Appleby's Answer by Michael Innes Read Free Book Online Page A

journey in it, and a retired soldier. But the salmon-pink one rather shut the other one up.’
    â€˜Then you were no doubt preserved from some entirely boring communication. During the informal aftermath of this’ – Miss Barrace was grim – ‘quite a number of people will want to tell you things. And now, Sir John, are you ready?’
    â€˜I believe I’d claim readiness as one of my few remaining virtues.’
    â€˜Good,’ Miss Barrace said. And she tapped on the table and stood up.

 
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Part Two
    IN DARKEST WILTS

 
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5
    Miss Priscilla Pringle to Miss Barbara Vanderpump
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    MY DEAR BARBARA,
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    No, I think I shall not be in town again for some time, but of course we must certainly lunch together when I do come up! I have finished Poison at the Parsonage , I am thankful to announce, if only after one or two bad moments. Needless to say, there was no trouble with the ecclesiastical part, because I know that territory thoroughly. But the whole episode of the unprincipled farmer who thought he was shooting a fox (although it was really the red-haired Lady Curricle, who had ‘taken a toss’, you will remember, over a hedge) was, I fear, a mistake. I have never myself ridden to hounds (although my Uncle Arthur was an enthusiast and celebrated as a most intrepid ‘thruster’ in his time), and found considerable difficulty in catching the feel of a fast run with the sagacious animals! But now I think it will at least pass. I found just a little help, I will confess to you, in Siegfried Sassoon’s Memoirs of a Fox-Hunting Man .
    Speaking of parsonages, do you recall my odd encounter with Captain Bulkington, about which you were so anxious that I should tell that important policeman, Appleby? Well, I recently met somebody from his, Bulkington’s, part of the country (which is near Chippenham) and she told me that the proper name of ‘Kandahar’, the Captain’s house, is simply The Old Rectory, Long Canings. The Parish of Long Canings was combined a good many years ago with the neighbouring parish of Gibber Porcorum. At that time the Captain must have bought the house from the Ecclesiastical Commissioners and given it its present fancy name, which no doubt commemorates some family association of his own. And talking, by the way, of names, it appears that Long Canings is so called after an interesting rural pursuit, long practised there. I must find out more about this.
    But I want to find out more about something else. The Old Rectory is not really old at all – and indeed parsons’ houses thus denominated seldom are. In the mid-nineteenth century, when (as you will know) the beneficed clergy were still persons of position, and owning a stake in the country, it was the frequent habit to build vicarages and the like which often overshadowed, in point of respectability and consequence, the local public house (dear me, I mean of course to write manor house!) itself. Our quaint Captain’s residence is said to be like this: an imposing Victorian pile in the Gothic taste. It was thus no doubt suitable for the reception of the extensive tutorial establishment he designed.
    But why, you ask, am I interested in the place? Well it seems that the last incumbent actually to live there came to a violent and mysterious end! He was murdered!! It is quite notable how seldom this happens to clergymen in real life, so an authentic instance is naturally of interest to me. And I have a notion that just a peep at the scene (although not, of course, exposing myself to the renewed importunities of its owner) might be not without imaginative stimulus. Nor might quiet chats with the older among the surrounding peasantry be wholly unproductive. In short, tomorrow as ever is, I propose to drive over and go on the prowl for copy! I think this entitles me to sign myself, with love,
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    Your enterprising friend,
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    PRISCILLA PRINGLE
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    The writer of