Appleby File (4 page)

‘
Dinner is served!
’

‘I shall be delighted to have coffee in the gallery,’ Mrs Strickland said as she re-entered it. ‘I don’t know a more charming room. But I make one condition – that those tiresome bows and arrows be put away. Judith, you agree?’

‘I think I do. If the men find more talk with us boring, they can go away and play billiards.’

‘Prunella, dear, you are hostess.’ Mrs Strickland spoke a shade sharply. ‘The onus is on you.’

‘But of course!’ Robert’s wife had walked into the room in an abstraction. Now she turned round with a start. ‘Only you needn’t be anxious, Molly. There’s never any archery after dinner. Jasper would as soon think to settle down to talk about money. Everything has been put in the ascham.’

‘The what, dear?’ The three women were alone, and Mrs Strickland was helping herself to coffee.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Prunella had again started out of inattention. ‘The ascham is the name given to the cupboard where bows and things are kept. There it is.’ She indicated a tall and beautiful piece of furniture, perhaps Elizabethan in period, which stood against the wall. ‘I think it must be named after some famous archer.’

‘Roger Ascham,’ Judith said, a shade instructively. ‘He wrote a book called
Toxophilus
. He was a schoolmaster.’

‘I am sure he was an excessively dreary person.’ Mrs Strickland was studying a row of bottles. ‘Why, in bachelor establishments, are women of unblemished reputation invariably confronted with
Crème de Menthe
? Never mind. There’s a perfectly respectable brandy too.’

‘I am sure there is.’ Prunella spoke rather dryly. ‘And won’t you have a cigar?’

‘Only at home, dear. That has always been my rule.’

Judith, too, found herself some brandy. So far, the evening had not been a success, and it appeared unlikely that it would perk up now. Dinner, indeed, had been so constrained an affair that the tactful thing would probably be an acknowledgement of the fact, made upon a whimsical note.

‘John and I did our best,’ she said. ‘But we were foreign bodies, I suppose. It all
didn’t
seem to mix terribly well.’

‘One must blame that really
sombre
Mr Jolly,’ Mrs Strickland said. ‘He disappointed me. One so seldom has an opportunity of meeting that sort of person – unless one goes canvassing at election-time, or something of that kind. But he
quite
refused to be drawn out.’

‘I’m afraid Robert was rather silent.’ Prunella was gazing into her untasted cup of coffee. ‘But he has been depressed ever since he…he resigned his commission. Jasper is very good–’

‘One can see that they are devoted to each other,’ Judith said.

‘Yes – Jasper wants Robert to take over the running of the estate. I hope he will. It would be so much better than…than simply hanging around.’

There was an awkward silence, resolutely broken by Mrs Strickland.

‘Jasper did his best with us – at dinner, I mean. He can talk so well about the history of Gore. Of course, I’ve heard parts of it before. But he told us some things that were quite new. About the ghost that walks in this gallery. I’m sure I never heard of that. Do you think it goes about pierced by an arrow? I wouldn’t be at all surprised. And the superstition about the well at midnight–’

‘There’s a superstition about the well?’ Judith asked.

‘Yes. Didn’t you hear? And I’m quite sure that I wouldn’t care – But here are the men. I had a notion they wouldn’t linger very long.’

‘A very good dinner,’ General Strickland said to Appleby. The two men were sitting in a corner of the gallery apart. ‘A very good dinner, indeed.’

‘It might have been a shade more lively, I thought.’

‘Lively? I don’t believe in dinners being lively. Not with a Margaux like that. Chatter spoils one’s concentration, if you ask me.’

‘Margaux, was it? Judith said it tasted rather like cowslip wine.’

‘My dear boy, she was perfectly right. She always is. That’s the precise description for the bouquet of Margaux. Ever been to the Château?’ Strickland paused to sniff at his brandy. ‘I must tell you, one day, of the week I spent there in ‘17. Absolutely amazing. Not that the place is anything much to look at. Not a patch on Gore. Built by some fellow called Lacolonilla about a hundred years ago, and might be round the corner from my own house in Regent’s Park… How does Gore strike you, by the way?’

‘It’s an impressive place – particularly to tumble into out of the snow. And perhaps a shade oppressive, as well.’

‘Never struck me that way. But then I’ve known it, you see, man and boy… Bit of a cloud over it at the moment, eh?’

