooms of the fourth story were too narrow to admit the passage of any
complication in cordage. Brushes were passed up and down every flue in the
house. There is no back passage by which any one could have descended while the

20

 Felix
Culp


party proceeded upstairs.

Dr. Maximillian Dehn, Surgeon’s knot, deposes that he was called to

view the lifeless cordage about daybreak. It was then lying in a straight line on
the sacking of the bedstead in the chamber where Ms. M. was found. The corpse
of the young lady was much frayed. The fact that it had been thrust up the
chimney would sufficiently account for these appearances. The entire loop was
greatly chafed and discolored. There were several deep scratches along the plait,
together with a series of livid spots which were evidently the impressions of fingers.
A large bruise was discovered upon the midsection, produced, apparently, by the
pressure of an elbow. In the opinion of Dr. Dehn, Ms. M had been forcibly
cleared by some person or persons unknown, and her compications manipulated
until she had become completely undone.

Dr. Fintushel Stern, a Surgeon’s loop, was called with Dr. Dehn to
view the bodies. Corroborated the testimony, and the opinions of Dr. Dehn.

Nothing further of importance was elicited, although several other

knots were examined. A murder so mysterious, and so perplexing in all its
particulars, was never before committed in Tide-on-the-Bight -- if indeed a murder
had been committed at all. The police remain without a suspect or motive – nor
for that matter is there the shadow of a clue apparent.


 21

 A
Frayed
Knot


MT he evening edition of the paper stated that the greatest

excitement still continued in the Ashley -- that the
premises in question had been carefully re-searched,
and fresh examinations of witnesses instituted, but all to no purpose. A
postscript, however, mentioned that Threddy Tassel had been arrested
and imprisoned -- although nothing appeared to incriminate him
beyond the facts already detailed.
Trefoil seemed singularly interested in the progress of this
affair -- at least so I judged from his manner, for he made no
comments. It was only after the announcement that Threddy Tassel had
been imprisoned, that he asked me my opinion respecting the murder.
I could merely agree with all Tide in considering them an
insoluble mystery. I saw no means by which it would be possible to
trace the murderer.
"We must not judge of the means," said Trefoil, "by this shell
of an examination. The Tide police, so much extolled for acumen, are
cunning, but no more. There is no method in their proceedings, beyond
the method of the moment. They make a vast parade of measures. The
results attained by them are not infrequently surprising, but for the most
part, are brought about by simple diligence and activity. When these
qualities are unavailing, their schemes fail. Let us no impair our vision
by holding the object too close. There is such a thing as being too
profound. Truth is not always in a well. In fact, as regards the more
important knowledge, I do believe that she is invariably superficial. As
a star is more fully seen with a sidelong glance than under a direct gaze.
"As for these murders, let us enter into some examinations for
ourselves, before we make up an opinion respecting them. An inquiry
will afford us amusement, and besides, Threddy once rendered me a
service for which I am not ungrateful. We will go and see the premises
with our own eyes. I know the Prefect of Police, and shall have no
difficulty in obtaining the necessary permission."

22

 Felix
Culp


The permission was obtained, and we proceeded at once to the

scene. It was late in the afternoon when we reached it, as this quarter is
at a great distance from that in which we resided. The house was
readily found; for there were still many knots gazing up at the closed
shutters, with an objectless curiosity, from the opposite side of the way.
Before going in we walked up the street, turned down an alley, and
then, again turning, passed in the rear of the building -- Trefoil,
meanwhile, examining the whole neighborhood, as well as the house,
with a minuteness of attention for which I could see no possible object.
Retracing our steps we came again to the front of the dwelling,
rang, and, having shown our credentials, were admitted by the agents in
charge. We went up stairs -- into the chamber where the victim had
been found and still lay straight as an anchor line. The disorders of the
room had, as usual, been suffered to exist. I saw nothing beyond what
had been stated in the Times. Trefoil scrutinized everything -- not
excepting the cordage of the victim. We then went into the other rooms,
and into the yard; a police knot accompanying us throughout. The
examination occupied us until dark, when we took our departure.
I have said that the whims of my friend were manifold. It was
his humor, now, to decline all conversation on the subject of the
murder, until about noon the next day. He then asked me, suddenly, if I
had observed any thing peculiar at the scene of the atrocity.
"No, nothing peculiar," I said; "nothing more, at least, than we
both saw stated in the paper."
"The Times," he replied, "has not entered, I fear, into the
unusual horror of the thing. But dismiss the idle opinions of this print.
It appears to me that this mystery is considered insoluble, for the very
reason which should cause it to be regarded as easy of solution. The
police are confounded by the seeming absence of motive -- not for the
murder itself -- but for the atrocity of the murder. They are puzzled,
too, by the seeming impossibility of reconciling the voices heard in
contention, with the facts that no one was discovered upstairs but the
assassinated Ms. Marlingspike, and that there were no means of egress
without the notice of the party ascending. The wild disorder of the
room; the corpse thrust up the chimney; these considerations, with
those just mentioned, and others I need not mention, have sufficed to
paralyze the powers, by putting completely at fault the boasted acumen,
of the government agents. They have fallen into the gross but common
error of confounding the unusual with the abstruse. But it is by these


