Read Online A Night of Errors by Michael Innes - Free Book Online Page A

(for he investigated this) had four fingers and a thumb on each hand. Nevertheless, and like any bibulous person in a vulgar print –
    And then Mr Greengrave wondered. Did not this plain betrayal by the senses cast very substantial doubt upon the reliability of that earlier and purely inward vision?
    At least it would be necessary to go carefully. In every sense to go carefully, thought Mr Greengrave. And he drove on in third gear.
     

 
     
4
    There was silence among the three ladies in the drawing-room. It had lasted for some time. Lucy played patience, her head bent as if she were listening to a whispered message from the cards. Mrs Gollifer was lost in reverie. Lady Dromio stirred uneasily, rose and walked to the window. ‘It must be put an end to somehow,’ she said.
    Mrs Gollifer laughed. Beneath the standard lamp where she sat she looked old and ill. ‘The evening?’ she asked. ‘It is true that I must certainly be getting home.’
    ‘Perhaps Lucy would like the drive and a tramp home by moonlight. It is quite her sort of thing.’ Lady Dromio had tossed her embroidery into a corner, much as if whatever purpose it had served was over. ‘Lucy, would you care–?’
    ‘It is so complicated.’ Lucy spoke quietly, but both ladies turned to her at once. They looked hopeful, relieved.
    ‘So many points to consider. One doesn’t know where to begin.’
    Lady Dromio nodded. ‘If only Oliver–’
    ‘For instance, here are two five of Spades, and I know what is under each.’
    Mrs Gollifer sank back in her chair. Lady Dromio uttered a sound which might have been merely exasperation, or might have been desperation of a very different quality. Lucy glanced briefly at each of them in turn. Her face was pale and expressionless. ‘I wonder why Sebastian didn’t come in,’ she said. ‘Possibly he might be able to help.’
    Lady Dromio turned round. ‘Certainly not!’
    ‘Since he is a capital bridge player and must have an eye for cards in general.’
    ‘Really, Lucy, this is most–’
    ‘Unfilial, mama? Queen on King and here is the Knave.’
    Lady Dromio was silent. She may have been reflecting on the sundry small ways in which she had found an obscure nervous release in plaguing her adopted daughter in former years. But now she turned back to the window and with an agitated gesture threw it open. ‘It is insufferably close tonight. There must be a storm coming.’
    ‘Assuredly there is that.’ And Lucy nodded. ‘It is the wind and the rain for all of us, I am afraid. As for Oliver’ – she paused – ‘I think it is likely that I shall kill him.’
    ‘Lucy, dear, that is idle and horrible talk.’
    ‘It sounds silly, doesn’t it? Nevertheless that is what I think I shall do. To – to be stained so.’
    There was something in her voice that stirred Mrs Gollifer. ‘Drive home with me,’ she said. ‘I can rouse Evans and send you back in the car. Or – or you might stop the night.’
    Lucy was silent. But she had abandoned her cards and was slowly, petal by petal, tearing and shredding a rose which she had worn in her bosom. The clock ticked. Lucy glanced down at her hands. ‘A rose is a rose,’ she said. ‘A rose is a rose is a rose.’ She looked with the faintest of smiles at Lady Dromio, who appeared alarmed at this mysterious incantation. ‘Only a poem,’ she said. And there was silence again.
    ‘It isn’t quite dark yet.’ Lady Dromio spoke matter-of-factly, as if determined that something without an inner meaning should be said. ‘And I think I have seen Sebastian in the garden. Probably he is prowling with a cigar. I shall go and take a turn with him. There is nothing like a cigar in a garden at night.’ With nervous haste, or with an odd resolution, she stepped out to the terrace and disappeared.
    Lucy looked first at Mrs Gollifer and then at the clock, which stood at ten forty-five. ‘It is funny,’ she said, ‘but there really seems nothing to say.’
    ‘Then let us not