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Authors: Michael Innes
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remained standing, surveyed his domain with satisfaction.
‘Nowadays,’ he said, ‘I have to leave the silver to the women. But I continue, of course, to look after the decanters, and most of the better crystal. Will you take a glass of Madeira?’
‘Most willingly,’ Appleby said.
Bagot poured a glass of Madeira, but without venturing to pour another for himself. He did, however, sit down.
‘There will be speculation,’ he said. ‘And gossip. And – I fear – scandal.’
‘I don’t know about scandal. But speculation and gossip are sure starters in an affair like this. Have you any theory about it all, Mr Bagot?’
‘Not a theory, Sir John. It would be somewhat presumptuous to have exactly that. And idea or two: no more.’
‘That’s much my own present position, Mr Bagot. But I’d like to hear what your ideas are about this murder.’
‘Are you not at once taking something for granted, Sir John? It’s my principal idea that there was no murder.’
‘You interest me very much. Do you feel, perhaps, that Lord Osprey committed a suicide?’
‘Not that either.’
‘Dear me!’ Appleby was momentarily nonplussed by this. ‘I’m not at all clear what is left.’
‘Accident. Pure accident. And no discredit reflected on anyone. Which is extremely important, is it not?’
‘The truth’s what is extremely important. We mustn’t think to scramble away from it. But go on.’
‘It appears that when his lordship’s body was discovered by a housemaid early this morning, it was clad in pyjamas and a dressing-gown. He had gone to bed, one must suppose, but had continued to be worried about the intruder earlier in the evening. Lord Osprey was a nervous man – Very nervous, indeed.’
‘I’d hardly have suspected it.’ Appleby looked curiously at Bagot. ‘But continue.’
‘He may have gone to sleep, and come awake, believing he had heard some disturbance in the house. But he was also, you must understand, a man of considerable courage. He at once made his way to the library, the focus of the earlier alarm. He may have believed that somebody was attempting to break in through the French window. So he armed himself.’
‘Armed himself! However could he do that?’
‘With some sort of dagger, Sir John, from those abundant trophies on the wall.’
‘You have a point there, Mr Bagot.’
‘Have you noticed the floor, Sir John?’
‘Yes, I have. Noticing things is a habit of mine.’
‘Parquetry, Sir John. And with a number of doubtless very valuable oriental rugs. The footing is treacherous, sir.’
‘Is it, indeed? People have been known to tumble about on it?’
‘His lordship, at least, must have tumbled. And to tragic effect, Sir John. His slip, unhappily, was fatal to him.’
‘But, Mr Bagot, if all this were true, surely the weapon would have been found beside the body?’
‘It would have occurred to his lordship that as things stood – or rather, lay – there must have been a danger of his being thought to have committed suicide. And that, in an English nobleman, would be widely regarded as disgraceful.’
‘It’s disgraceful to make away with oneself?’
‘In the circle in which his lordship moved, decidedly so. So he managed to stagger to the wall and replace the weapon.’
‘So that it would be supposed he had been murdered – and there’s nothing disgraceful about that?’
‘Precisely so, Sir John.’
‘But, Mr Bagot, if – following this line of yours – somebody had the misfortune to be charged with the murder, and convicted, would there be anything unfortunate and disgraceful about that?’
‘The question is hypothetical, Sir John. But I think a coroner’s jury will bring in what is called an open verdict. Many of its members, after all, will be tenants or employees about the estate.’
It had by this time become clear to Appleby that Bagot was unlikely to be of much help on what might be called the speculative side of the Clusters affair.
‘Nowadays,’ he said, ‘I have to leave the silver to the women. But I continue, of course, to look after the decanters, and most of the better crystal. Will you take a glass of Madeira?’
‘Most willingly,’ Appleby said.
Bagot poured a glass of Madeira, but without venturing to pour another for himself. He did, however, sit down.
‘There will be speculation,’ he said. ‘And gossip. And – I fear – scandal.’
‘I don’t know about scandal. But speculation and gossip are sure starters in an affair like this. Have you any theory about it all, Mr Bagot?’
‘Not a theory, Sir John. It would be somewhat presumptuous to have exactly that. And idea or two: no more.’
‘That’s much my own present position, Mr Bagot. But I’d like to hear what your ideas are about this murder.’
‘Are you not at once taking something for granted, Sir John? It’s my principal idea that there was no murder.’
‘You interest me very much. Do you feel, perhaps, that Lord Osprey committed a suicide?’
‘Not that either.’
‘Dear me!’ Appleby was momentarily nonplussed by this. ‘I’m not at all clear what is left.’
‘Accident. Pure accident. And no discredit reflected on anyone. Which is extremely important, is it not?’
‘The truth’s what is extremely important. We mustn’t think to scramble away from it. But go on.’
‘It appears that when his lordship’s body was discovered by a housemaid early this morning, it was clad in pyjamas and a dressing-gown. He had gone to bed, one must suppose, but had continued to be worried about the intruder earlier in the evening. Lord Osprey was a nervous man – Very nervous, indeed.’
‘I’d hardly have suspected it.’ Appleby looked curiously at Bagot. ‘But continue.’
‘He may have gone to sleep, and come awake, believing he had heard some disturbance in the house. But he was also, you must understand, a man of considerable courage. He at once made his way to the library, the focus of the earlier alarm. He may have believed that somebody was attempting to break in through the French window. So he armed himself.’
‘Armed himself! However could he do that?’
‘With some sort of dagger, Sir John, from those abundant trophies on the wall.’
‘You have a point there, Mr Bagot.’
‘Have you noticed the floor, Sir John?’
‘Yes, I have. Noticing things is a habit of mine.’
‘Parquetry, Sir John. And with a number of doubtless very valuable oriental rugs. The footing is treacherous, sir.’
‘Is it, indeed? People have been known to tumble about on it?’
‘His lordship, at least, must have tumbled. And to tragic effect, Sir John. His slip, unhappily, was fatal to him.’
‘But, Mr Bagot, if all this were true, surely the weapon would have been found beside the body?’
‘It would have occurred to his lordship that as things stood – or rather, lay – there must have been a danger of his being thought to have committed suicide. And that, in an English nobleman, would be widely regarded as disgraceful.’
‘It’s disgraceful to make away with oneself?’
‘In the circle in which his lordship moved, decidedly so. So he managed to stagger to the wall and replace the weapon.’
‘So that it would be supposed he had been murdered – and there’s nothing disgraceful about that?’
‘Precisely so, Sir John.’
‘But, Mr Bagot, if – following this line of yours – somebody had the misfortune to be charged with the murder, and convicted, would there be anything unfortunate and disgraceful about that?’
‘The question is hypothetical, Sir John. But I think a coroner’s jury will bring in what is called an open verdict. Many of its members, after all, will be tenants or employees about the estate.’
It had by this time become clear to Appleby that Bagot was unlikely to be of much help on what might be called the speculative side of the Clusters affair.
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