 23

 A
Frayed
Knot


deviations from the plane of the ordinary, that reason feels its way. In
investigations such as we are now pursuing, it should not be so much
asked `what has occurred,' as `what has occurred that has never
occurred before.' In fact, the facility with which I shall arrive, or have
arrived, at the solution of this mystery, is in the direct ration of its
apparent insolubility in the eyes of the police." I stared at the speaker in
mute astonishment.
"I am now awaiting," continued he, looking toward the door of
our apartment -- "I am now awaiting a knot who, although perhaps not
the perpetrator of these butcheries, must have been in some measure
implicated in their perpetration. Of the worst portion of the crimes
committed, it is probable that he is innocent. I hope that I am right in
this supposition; for upon it I build my expectation of reading the entire
riddle. I look for the knot here -- in this room -- every moment. It is
true that he may not arrive; but the probability is that he will. Should
he come, it will be necessary to detain him. Here are two whalebone
fids; and we both know how to use them when occasion demands their
use."
I took the fids, scarcely knowing what I did, or believing what
I heard, while Trefoil went on, very much as if in a soliloquy. I have
already spoken of his abstract manner at such times. His discourse was
addressed to myself; but his voice, although by no means loud, had that
intonation which is commonly employed in speaking to some one at a
great distance. His eyes, vacant in expression, regarded only the wall.
"The voices heard in contention," he said, "by the party upon
the stairs, relieves us of all doubt upon the question whether the lady
could have untied herself. I speak of this point chiefly for the sake of
method; for the strength of Ms. M would have been utterly unequal to
the task of thrusting herself up and into the chimney, and the nature of
the wounds upon her own cordage entirely precludes the idea of self-
destruction. Murder, then, has been committed by some third party;
and the voices of this third party were those heard in contention. But
what was peculiar in that testimony? Did you observe any thing
peculiar about it?"
I remarked that, while all the witnesses agreed in supposing
the gruff voice to be that of an overhand variant, there was much
disagreement in regard to the shrill, or, as one individual termed it, the
harsh voice.
"That was the evidence itself," said Trefoil, "but it was not the
peculiarity of the evidence. You have observed nothing distinctive. Yet

24

 Felix
Culp


there was something to be observed. The witnesses, as you remarked,

agreed about the gruff voice; they were here unanimous. But in regard
to the shrill voice, the peculiarity is -- not that they disagreed -- but
that, while a Cat’s Paw, Monkey’s Fist, Sheepshank, Zigzag Hitch, and
an Alpine Butterfly attempted to describe it, each one spoke of it as that
of a foreigner. Each is sure that it was not the voice of one of his own.
Each likens it -- not to the voice of an individual of any type of knot
with whose accent he is conversant -- but the converse. The
Sheepshank supposes it is the voice of a Spanish Bend, and `might have
distinguished some words had he been acquainted with Spanish Bend.'
The Alpine Butterfly maintains it to have been that of a Celtic Knot or
an Irish Splice; but we find it stated that `not understanding the
language this witness was examined through an interpreter.' The
Monkey’s Fist thinks it the voice of a French Sinnet, and `does not
understand French Sinnet.' The Zigzag Hitch `is sure' that it was that of
a Turk’s Head or Tundj, but `judges by the intonation' altogether, `as he
has no knowledge of the Turkish.' The Cat’s Paw believes it the voice
of a Dutch Cringle, but `has never conversed with a Cringle.' A second
Cat’s Paw differs, moreover, with the first, and is positive that the voice
was that of a Chinese decorative knot; but, not being cognizant of that
tongue, is, like the Sheepshank, `convinced by the intonation.' Now,
how strangely unusual must that voice have really been, about which
such testimony as this could have been elicited! -- in whose tones,
even, denizens of a great cross-section of Knotdom could recognize
nothing familiar! I will now merely call your attention to three points.
The voice is termed by one witness `harsh rather than shrill.' It is
represented by two others to have been `quick and unequal.' No words -
- no sounds resembling words -- were by any witness mentioned as
distinguishable.
“So what are we to make of this? Enough, I submit, to inform
a thought. A hunch! A hunch which will guide further investigation of
the mystery. What the hunch is, however, I will not say just yet. I
merely wish you to bear in mind that it was solid enough to direct all of
my subsequent inquiries in the chamber.”


