Hobby of Murder by E.X. Ferrars Read Free Book Online Page B

aggressive man, and he shrank with great distaste from aggression in others. The often reasonless aggression to be encountered in the academic world, the jostling for position, for power, had always bewildered him. The escape from it had been one of the compensations for retirement. But now it sounded as if on the visit to old friends in the quiet of the countryside he was to be embroiled in it. He did not like the thought of it. He did not like it at all.

CHAPTER 3
    Ernest Audley went to the Waldrons’ dinner-party. In fact, with his habit of punctuality he was the first guest to arrive. Andrew had met him once between the evening of the Davidges’ little party and the night of the dinner. He had been strolling back from the village one day about five o’clock after posting some letters at the nearest letter-box when a car had stopped beside him and Audley had leant out. They were, it appeared, just at the gate of Audley’s house, and he had invited Andrew in for a drink.
    The house, it had seemed to Andrew, was large for a man to live in by himself. It stood some way back from the road, with a stretch of well-tended garden in front of it. It had gables, a green pantile roof, picture windows, and had probably been built between the wars. Inside it felt cold, as if it suffered from not being fully inhabited. The room into which Audley took Andrew was of medium size, had a fitted dark brown carpet and was furnished with tall, wing-backed chairs covered in stiff blue linen, some reproduction chests and cabinets, a small bookcase filled with uniform editions of classics that looked as if they were seldom handled, and something that caught Andrew’s eye at once: a row, hanging on the wall, of three glass-fronted cases containing butterflies. They had plainly been skilfully pinned and set, and under each specimen was a minute label.
    Standing looking at them as Audley brought sherry from a corner cupboard, Andrew asked, ‘Your hobby?’
    ‘My father’s,’ Audley replied. ‘And it’s one that isn’t too well regarded now when we’re trying to preserve the sort of species that he has there. But I must admit that I usedto go out with him when I was a child, and enjoyed chasing the things, and I wouldn’t be parted from his collection for anything.’ He poured out sherry. ‘You’ve been retired for some time, I believe.’
    ‘About ten years,’ Andrew replied.
    ‘I often wonder how I shall occupy myself when I retire,’ Audley said as they both sat down. ‘Have you found it a problem?’
    ‘Not so far,’ Andrew said. ‘It’s taken me all that time to get a book written. Not that I ever worked at it very consistently. I’ve travelled a good deal, and besides, the book required a good deal of research. But now it’s in the hands of the publishers, I can’t say I’ve made any very definite plans for myself.’
    ‘You aren’t married, I believe.’
    ‘My wife died shortly before I retired.’
    ‘Ah, I’m sorry. You’ll have been told I and mine are separated. In fact, divorced. You could hardly help knowing that after what I said the other evening about that fellow Singleton. Curious how different those two brothers are. Brian’s a very good friend of mine.’
    ‘In any case, you’ve a good many years ahead of you before you need worry about retirement,’ Andrew said. ‘Do you see yourself staying in Lower Milfrey indefinitely?’
    ‘That’s something I ask myself pretty frequently. A flat in Rockford would save me a lot of trouble. But I dislike the idea of a move, probably having to sell off half my furniture because the flat would be very much smaller than this house, and undoubtedly I’d get cheated in the process, because I know nothing about the value of what I’ve got. I dislike the idea of being cheated. And I’ve some good friends here. Yes, probably I shall stay here for the foreseeable future.’
    They chatted for a while longer, then Andrew made his way back to the Davidges’