Read Online A Family Affair by Michael Innes - Free Book Online Page B

evident that Mr Braunkopf felt this keenly. However laudable was his good friend’s desire to give pleasure to an ageing uncle, it was painful to see one of Sir John’s scrupulous refinement actually brought into the presence of this lascivious spectacle. It was not even as if it were the authentic work of Giulio Romano, and therefore contemplatable in the saving consciousness that it was worth a lot of money. So anxious was Mr Braunkopf to obviate the flaw in taste and decorum which had produced this confrontation that he even – after a two-minute session with the canvas – suggested to Appleby immediate adjournment to another room in order to enjoy the modest pleasure of a glass of champagne.
    It had taken Appleby less than these two minutes, however, to realize that he was now experiencing – as it were in reverse – what had befallen Braunkopf on the occasion of his agonizing discovery. Braunkopf had thought to see an original painting and become aware that he was seeing a copy. Appleby had thought to see a copy and was suddenly convinced that he was seeing an original.
    ‘I’ll give you two hundred guineas for it,’ he said.
    ‘But, goot Sir John, it is not the reasonables!’ It was patent that Mr Braunkopf’s agony was extreme.
    ‘Come, come, Braunkopf. Except as a curiosity, the thing has no value at all. One can have pretty well any picture in the National Gallery copied for fifty pounds. To refuse four times that amount for this is very odd indeed.’
    ‘It has what we call the association interest, Sir John. An unfortunate episode in the history of the Da Vinci. I should have the unhappiness in parting from it.’
    ‘You mean you have a sentimental regard for it? But of course you don’t.’ Appleby took three brisk steps forward, and suddenly reversed the painting on the easel upon which Braunkopf had reluctantly placed it. What was revealed was the back of a very ancient canvas indeed. ‘My dear Braunkopf, you really weren’t careful enough. You took it into your head that you had been cheated into accepting a copy. But it was the real thing, safely back again. And here it is.’
    There was a moment’s silence, while the unfortunate Braunkopf digested these ironical observations. Then, if he did not positively rise to the occasion, he at least accommodated himself to it.
    ‘Sir John,’ he said with dignity, ‘I must make you the confidences.’

 
     
6
     
    ‘It was authentink criminous fraud,’ Braunkopf presently resumed. He had had the hardihood to withdraw from his sanctum for a couple of minutes, and return with two glasses and a half-bottle of champagne. Appleby, who was able to tell himself that he was in no sense a police officer on duty, accepted this refreshment without demur. The ritual production of wine and cigars upon important occasions was one of the proprieties of Braunkopf’s world, and there would be no advantage in turning it down. And Braunkopf, thus indulged, solemnly raised his glass. ‘Sir John,’ he said, ‘it is hip-hip hurrah three cheers, yes?’
    ‘Well, yes – although I believe that, as a toast, it is commonly contracted to “cheers”. Cheers, Braunkopf.’ Appleby let some moments decently pass before adding firmly: ‘You are asserting that the story you told at Scotland Yard was true?’
    ‘But of courses, Sir John!’ Always a man of delicate feeling, Braunkopf had plainly struggled not to let too much of surprise and reproach sound in this response. ‘Only I did not quite give credences that this low immoral picture was truly in the possession of anonymous nobility gentry like for instance my goot freunds Sir John and Lady Abbleby the Duke of Horton the Duke of Nesfield KG other my goot freunds patrons the artisocracy. It would be aspersious – yes? – to suppose any members the British artisocracy have dealings feelthy peectures.’
    ‘Your sentiments do you great honour. What you are saying is that you didn’t believe this story of a