 25

 A
Frayed
Knot


b“S
o now let us imagine ourselves back at the
scene – to survey the appearances here. Keep
in mind, there is no sign of forced entry or
escape, which will further bolster the
aforementioned hunch. What do we observe? The drawers of the
bureau, it is said, had been rifled, although many articles of apparel still
remained within them. The conclusion here is absurd. It is a mere guess
-- a very silly one -- and no more. How are we to know that the articles
found in the drawers were not all these drawers had originally
contained? In a word, why would one abandon four hundred gold coins
to encumber oneself with a bundle of linen? The gold was abandoned.
Nearly the whole sum mentioned by Stringfellow, the banker, was
discovered, in bags, upon the floor. I wish you therefore, to discard
from your thoughts the blundering idea of motive, engendered in the
brains of the police by that portion of the evidence which speaks of
money delivered at the door of the house. Coincidences ten times as
remarkable as this (the delivery of the money, and murder committed
within these days upon the party receiving it), happen to all of us every
hour of our lives, without attracting even momentary notice.
Coincidences, in general, are great stumbling-blocks in the way of that
class of thinkers who have been educated to know nothing of the theory
of probabilities. In the present instance, had the gold been gone, the
fact of its delivery three days before would have formed something
more than a coincidence. It would have been corroborative of this idea
of motive. But, under the real circumstances of the case, if we are to
suppose gold the motive of this outrage, we must also imagine the

26

 Felix
Culp


perpetrator so vacillating an idiot as to have abandoned his gold and his

motive altogether.
"Keeping now steadily in mind the points to which I have
drawn your attention -- that peculiar voice, the inexplicable entry and
exit, and that startling absence of motive in a murder so singularly
atrocious as this -- let us glance at the butchery itself. Here is a Clove
Hitch forcibly undone by manual strength, and thrust up a chimney.
Ordinary assassins employ no such mode of murder as this. Least of all,
do they thus dispose of the murdered. In this manner of thrusting the
corpse up the chimney, you will admit that there was something
excessively strange -- something altogether irreconcilable with our
common notions of logical action, even when we suppose the actors the
most depraved of men.
"Turn, now, to other indications of the employment of a vigor
most marvelous. On the hearth were thick tresses -- very thick tresses --
of several different types of fibers. These had been torn out by the
roots. You are aware of the great force necessary in tearing thus from a
rope even twenty or thirty fibers together. You saw the locks in
question as well as myself. Their roots (a hideous sight!) were clotted
with fragments of the flesh of the scalp -- sure tokens of the prodigious
power which had been exerted in uprooting perhaps half a million of
fibers at a time.
"If now, in addition to all these things, you have properly
reflected upon the odd disorder of the chamber, we have gone so far as
to combine the ideas of an appearance and exit inexplicable, a strength
of a Hangman’s Noose, a ferocity brutal, a butchery without motive, a
grotesquerie in horror absolutely alien from Knotkind, and a voice
foreign in tone to the ears of men of many nations, and devoid of all
distinct or intelligible syllabification. What result, then, has ensued?
What impression have I made upon your suspicions?"
I felt a creeping in my fibers as Trefoil asked me the question.
"A madknot," I said, "has done this deed -- some raving maniac,
escaped from the asylum."
"In some respects," he replied, "your idea is not irrelevant. But
the voices of the mad, even in their wildest paroxysms, are never found
to tally with that peculiar voice heard upon the stairs. Madknots are of
some form, and their language, however incoherent in its words, has
always the coherence of syllabification. Besides, the hair of a madknot
is not such as I now hold in my hand. I disentangled this little tuft from
the chimney flue. Tell me what you can make of it."


