Appleby at Allington Read Online Free PDF Page A

on a note of mingled bewilderment and sharp alarm.
    ‘It’s a man,’ Appleby repeated grimly. ‘And I think he’s dead.’
    However it may have been with Owain Allington, Appleby had seen too many dead men in unexpected places and mysterious circumstances to be particularly staggered upon the present occasion. He even detected himself as reflecting that, had he been sufficiently strong-minded to decline this poking around the scene of the son et lumière , he would not have got himself thus tiresomely involved with whatever unfortunate thing had happened.
    He also found time to be thankful – and rather brutally to tell Allington that he should be similarly thankful – that he wasn’t dead himself. For what had taken place was presently fairly clear. This ridiculous elevated box, with its mass of electrical equipment, had been casually left by the persons responsible for it in a highly dangerous state. Or – for it would be necessary to be very fair in the matter – in a state that was decidedly far from fool-proof. And this chap had climbed in and got himself electrocuted.
    It could hardly be anybody’s excuse that he was trespassing, and that nothing of the kind was to have been expected. The son et lumière at Allington Park must have been the talk of a dozen surrounding villages, and curiosity about this structure was as natural as if it had been a tripod arrived from Mars. Appleby’s brow darkened as he reflected that half a dozen venturesome children might have gone scrambling up that ladder in the dark.
    Allington had found a master-switch, and the place was now safe enough. But, for the moment, this seemed to represent the limit of his nervous resources. He was badly shaken – which wasn’t, Appleby reflected, surprising in the least. Here were the two of them, in darkness except for an unimpressive electric torch, perched at the top of a ladder with a totally unexplained and unexpected corpse.
    ‘A tramp,’ Allington said. ‘He must have decided to find shelter here for the night.’
    ‘Perhaps so.’ Appleby made a further, and necessarily imperfect, examination of the dead man. He looked about twenty-five, and he had ginger hair. He certainly bore no appearance of belonging to the higher classes of society. ‘It’s a pity that even the lights on your terrace are out. I suppose they’re the only part of the electrical equipment over there still to be tied up with all this?’
    ‘Oh, certainly. I had most of that part of the damned nonsense cleared up this morning.’ Allington no longer seemed particularly proud of his son et lumière .
    ‘It can’t be helped. You’d better get back to the house, and leave me here. Take your torch. Call the police. And call your own doctor, as well. He won’t thank you, but he’ll no doubt turn out promptly for the squire. When this sort of thing happens, it’s sometimes useful to have an additional observer around. And it might be useful with the insurance people.’
    ‘The insurance people?’
    ‘Certainly. You were talking about them. Whoever this chap is, and however unauthorized his entry here, anybody who depended upon him would have a bit of a case against someone.’ Appleby spoke dryly. ‘It may sound callous, but one has to have a thought to these small practical matters. And rouse your servants, and have them bring over rugs and hot-water bottles as quick as they can.’
    ‘But surely–’
    ‘The man’s dead, all right, but we’re not doctors. It’s prudent to take every practical measure. You’ll sound less of a fool at the inquest.’ Appleby checked this note of irritation, since it was something not very decent to express. ‘I’m afraid you’re a bit shaken, Allington, and I’m sorry to sound brusque. But the sooner we have the proper measures under way – well, the sooner we can relax a little.’
    ‘I’ll go at once.’ But Allington was still irresolute. ‘I wish Martin really had turned up this evening. I rather