‘So I feel. But Judith and I are unbidden guests, you know. I told her, earlier this evening, that curiosity isn’t on.’

‘And she said that, with you, it’s never off?’

‘Well, as a matter of fact, she did.’ Appleby paused to light a cigar. ‘But, Strickland – do you know? – I’m not sure I wouldn’t like any gossip there is. I’ve a notion there’s something…well, building up. Any idea what I mean?’

General Strickland looked about him cautiously. But the two men were unobserved – except by the ancestral Darien-Gore portraits on the walls.

‘That fellow Charles Trevor seems deucedly uneasy,’ he said. ‘And what’s he doing here, anyway? Knows his spoons and forks, and all that. In fact, he was at school with Jasper. But not our sort. Not our sort, at all.’

‘I suppose not.’ Appleby was amused by this obscure social judgement. ‘But I imagine he’s more our sort than poor Mr Jolly.’

‘Well, that’s different. Very decent, unassuming chap, no doubt. Some sort of counter-jumper or motor-salesman, eh? Jasper didn’t want to bother the servants with him.’

‘So I’ve gathered – if it was Jasper. I rather think it may have been Robert. There’s a faint conflict of evidence on the point.’

‘Well, it comes to the same thing, my dear boy. The brothers are tremendously thick. And, since Robert and Prunella came to live here–’

‘Why did they come?’

‘Ah – that’s telling.’

‘I know.’

‘Appleby, you really feel there’s something…well,
happening
in this place?’

‘Happening, or going to happen. Don’t you?’

‘That could be stopped?’

‘Well, not by me. I just don’t know enough.’ Appleby paused to look into his brandy glass. ‘Were you going to tell me about Robert?’

‘My dear chap,
I
don’t know. Nobody does – or wants to, I should hope. It looked damnably ugly for a time. And then it ended on what you might call a minor note.’

‘Ended? What ended?’

‘Robert’s career, I suppose one has to say. He left the army. And the thing dropped.’

‘The thing? What thing?’

‘God knows, something there turned out not to be sufficient evidence about, I imagine.’ General Strickland broke off, and again looked about him. This time, it was at the line of portraits silent on the wall. ‘A poor show of some sort. Hard on a decent family, eh? Not much wrong with them since the Crusades, and all that.’

‘You’re a romantic at heart, Strickland. And noblesse oblige is all very well, no doubt.’ Appleby was speaking seriously. ‘But that particular sense of obligation is an open invitation to pride.’

‘And pride?’

‘Is an open invitation to the devil.’

‘Here’s Jasper coming down the gallery. He
looks
proud, I’m bound to admit. But he’s ageing, too. It’s just struck me. Still, he’s kept his form. A great athlete, you know, as a young man. But not the sort that falls into a flabby middle-age… I think he’s coming over to talk to you. I must go and have another word with your wife. Astonishing thing, you two turning up here like that. Quite astonishing.’

‘Delightful that you turned out to know the Stricklands,’ Jasper Darien-Gore said. ‘Won’t you and your wife treat it as an inducement to stay on for a day or two?’

‘It’s most hospitable of you, but I’m afraid we can’t.’ Appleby felt no reason to suppose that Darien-Gore had spoken other than merely by way of civility. There was, indeed, something faintly distraught in his manner which emphasized the point. ‘As a matter of fact, we must try to get away fairly early.’ Appleby hesitated, and then took a plunge. ‘Unless, that is, I can be useful in any way.’ He waited for a response, but none came. Darien-Gore was looking at him with a frozen and conventional smile. He simply mightn’t have heard. Having begun, however, Appleby went on. ‘You’ll forgive me if I’m talking nonsense. But it has just occurred to me that in that fellow Jolly you may find yourself rather far from entertaining an angel unawares. And I happen to know–’

‘Jolly?’ Darien-Gore repeated the name quite vaguely. ‘An odd chap, I agree. But he has been getting on quite well with Robert. In fact, they’ve been making some kind of wager – I’ve no idea about what.’

‘I don’t think I’d be inclined to lay any wager with Jolly. Winning and losing might prove equally expensive.’

‘And he says that he must try to get away quite early, too. Ah, here he is.’

This was not wholly accurate. Jolly had been standing some little way across the gallery, and without showing any disposition to approach. But Jasper had made a gesture which constrained him to come forward.