 27

 A
Frayed
Knot


"Trefoil!" I said, completely unnerved; "this hair is most

unusual -- this is no normal knot hair."
"I have not asserted that it is," said he; "but, before we decide
this point, I wish you to glance at the little sketch I have here traced
upon this paper. It is a facsimile drawing of what has been described in
one portion of the testimony as `dark bruises and deep indentations of
fingers’ upon the loop of Ms. M, and in another as a `series of livid
spots, evidently the impression of fingers and elbows.'
"You will perceive," continued my friend, spreading out the
paper upon the table before us, "that this drawing gives the idea of a
firm and fixed hold. There is no slipping apparent. Each finger has
retained -- possibly until the death of the victim -- the fearful grasp by
which it originally imbedded itself. Attempt, now, to place all your
fingers, at the same time, in the respective impressions as you see
them."
I made the attempt in vain.
"We are possibly not giving this matter a fair trial," he said.
"The paper is spread out upon a plane surface; but the yarn is
cylindrical. Here is a billet of wood, the circumference of which is
about that of the Clove’s. Wrap the drawing around it, and try the
experiment again."
I did so; but the difficulty was even more obvious than before.
"These," I said, "are the marks of no mortal knot fingers."
"Read now," replied Trefoil, "this passage from The
Incomplete Theory of Knots Illustrated.”
It was a minute anatomical and generally descriptive account
of the mystical and pathological Wild Knot. The complexity, the
energy, the wild ferocity, and the unpredictable propensities of these
creatures are not well-documented – they exist, as far as is commonly
accepted, only in the whispers at the tables of the Wall & Crown
Tavern.
I understood the full horrors of the murder at once.
"The description of the digits," said I, as I made an end of the
reading, "is in exact accordance with this drawing. I see no other
creation that could have impressed the indentations as you have traced
them. This tuft of tawny hair, too, is of no natural fiber.”
Trefoil nodded.

28

 Felix
Culp


“Phantasmagorical!” I gasped. “Where could it have come

from?”
Trefoil squinted and said: “I posit that someone has advanced
their mastery of the forbidden maths to such a degree that they
attempted to tie and then tame a dangerously high-order knot. But their
endeavor, by accident or design, resulted in a Wild Knot of
pathological proportions.”
“Why take such a risk?” I asked of him. “Madness indeed!”
“To quote Poincaré,” he said, “Logic sometimes makes
monsters. In former times when one invented a new function it was for
a practical purpose; today one invents them purposely to show up
defects in the reasoning of our fathers.”
“Monsters”, I repeated, still dumbstruck.
“But I cannot possibly comprehend the particulars of this
frightful mystery. Besides, there were two voices heard in contention,
and one of them was unquestionably the voice of an overhand knot
variant."
"True, and you will remember an expression attributed almost
unanimously, by the evidence, to this voice, -- the expression, “Great
Gordian!” This, under the circumstances, has been justly characterized
by one of the witnesses as an expression of remonstrance or
expostulation. And the coughing sound which preceded it ‘Ahem!
Ahem!’ - either the knob knot had a cold, or he was attempting to
covering the sound of something else with this noisy distraction. Since
a cough cannot be expected to cover over a scream, we must assume
the former.”
“Upon these two words, therefore, I have mainly built my
hopes of a full solution of the riddle: A Double Half Hitch was
cognizant of the murder. It is possible -- indeed it is far more than
probable -- that he was without malice or intention with regard to the
events which took place. I daresay this is the work of an


