Appleby's End (29 page)

“Heyhoe's mother became – or thought she became – a Mrs Grope. But I am afraid we shall find that Ranulph Raven – whether through mere indiscretion or from some eccentric delight in the possible consequences that might result long after – had contracted a previous legal marriage with her. And this means that Heyhoe was your father's only legitimate child. When you remember, therefore, that this same old Mrs Grope met her death some little time ago in a manner which, although in fact purely accidental, could well be given a sinister interpretation, you will see what danger Everard was in when he fell to playing tricks with Heyhoe's body. But that's not all.”

“Not all!” Everard Raven had let his cigar go out and had given himself over to frank dismay.

“Most unfortunately not. For just as Heyhoe was
your father's
legitimate son, so is the half-wit boy whom you involved in your Tiffin Place plan
Heyhoe's
legitimate son. For before the woman who is now known as Hannah Hoobin went through a form of marriage with her present reputed husband she had married Heyhoe. Or at least it seems probable that it was so.”

“Heyhoe certainly lived with her.” It was Robert Raven who spoke. “I don't remember quite when, but he was already an elderly man. He had left us for a while, and we were rather doubtful about taking him back. But are not all these family circumstances, as you called them, purely conjectural?”

Appleby nodded. “As far as I am concerned they are so. But from the very vigorous diversionary action which Mr Smith has thought it expedient to take this afternoon and evening I think he probably possesses some certainty in the matter – enough to have convinced him that your elaborate prank was in dire danger of the most dreadful misinterpretation.”

“That was precisely the position.” Mr Smith was affectionately pulling Hodge's tail. “But before I explain it I should like to know, Mr Appleby, how you came so readily to distinguish my part in the affair?”

Appleby laughed. “I was never in any doubt about its being yourself who made away with Mrs Ulstrup's cake. For, as it happened, I was aware of the association of ideas which suddenly prompted you to feel that an immediate outbreak of witchcraft and sorcery in the district would afford a desirable diversion from your friends' affairs. You had seen the possible case against them; you were wondering what could be done; and you happened to mention – though in another connection – the Tchambuli.”

“To be sure!”

“They are a culture much given to sorcery – and a few seconds later Mrs Ulstrup's cake had gone. Clearly it was the Tchambuli who had put the idea into your head. And, equally clearly, if the thing were to be done effectively, Mrs Ulstrup's cake must be only the beginning of a swift and concentrated campaign.”

“I take some credit for the speed with which it developed. But now I must explain that for a long time I have known that the old man, Heyhoe, had been married to Mrs Hoobin, and that the boy was their legitimate child. The marriage took place some seventeen years ago at Yatter. On the possible marriage of your father to the woman who became Mrs Grope I possess no certainty. I have, however, picked up a story to the effect that Mrs Grope when a young woman ran away with a gentleman to Scotland. And so I fear that the marriage is only too likely. Having this information, I very readily came to see the extreme danger of the position. I knew very well that it was incredible that any of you should commit homicide; at the same time I saw the conclusion to which the police might very readily come. A little clouding of the issue, I thought, might give us time to see where we were. As it happens, my intervention was scarcely necessary as far as the police investigation was concerned, since Mr Appleby had ample ability not only to arrive at the true state of affairs but to carry his local colleague a good distance beyond! But it is something, perhaps, to have headed off the newspapers successfully. Very soon your family affairs will be completely forgotten, and can be quietly adjusted in whatever fashion is proper.”

“Adjusted?” Everard Raven was frowning into the fire. “If I understand these revelations aright, they mean that young Hoobin is the rightful owner of Dream.”

“Would that not depend upon the terms of your father's will?”

Decisively – a thing rare with him – Everard shook his head. “We must not shuffle. The legitimate heir male has inherited here since the sixteenth century. He must continue to do so, even if there is little left to inherit. Both Luke and Robert will agree with me.” Everard paused. “Good heavens!” he said. “Two generations of rightful owners excluded. It's exactly like one of our father's romances. John, didn't somebody say something about poetic justice?”

“It is certainly rather striking. The machinery you set in motion in order to make something out of Ranulph is operating to deprive you of the little he actually left you.”

“This Hannah Hoobin's boy.” Judith broke a long silence. “What's he like? John, you've seen him.”

Appleby smiled. “I should call him perfectly charming. Is he not a Raven, after all?”

Mr Smith, who had been accommodated with a second rummer of brandy, nodded over it approvingly. “Capital,” he said. “How much in this degenerate century one relishes a compliment well turned.”

“Capital,” repeated Mark. “The Ravens – or some of them – are charming. But, equally, the Ravens – and all of them – are broke. Indeed, they are about to be turned out into the snow. John, I don't suppose you happen to be wealthy?”

“I can buy Judith her barn.”

Mark sighed. “But at least you are efficient – extremely so. Everard and you together will no doubt do the best you can for us all. I suggest a small villa in some provincial town, with an attic that can be turned into a scriptorium.”

“I should like,” said Luke, “to be let take away Theodore's Genius guarding the Secret of the Tomb.”

“I hope,” said Judith, “that the charming boy won't greatly mind what I've done to some of Theodore's marbles.”

“We must ask the Farmers,” said Robert, “to return the pig and the cow and the dog and the waxwork. Though explanations will be a trifle difficult.”

“The other day,” said Everard, “I had a letter asking me if I would undertake a Dictionary of Universal Biography in forty volumes. I had better write at once and accept.”

“I understand,” said Clarissa, “that all this turns upon the supposed marriages of Ranulph and of the man Heyhoe?”

Mr Smith nodded. “That is so.”

“Then we may desist from this nonsensical talk and go to bed.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Except Judith and – um – John. They may remain chatting by the fire. I suggest that they consider taking the Hall farm. That will be most convenient, I think. On Sundays we will expect them to take luncheon with us at Dream. I must remember to tell Rainbird.”

“Clarissa,” said Everard gently, “possibly you are overtired. I suggest–”

“I understood you to say” – Clarissa had turned, unheeding, to Mr Smith – “that the man Heyhoe had married the woman now called Mrs Hoobin some seventeen years ago?”

“There can be no doubt of it.”

“There can be every doubt, sir. No legal marriage can then have taken place.”

“May I ask why?”

“Mr Smith, I fear that you may. Forty-one years ago tomorrow I married the man Heyhoe myself. It is true that I had reason to think better of it a few days later, and paid him to be silent. But Everard, Robert, Luke – you need not stare so.” And Clarissa tilted her chin and looked at Appleby. “Was he not a Raven, after all?”

 

 

 

John Appleby first appears in
Death at the President's Lodging
, by which time he has risen to the rank of Inspector in the police force. A cerebral detective, with ready wit, charm and good manners, he rose from humble origins to being educated at 'St Anthony's College', Oxford, prior to joining the police as an ordinary constable.

Having decided to take early retirement just after World War II, he nonetheless continued his police career at a later stage and is subsequently appointed an Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police at Scotland Yard, where his crime solving talents are put to good use, despite the lofty administrative position. Final retirement from the police force (as Commissioner and Sir John Appleby) does not, however, diminish Appleby's taste for solving crime and he continues to be active,
Appleby and the Ospreys
marking his final appearance in the late 1980's.

In
Appleby's End
he meets Judith Raven, whom he marries and who has an involvement in many subsequent cases, as does their son Bobby and other members of his family.

 

 

 

These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels