Appleby at Allington (21 page)

‘Yes, we are. But one could hardly expect anyone to stay behind.’ Appleby glanced at the straggle of torches around them. ‘Ten of us, I think. It’s a bit intimidating. Do you think we should split up?’

‘I think the castle can be left to the others. Tommy Pride will keep them in order. This is just his sort of thing.’

‘Yes – not quite what he calls a recce, but an operation of a related sort.’ Appleby suddenly made up his mind. ‘We three will go down the drive. Wilfred, do you agree?’

‘Certainly, my dear John. I was going to suggest it, as a matter of fact. If the children know where their uncle Martin was drowned–’

‘I have an idea there isn’t much they don’t know.’

‘Quite so. Well, the end of the lake may, at the moment, have a morbid fascination for them.’

‘A romantic fascination as well,’ Judith said. ‘If young Mr Travis spun them a yarn about the treasure, he may have told them that it is at the bottom of the lake, somewhere near the bridge. If he has checked out as a treasure-hunter himself, it might amuse him to turn Eugene, Digby, Sandra, and Stephanie on to the job. He wouldn’t see anything irresponsible in it.’

‘Come on, then.’ Appleby had turned in his tracks. ‘I’d rather like a fourth in the person of Rasselas. But I think he’s leading the cavalcade to the castle.’

‘Yes,’ Judith said – and murmured, ‘Here’s a fourth, all the same.’

It was Owain Allington, who had caught up with them unseen. He flashed his torch briefly by way of identifying them.

‘A change of plan?’ he asked.

‘We’re going down the drive,’ Appleby said. ‘The one by the lake. As far as the road and the bridge. We think it’s possible they may be down there.’

‘I can’t think why. But I’ll come with you, all the same. Not that I feel this commotion is necessary. There are no criminals lurking round Allington–’

‘It wasn’t your former view,’ Appleby said.

‘Never mind my former view. These children are certainly out on a prank, as you have said. No harm is likely to befall them.’

‘Osborne says that the castle is rather dangerous ground. And I’m not sure the same isn’t to be said of the deeper part of the lake.’

‘That is true.’ Owain Allington’s voice sounded indifferent in the darkness. ‘But Eugene and Digby are perfectly sensible boys. They are even intelligent boys – which is surprising, when you consider their imbecile parents.’ The voice was now contemptuous. ‘They won’t run the little girls into anything foolish. Or not intentionally. Of course, one can’t insure against sheer chance. It
is
possible to set someone to a fatal prank – without knowing what one is about.’

Silence succeeded upon this odd remark of Allington’s. They were now on the drive, and making good speed towards the high road. Glancing back over his left shoulder, Appleby could see the flickering and waving torches of the other party now approaching the castle – which itself showed in barely perceptible silhouette against the night sky. Appleby halted, and turned to look directly back up the drive. The form of the house too ought to have been visible, but was obscured behind the curved line of lights on the terrace. He told himself that he was looking straight at the heart of at least Martin Allington’s mystery. But he had known this for some time. Unfortunately the knowledge was of no use to him. It would remain of no use to him until one final piece of the jigsaw puzzle turned up and was fitted into place.

‘I think I hear something,’ Wilfred Osborne said.

‘And I think they’ve got a camp-fire.’ Judith had come to a standstill. ‘It seems almost a shame to break in on them.’ She laughed softly. ‘John, our own children used to do just this sort of thing.’

‘And your grandchildren,’ Osborne said, ‘will be doing it in no time.’ He put a hand on Judith’s arm. ‘And the grandparents will be more alarmed than the parents are.’ He paused comfortably on this bachelor’s wisdom. ‘Allington, don’t you agree?’

‘I know no more about parenthood than you do.’ It was with a sudden harshness that Owain Allington’s voice came out of the darkness. ‘But these children are up to some devilry which must be stopped.’

‘Yes,’ Appleby said. ‘I’m against devilry. And it’s not all devilry that gets stopped in time.’