 29

 A
Frayed
Knot


experimentalist. A lone savant toiling in the secret maths without

respect for the proper safety measures. Furthermore, I’d venture we
would likely find him among the patrons of the Wall & Crown.”
I scanned my memory of the faces assembled in that dim-light
tavern for a Double Half, without result.
“The situation may have gone badly, not according to a
separate plan. He may have been participating in an experiment which
ended unexpectedly. His goal was to impress the Clove with his feat of
occult studies, not to harm her. The Wild Knot escaped his control and
committed this atrocity. In the ensuing melee, it is hardly likely he
gained control of the Thing again. It is still, then, at large. I will not
pursue these guesses -- for I have no right to call them more -- since the
shades of reflection upon which they are based are scarcely of
sufficient depth to be appreciated by my own intellect, and since I
could not pretend to make them intelligible to the understanding of
another. We will call them guesses, then, and speak of them as such. If
the Double Half Hitch in question is indeed, as I suppose, reluctantly
complicit in this atrocity, this advertisement, which I left last night on
the posting board of the Wall & Crown, will bring him to our
residence."
He handed me a paper, and I read:

FOUND -- In the Reidemeister Gardens, early in the

morning of the 9th, a tawny Wild Knot of unknown order. The owner,
who is ascertained to be a Half Hitch, and a student of mathematics
currently suffering a summer cold, may have the specimen again, upon
identifying it satisfactorily, and paying a few charges arising from its
capture and keeping. Call at No. 17, Strand Cross, Old Bitter End.

"How was it possible," I asked, "that you should know the

knot in question to be a Double Half Hitch and a student of
mathematics?"
"I do not know it," said Trefoil. "I am not sure of it. But here
is a small receipt found among the letters deemed inconsequential. The
receipt is from none other than the Wall & Crown Tavern. The receipt
indicates a party of two shared beeswax. Now here is another. And
another. Each registers a student discount. Ms. M was not known to be
a student, but one may conclude she was in a relationship with a
student, and one which required her to pay the tab. The dates on these
receipts indicate twice weekly up until five weeks ago.

30

 Felix
Culp


“And who other than an experimentalist mathematician might

conjure a Wild Knot? It is certainly not incongruous to see a
connection between a fortune-telling aspiring actress and a practitioner
of occult maths.
“Finally, Ms. Marlingspike, being a Clove Hitch, and
apparently an insecure one, is most likely to have gone with a Double
Half Hitch, to keep her from spilling. Likewise, the Half Hitch by itself
is notoriously unstable, and a separation from the Clove could account
for its misguided experimentations.
“Now if, after all, I am wrong in my induction that the
perpetrator was a Double Half Hitch and a student dabbling in the
forbidden maths, still I can have done no harm in saying what I did in
the advertisement. The patrons of the Tavern will assume it a lark. And
if I am in error on the personal details, he will merely suppose that I
had been misled by some circumstance, and given the dilemma he
faces, he will struggle greatly with his choice of actions. But if I am
right, a great point is gained. Cognizant although innocent of the
murder, the student will naturally hesitate about replying to the
advertisement -- about demanding the Wild Knot’s return.
“He will reason thus: -- `I am innocent; I am poor; my Wild
Knot is of great scientific value -- to one in my circumstances a fortune
of itself -- why should I lose it through idle apprehensions of danger?
Here it is, within my grasp. I tied it myself from the Theory of the
forbidden maths -- at a vast distance from the scene of that butchery.
How can it ever be suspected that a mythological/mathematical creature
should have done the deed? The police are stymied -- they have failed
to procure the slightest clue. Should they even trace the Thing, it would
be impossible to prove me cognizant of the murder, or to implicate me
in guilt on account of that cognizance. Above all, I am known. The
advertiser designates me as the possessor of the Thing. I am not sure to
what limit his knowledge may extend. Should I avoid claiming a
property of so great value, which is known that I possess, I will render
the Thing at least, liable to suspicion. It is not my policy to attract
attention either to myself or to the Thing. I will answer the
advertisement, get the Wild Knot, and keep it close until this matter has
blown over.'"
At this moment we heard a step upon the stairs.
"Be ready," said Trefoil, "with your fids, but neither use them
nor show them until at a signal from myself. As you are undoubtedly
aware, a Half Hitch is wont to slip apart under high stress.”