‘Mr Jolly,’ he said, ‘–you must really leave us in the morning, if your car can be got away? It would be pleasant if you could stay a little longer.’ As he produced this further civility, Jasper gave Appleby a hard smile. ‘And, of course–’ He broke off. ‘Ah – thank you, Frape.’

Frape’s appearance was with a large silver tray, upon which he was carrying round a whisky decanter, glasses, ice and a syphon. The Darien-Gores, it was to be supposed, kept fairly early hours. Frape was looking particularly wooden. He had presumably overheard his employer’s latest essay in hospitality.

‘Very much obliged,’ Jolly said. ‘But fast and far will be my motto in the morning. All having gone well, that’s to say.’ He gave a laugh which was at once insolent and apprehensive. ‘Yes, all having gone well.’ He looked indecisively at the tray – and at this moment Robert Darien-Gore came up. Silently, he poured a stiff drink, added a splash of soda-water, and handed the glass to Jolly. Jolly, who already seemed slightly drunk, gulped, hesitated, gulped again. The two brothers watched him fixedly. He returned the glass, only half-emptied, to the tray, and waved Frape away. Frape’s eyes met Appleby’s for a moment, and then he moved silently off.

‘I know just when I’ve been given enough,’ Jolly said. ‘And it has been the secret of my success.’ He turned to Appleby, and gave him a look of startling contempt. ‘Pleasant to meet people one has heard about,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that right, Sir John?’

‘Decidedly. And I’m glad, Mr Jolly, that I’ve been here to meet you tonight.’

‘I know, you see, just how much I can take.’ Jolly pointed at Appleby’s glass, as if further to explain this remark. ‘That, and fast and far, are the secrets of my success.’

‘Come and have a final word with my wife, Mr Jolly.’ Quite firmly, Appleby took Jolly by the elbow and led him away – leaving the Darien-Gores looking at each other silently. But Appleby took no more than a few paces towards Judith. ‘My man,’ he said, ‘let me give you a word of advice. Stick, on this occasion, to fast and far. And make it quite clear that you have forgotten the other part of your secret of success.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I’m talking about life and death. Good night.’

‘Good night, madam…good night, sir…good night, my lady.’ Frape, standing at one of the doors of the long gallery, responded to such salutations as he was offered while the company dispersed. His employer and his employer’s brother were the last to leave the gallery; to each of the Darien-Gores, as he very slightly bowed, he gave a grave, straight look. Jasper hesitated when at the head of the staircase, half-turned as if about to speak, thought better of it, and moved on. Robert had already vanished; in a moment Jasper’s shoulders – squarely held – and then his head vanished too. Frape closed the door behind him, turned, and looked down the long gallery. From its far end the archery target regarded him like a staring and sleepless eye. He moved down the gallery, set glasses on a tray, placed a guard carefully before the great fireplace, turned off the lights, so that it was now by the flicker of firelight that he was lit, paused to look thoughtfully at the line of portraits on the wall. He went over to the ascham and saw that it was locked. He moved to a window, drew back a curtain, and stood immobile before the wintry scene. Small clouds were drifting across a high, full moon, so that pale light and near-blackness washed alternately over the landscape. To his left, and from very high up, he had an oblique view of the inner bailey; this came into full light for a moment, revealing the well, still amid its unbroken carpet of snow.

Frape remained motionless, with the firelight flickering behind him.

‘Snubbed,’ Appleby said.

‘Never mind, darling. This is a most comfortable bed. And do hurry up. I’m extremely sleepy.’ Judith put down the book she had been reading. ‘You mean you scrapped that business about having a social duty to discover nothing?’

‘More or less.’ Appleby took off his black tie and tossed it on the dressing-table. ‘At least, I decided that I ought to offer our host some sort of warning about Jolly. What I was after was a little candour before trouble blows up.’

‘What sort of trouble?’

‘Unfortunately, I can’t take more than a guess at it. If I could do more, it might be possible to act. Anyway, our friend Jasper refused to play. So did Jolly.’

‘Jolly! You talked to him?’

‘He’s up to mischief, and I had a shot at scaring him off. It didn’t work. You’d take him to be rather an apprehensive little rat, but in fact he has a nerve. It amuses him to be operating – and he certainly is operating – right under my nose.’

‘He’s gathered who you are?’

‘Quite clearly he has. But I don’t seem to carry around with me much of the terror of the law.’