It was a very jolly little camp-fire. Among its materials Appleby could discern several of those hurdles which the detective police are fond of carrying around for the purpose of screening the sites of mysterious or unseemly occurrences from the public view. On either side of it sat one of the Misses Barford. Sandra was in a nightdress and jodhpurs. Stephanie was wearing a cricket-shirt and a pair of shorts so much too big for her that they must certainly have been borrowed from one of her cousins for the occasion. Digby was standing by the edge of the lake. Unlike the companions of the reprehensible Richard Cyphus on the previous day, he was decorously clad in a bathing-slip. He was also clad in an unbelievable amount of mud. From the lake itself came splashing and gasping sounds. Then out of it emerged first the dripping head of Eugene, and then Eugene’s right arm, raised triumphantly aloft. He was grasping what appeared to be an old boot, and with this he scrambled up the bank and tumbled panting on the grass. He too was wearing a bathing-slip, and he too was coated in mud. But one day, Appleby saw, he was going to be a beautifully proportioned youth. The prison-house of Wimbledon, in fact, lay ineluctably in front of him. He would vault the net to shake hands with his defeated foe. He would duck his head at royalty as he left the Centre court. He would make awkward and modest remarks to television interviewers thereafter. But at the moment he was a boy, and diving for treasure.

‘Hullo,’ Appleby said cheerfully. ‘Found anything much as yet?’

‘Everything’s over here.’ It was Digby who replied, since Eugene lacked the breath with which to do so. Perhaps in the absence of his robust parents, Digby was quietly polite and wholly composed. ‘It’s not much so far, but we think it rather hopeful.’

The treasure-trove to date was ranged neatly on a bathing-towel. There was a dead fish. There was a horseshoe – which Digby picked up and exhibited with gravity, remarking that it might do quite well second-hand. There were several other iron objects of indeterminate shape. Eugene, coming up a little apprehensively, was of the opinion that these had undoubtedly formed part of the treasure-chest itself. There were some bottles, which seemed extremely old, and might therefore be sold to a museum. There was a whistle, which unfortunately didn’t look as if it could antedate the police force or the Boy Scout movement, and into which Digby blew vigorously but with an inaudible result. There was a single coin which Sandra was cleaning vigorously. When it was handed to Appleby, he was a good deal impressed to find that it was an Elizabethan shilling-piece.

‘That’s certainly a find,’ he said. ‘Really enough for one night, don’t you think? And deep-sea divers never work more than rather short spells. And here’s Rasselas come to take you back to the house.’

It was true that Rasselas had arrived. The normally stately creature, indeed, had come racing down the drive at high speed. Presumably he had deserted the Chief Constable and his band – whose torches could now be clearly seen, moving about among the castle ruins.

‘We’d better let them know that all’s well,’ Wilfred Osborne suggested. ‘I’ll walk over at once.’

‘A good idea,’ Appleby said. ‘And perhaps Judith will go back to the house with the explorers and Rasselas. More treasure-hunting tomorrow, perhaps. I’d like to see Eugene and Digby diving. They must be better than some older boys I know. Allington and I will perhaps just have a final look round.’

These dispositions were put in train at once – the more readily because the children, who had no doubt felt certain misgivings upon the irruption of the grown-up world, had been treated as rational beings, and were disposed to behave rationally as a result. Appleby and Allington, left alone in the darkness, were both silent for a few moments.

‘We’ll take the night’s catch up to the house with us,’ Appleby said presently. ‘It has its interest.’

‘I hardly think we need take the fish. But the Elizabethan coin is curious, I agree.’

‘One would expect a few scattered coins to be left down there on the bed of the lake. But to retrieve one like that was a remarkable feat. I really do think rather well of those boys.’ Appleby was silent again, gazing up the drive at the lighted terrace in the distance. ‘It’s so simple,’ he said quietly. ‘So absolutely simple. Once you see it. Twelve o’clock and two o’clock.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t follow you.’

‘It’s how we used to be taught to locate objects. Don’t you remember? In the OTC, for instance. Straight up there is the house, and we’ll call it twelve o’clock. So the castle – where they’re still fooling around with their torches, you notice – is as near two o’clock as makes no difference. Slantwise across the lake.’

‘I take it, Appleby, you’re claiming to know just what happened on the night Martin died?’

‘Yes – and I’m only following in your footsteps. You’ve been making the same claim yourself. And announcing that you’re going to keep mum about it. Well, I’m afraid the truth is going to be made known.’

‘It must be?’

‘Of course it must.’

‘I am so sorry. I really do regret it very much. I feel terribly to blame.’ As he made these strange remarks, Allington produced a cigarette-case, opened it, and extended it to Appleby. ‘Won’t you smoke?’ he said. ‘It will keep the midges away. And it’s a mild night. We might talk this out quietly – don’t you think? – before returning to the house.’

