Appleby's Other Story Read Online Free PDF Page B

suppose, that superior tart, the second Mrs Tytherton. The sponging nephew?
    Surely not. But I’m forgetting. There was a useless son, I’ve been told, by a first marriage. He skulks somewhere in South America.’
    â€˜On the contrary, he has the good fortune to be skulking within reach of your backside.’
    These surprising words had scarcely been uttered before Appleby was aware of Raffaello sprawling face-downward on the grass. It had been a vigorous and accurate kick. Had the unfortunate art dealer really been a football, he would have gone straight between the posts.

 
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    Nor was the assailant assuaged. He had taken up a threatening posture above the prone man.
    â€˜I don’t know who you are,’ he said. ‘But what you are is clear enough. A poisonous little toad. Is that right?’ He drew back one foot and swung it gently. ‘Or shall I dribble you off the property?’
    â€˜Stop!’ It had taken Appleby a moment to get on terms with this astonishing irruption. ‘If you touch that man again you will find yourself under arrest.’
    â€˜And who the devil are you to give me orders?’ The new arrival had swung round. ‘Clear out.’
    â€˜I am, among other things, a Justice of the Peace. And I am not giving you orders. I am simply telling you, Mr Tytherton, of what will be the legal consequence of any further violence on your part.’ Appleby paused. ‘I suppose you know that your father is dead?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Then consider the mere indecency, hard upon that, of becoming involved in a vulgar brawl.’
    â€˜It takes two to manage a brawl. This creature will simply take a leathering. Let me show you.’
    â€˜I’ll sue you for assault. I’ll have you shut up – put away. You’re a madman.’ Raffaello had picked himself up, seemingly not much injured, and managed to interpose Appleby between himself and the ferocious young man who was undoubtedly Mark Tytherton.
    â€˜At least let me make him say he’s a poisonous little toad.’ Mark addressed this appeal to Appleby almost engagingly. ‘It will take only a single clout. You’ll see.’
    â€˜Mr Tytherton, you are not a schoolboy, and this is not a junior day-room. You no doubt overheard Mr Raffaello speak contemptuously both of yourself and others. But I advise you to forget about it, and think seriously of other things. I know little, so far, about the circumstances of your father’s death. But they appear to have been mysterious, and anybody who may conceivably have been concerned will be required to give an account of himself.’
    â€˜What about that chap?’ Contemptuously, Mark Tytherton pointed at Raffaello. ‘How does he account for himself?’
    â€˜Mr Raffaello is an art-dealer, and has been staying at Elvedon as your father’s guest.’
    â€˜And you – where do you come in?’
    â€˜I had better explain that at once.’ And Appleby did so. ‘So you understand,’ he concluded, ‘that I have no official standing in the affair whatever. But if the Chief Constable invites me to help, I shall do my best to do so.’
    â€˜I suppose you’ll all want me to account for my movements?’
    â€˜Almost certainly.’
    â€˜And that will take some doing.’ Raffaello interjected this viciously.
    â€˜At least we can tell this bloody wog to beat it for the time being?’ Again Mark Tytherton appealed to Appleby. ‘To crawl back into the woodwork?’
    â€˜Mr Raffaello may well wish to withdraw. Your childish and grossly insulting language, Mr Tytherton. is scarcely likely to induce him to linger.’
    â€˜A policeman, you say you are? You talk more like a book than a dick.’ Mark had produced this with a grin which one might have interpreted either as ferocious or as good-humoured, according as to how one felt about him. ‘Beetle off,’ he