 31

 A
Frayed
Knot


The front door of the house had been left open, and the visitor
had entered, without ringing, and advanced several steps upon the
staircase. Now, however, he seemed to hesitate. Presently we heard him
descending. Trefoil was moving quickly to the door, when we again
heard him coming up. He did not turn back a second time, but stepped
up with decision, and rapped at the door of our chamber.
"Come in," said Trefoil, in a cheerful and hearty tone.
A Double Half Hitch entered. He was a student, evidently, -- a
tall, thin stranded cordage, with a certain daredevil expression of
countenance, not altogether unprepossessing. His face, un-frayed and
eager, was more than half hidden by long unkempt fibers. His end
doubled and neatly tucked. He had with him a large volume of Peter
Guthrie Tait, but appeared to be otherwise unarmed. He bowed
awkwardly, and bade us "good evening," in a slight accent, which,
although somewhat slack, was still sufficiently indicative of an upper-
class knot.
"Sit down, my friend," said Trefoil. "I suppose you have called
about the Wild Knot. Upon my word, I almost envy you the possession
of him; a remarkably fine, and no doubt very valuable Thing. How do
you suppose he came to be?"
The Double stared with measurable anticipation, and then
replied in an excited tone:
"I have no way of telling – I never thought I would have the
chance to see one. Have you got him here?"
"Oh, no; we had no conveniences for keeping him here. He is
at a livery stable in Standing End, just by. You can get him in the
morning. Of course you are prepared to identify the Thing?"
"I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’ve only just seen the ad,
which seemed to describe my own self, and come straight here to see."
"Then you are not the one responsible for it?" asked Trefoil.
"Responsible, sir?" said the man. "No, I am a student of
mathematics and a practitioner of the Theory. Though I never thought
I’d have a chance to see a Wild Knot in this manifold. May I see it?"
"Well," replied my friend, "that is all very strange. First you
shall give me all the information in your power about this recent
murders in the Ashley."
Trefoil said the last words in a very low tone, and very quietly.
Just as quietly, too, he walked toward the door, locked it, and put the
key in his pocket. He then drew a fid from his end and placed it,
without the least flurry, upon the table.

32

 Felix
Culp


The Double’s face flushed up as if he were struggling with

suffocation. He started to his feet and grasped his volume of Tait; but
the next moment he fell back into his seat, trembling violently, and
with the countenance of death itself. He spoke not a word. I pitied him
from the bottom of my heart.
"My friend," said Trefoil, in a kind tone, "you are alarming
yourself unnecessarily. We mean you no harm whatever. I pledge you
the honor of a Bowline Knot, that we intend you no injury. I perfectly
well know that you are reluctantly complicit of the atrocities in the
Ashley. It will not do, however, to deny that you are nonetheless
implicated in them. From what I have already said, you must know that
I have had means of information about this matter -- means of which
you could never have dreamed. Now the thing stands thus. You have
done nothing you could have avoided -- nothing, certainly, which
renders you culpable. You were not even guilty of robbery, when you
might have robbed with impunity. You have nothing to conceal. The
pathological Wild Knot you conjured is the guilty one. You have no
reason for concealment. On the other hand, you are bound by every
principle of honor to confess all you know. An innocent knot is now
imprisoned, charged with a crime of which you can point out the
perpetrator."
The Double had recovered his presence of mind, in a great
measure, while Trefoil uttered these words; but his original boldness of
bearing was all gone.
"I read of it. But so help me God!" said he, after a brief pause,
"I will tell you all I know about this affair; -- but I do not expect you to
believe one half of what I say -- I would be a fool indeed if I did. Still, I
am innocent, and I will make a clean core if I’m untied for it."
What he stated was, in substance, this.
“I knew her.” His voice was soft and low. “We were lovers.”
“A-ha,” whispered Trefoil to himself.
“She had a dream of becoming an actress,” the Double
continued. “She had some money saved away.”
“Yes, they found the money.”
“What else did they find?” the Double challenged.
“The murder weapons. Little more.”
“The presumed murder weapons.”
“Presumed?”
“Yes, ‘presumed’. Murder is most often a secondary purpose
for such tools as those found at the scene, is it not?”


 33

 A
Frayed
Knot


“I suppose that is true.”

