The Bloody Wood Read Online Free PDF Page B

case. ‘Where did Martineau get hold of him, I wonder? It’s usually a groom or an under-gardener – or a footman, where they still happen – who makes a nuisance of himself when he has a strategic base in a house like this. At least you’d suppose the wretched girls might be safe from a butler.’
    ‘I see. Well, Friary might be described, I suppose, as a well-preserved butler. As to where Martineau picked him up, I haven’t a notion. He may have a past, no doubt. But then we all do.’
    ‘Just what do you mean by that?’
    Appleby was startled. The words had come, sharp and uncontrolled, from the obscurity of the car into which Dr Fell had now climbed.
    ‘I mean no more than I say,’ he said. ‘That’s my habit.’
    ‘Sorry.’ Fell’s voice was at once confused and apologetic. ‘I’ve had a damnable day – and you can guess I’m not happy about Mrs Martineau. And now I must be off. Another couple of calls, as a matter of fact.’
    ‘I wouldn’t like your job – although I wish I did as useful a one.’ Appleby stood back, waiting for Fell to slam his door. ‘Certainly not in winter. It’s something you have to grow up to, I think.’
    ‘Well, I didn’t. As you know. Good night.’
    At this the door did shut; the engine of the car came to life with an unimpressive rattle; Dr Fell flicked on his lights, and drove off rapidly down the drive.
    One can put a foot in it, Appleby thought. One can put both feet in it. But to put each foot in it successively is something of an achievement. And with Dr Fell he seemed to have managed just that. To be so touchy, the man must have had some nasty check to his career, and a country doctor’s job must irk him, even although he was good at it. Appleby turned back, and made his way round to the terrace. Perhaps Fell had thought he was hinting some knowledge of him, and proposing to winkle out more. People did sometimes take it for granted that his profession must render him ceaselessly inquisitive about other folks’ affairs. It was a misconception. And certainly he hadn’t the slightest wish to learn more about Dr Fell.
    I do not love you Dr Fell … Nor hate you, nor care twopence for you either way. Appleby had come to this conclusion on the matter – which showed that he was not very pleased with himself – when he rounded the corner of the house. Lights were still burning in the music room, but in addition to this somebody appeared to have returned to the loggia, for there was a light there also. Appleby strolled over to it, vaguely supposing it might be his wife. Judith too – although so inveterately sociable – was fond of occasional solitude.
    It wasn’t Judith; it was Diana Page. For a moment he thought she was asleep, for she was sitting hunched across a small table, with her head buried in her arms. Then he saw her shoulders heave, and heard the sound of convulsive sobbing. For some reason or other – and, like Dr Gregory Fell’s past, it was no business of his – Diana was having a good, a very good, cry. Appleby backed hastily, proposing to steal away. Only this time, unfortunately, he put his foot in it quite literally. Mrs Martineau’s gardening basket was on the ground by the loggia door. It contained, among other things, a small watering can. He stepped into the one, and overturned the other.
    Diana jerked herself upright. She stared at Appleby, and Appleby stared at her. To step forward with some word, or some mere gesture of comfort might have seemed natural enough. But there are tears and tears – and Diana’s, at the moment, somehow didn’t prompt to consolation. She was, as Appleby had told himself earlier, little more than a child. It was a child’s face that looked at him now. At the same time it was a face vividly sensuous – and with a sensuousness that had somehow been outraged or baffled. Angry mortification was what Appleby saw as he looked. It could be read as plainly as a book.
    ‘Go away! You beastly, beastly spy, go