‘Very well,’ Appleby said, and took a cigarette. ‘We’ll talk it out.’

Gate One glimmered on its bank. Appleby walked over and sat down on it. He could, he felt, afford to relax. The entire mysterious affair was now elucidated. Nothing further of an unexpected sort could happen.

‘You killed my nephew,’ Owain Allington said.

There was a moment’s blank silence. The night was very still – as still as the night had been when Appleby had sat in Allington’s library, constrained by an excessive hospitality to stop rather longer than he had wanted to. No owls. No frogs. Not a sound.

‘Did I kill Knockdown and Scrape as well?’ Appleby asked. He was wondering whether the madman standing in front of him carried a concealed weapon. Short of that, he could tackle him easily enough.

‘Of course not. Knockdown’s death was a matter of sheer misadventure befalling an intruder. We have established that. Poor Scrape was thrown off his balance by what had happened, and by his exciting afternoon, and by the extravagant notions that had been gaining on him. He simply drowned himself – hitting his head on something as he went down.’

‘So I killed only Martin Allington. It wasn’t your first idea, I’d remind you again. There was that business about spies and international conspiracy. Perhaps that was just to protect me?’

‘Of course. I was determined not to embarrass a guest.’

‘I see.’ Appleby took a long breath. ‘Even although he was a murderer?’

‘You know very well that there is no question of murder. I simply implicated you in a fatal prank. Not even that, indeed. It wasn’t unreasonable that I should show you the
son et lumière
. It was idle – nothing more than idle – to invite you to have a go.’

‘I remember the words,’ Appleby said.

‘Well, you understand what happened. I knew that you understood what happened, as soon as you said that about twelve o’clock and two o’clock.’ Allington turned and pointed. ‘Swing into this drive in the dark, and you expect to see the lights on the terrace straight ahead of you. Twelve o’clock. Anybody accustomed to arrive by night would have that expectation. But suppose those lights had just gone out, and an almost identical line of lights had sprung up before the castle. Two o’clock. Instinctively, and for a fatal fraction of time, you would steer for that. And it’s what took poor Martin into the lake. Appleby, I repeat that I really do regret it very much. I hate your having the consciousness of such a thing on your hands – utterly innocent though it was.’

‘I’m very much obliged to you.’ Appleby’s tone was grim. ‘I certainly flicked a switch – and the effect was to send the lights on the terrace leap-frogging over the lake and in front of the castle. Would you care to offer any estimate of the length of time they stayed like that?’

‘Oh, quite some time.’

‘I think not. In no time we had the effect of the castle burning. No one would steer a car at
that
.’

‘It is scarcely material. The coincidence was a dreadful one, in any case. It may have been in the split second that you flicked that switch that Martin swung into the drive.’

‘It was nothing of the sort.’ Appleby got to his feet. During the next few minutes, he judged, he might be safer that way. ‘It was between fifteen and twenty minutes earlier.’

‘You have a freakish streak to you,’ Appleby said, ‘as well as an alarmingly criminal one. You are also a bit of a showman, as you blandly told me yourself. As a practical physicist, of course, you are superannuated. But – and you told me this too – you still get a great deal of fun out of quite small projects. You called the
son et lumière
“all that rot” – but added that you took an active part in rigging it up. The words are fair enough.’

‘I’m not sure,’ Allington said, ‘that this discussion, my dear Appleby, isn’t taking an injudicious turn.’

‘Perhaps it is. But I don’t recommend too abrupt an end to it.’ Appleby had observed in Allington a disposition to let his right hand hover over a pocket. ‘You can’t accidentally drown
me
, you know. And anything else wouldn’t be of much use to you. May I go on?’

‘Go on.’

‘You were being steadily blackmailed by your disagreeable nephew. He knew something quite fatal about that scandal you believed you had escaped so successfully. He forced you to make him your heir. I rather think he knew about the treasure, and had extorted his share of that too. It is no doubt the reason why you decided he was to perish where he did – dead on the site of it. The difficulty you faced was that there is no electricity down at this end of the drive. Running a system of hidden wires so far would have been much too risky. But up at the house and castle the situation was quite different. Amid all the litter of the
son et lumière
, you could do pretty well anything you pleased – and clear away all trace of it again in an hour or so. I don’t know how you made the acquaintance of Knockdown.’