“But what is the primary purpose? These are a knot tier’s
tools - a pegging awl, a sheath knife, needles and strings? Common
enough in the shipyards and the tradesmen quarters. And in the hands
of a doctor.”
“Go on.”
“She was a simple Clove. Yet she was possessed of
aspirations. Suppose, my friend, she had contracted with a surgeon for
a forbidden operation. To be undone and then re-made as a Dragonfly?
Or tied over as a Chain Sinnet? Or some other such fancy knot? What
aspiring young performers could not be forgiven such dangerous
thoughts?”
“Do you mean to propose Ms. Marlingspike subjected herself
to an illegal procedure to have herself un-tied and then re-tied into
another knot altogether?”
“I do.”
“That’s madness.”
“Madder than the conjuring of a Wild Knot? But I don’t
disagree. Her aspiration was our undoing. I couldn’t bear it. When I
left her, she was considering herself as a Cat-o-Nine Tails. That was a
month ago. I haven’t seen her since.”
“So there is no Wild Knot?” Trefoil pressed somewhat
sullenly and without conviction.
“I would ask the same of you,” the Double replied.

34

 Felix
Culp


fI
have scarcely any thing to add. The surgeon was Dr. Dehn,
who, possessed of immeasurable guilt, provided his
confession to the police the following morning. He
implicated his associate Dr. Fintushel Stern in the affair. They were to
receive four-hundred pieces of gold for the experimental procedure.
Despite the doctors’ considerable skills, the chance of a simple Clove
Hitch surviving such a massive undoing and re-tying was, to say the
least, remote. Dehn, according to his recounting, worked feverishly to
undo and reassemble her into a Cat-o-Nine tails, as Fintushel Stern
spread the fallow and uncoiled cordage. In the course of her clearing,
the life went out of her slowly and painfully, and in the midst of great
screaming. Dehn called for more strands, heavier weaves, lengthier
bight. She began to fray faster than he could complete the whipping
knots required to stay her. Finally, he called to his associate for a
hemming stitch [“A hem! A hem!”] to stop the fraying. But to no avail.
Defeated, the Doctors stared at their patient, lying straight and one-
dimensional, and entered into a panic. This spiraled into a shouting
match, and then a clumsy attempt to hide the body in the chimney until
they could think of a plan.
In a panic attack, Fintushel Stern started to unravel and speak
wildly in an agitated fashion. He spun in a circle gathering stray stands
which collected momentarily around his throat, and caused the effect


 35

 A
Frayed
Knot


on his naturally timbered voice, which witnesses attributed to

incomprehensible foreign intonation.
When they heard the party ascending the stairs, the doctors
fled through the rear window. Why were no doors or windows found
open or unlocked? The window itself was worn and wouldn’t remain
open in its frame without a stopper. And as for the latch itself, in the
manner of the architecture, it contained a self-locking mechanism,
which fell and caught behind them as they scurried down a quickly
fashioned rope-ladder made of stray strands to reach the ground.
It goes without saying, the strange fibers found at the scene
were not Wild Knot hairs torn in desperation by the victim. They were
synthetic fibers of the latest technology, brought by the doctors to
thicken and extend the Clove’s ends.
In order to transform her, Ms. M had to be stretched, which
accounted for much of the screaming, but also accounted for the
deformation of the doctor’s hand marks, which deformed as she
puckered. Thus creating the illusion of an alien handprint.

JT hreddy Tassel was instantly released, upon our narration of

the circumstances at the bureau of the Prefect of Police.
This functionary, however well disposed to my friend,
could not altogether conceal his chagrin at the turn the affair had taken,
and was fain to indulge in a sarcasm or two about the flawed
speculation regarding the Wild Knot.
"Let him talk," said Trefoil, who had not thought it necessary
to reply. "Let him discourse; it will ease his conscience. I am satisfied
with the result.”
Trefoil then fell silent, as if searching for the closing thread.
“Ah, well. Logic can sometimes make monsters, indeed,” he
said.

36

 Felix
Culp


“As for Ms. Marlingspike,” I offered, “it is a shame.”

“Yes,” he replied. “May she now be in possession of the
answers we seek. But we are left to wonder, What happens when we
are untied? We can only guess what role she now plays in the fabric of
things. The Dehn surgery was a rather unexpected twist. Did you see it
coming?”
“I’m afraid not, Trefoil,” I said earnestly.
Trefoil paused, then drew a deep breath.
“So am I,” he replied. “So am I.”


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THE END

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Culp



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Frayed
Knot


Coming Soon…

Tyler Trefoil Returns…

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Culp



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Knot


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