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85 pages

English

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Though British writer E.F. Benson is best remembered today as the creator of the Mapp and Lucia series of wickedly funny social satires, the prolific author also made several forays into mysteries. The Blotting Book begins with the discovery of a mutilated body and rapidly evolves into a tightly plotted whodunit that will enthrall fans of the genre.

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 mars 2011
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781775451792
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

THE BLOTTING BOOK
* * *
E. F. BENSON

*

The Blotting Book First published in 1908 ISBN 978-1-775451-79-2 © 2011 The Floating Press While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI
Chapter I
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Mrs. Assheton's house in Sussex Square, Brighton, was appointed with thatfinish of smooth stateliness which robs stateliness of its formality, andconceals the amount of trouble and personal attention which has,originally in any case, been spent on the production of the smoothness.Everything moved with the regularity of the solar system, and, superiorto that wild rush of heavy bodies through infinite ether, there was neverthe slightest fear of comets streaking their unconjectured way across thesky, or meteorites falling on unsuspicious picnicers. In Mrs. Assheton'shouse, supreme over climatic conditions, nobody ever felt that roomswere either too hot or too cold, a pleasantly fresh yet comfortably warmatmosphere pervaded the place, meals were always punctual and heradmirable Scotch cook never served up a dish which, whether plain orornate, was not, in its way, perfectly prepared. A couple of deft andnoiseless parlour-maids attended to and anticipated the wants of herguests, from the moment they entered her hospitable doors till when, ontheir leaving them, their coats were held for them in the most convenientpossible manner for the easy insertion of the human arm, and the tails oftheir dinner-coats cunningly and unerringly tweaked from behind. In everyway in fact the house was an example of perfect comfort; the softestcarpets overlaid the floors, or, where the polished wood was left bare,the parquetry shone with a moonlike radiance; the newest and mostentertaining books (ready cut) stood on the well-ordered shelves in thesitting-room to beguile the leisure of the studiously minded; thebilliard table was always speckless of dust, no tip was ever missing fromany cue, and the cigarette boxes and match-stands were always keptreplenished. In the dining-room the silver was resplendent, until themoment when before dessert the cloth was withdrawn, and showed a rosewoodtable that might have served for a mirror to Narcissus.
Mrs. Assheton, until her only surviving son Morris had come to live withher some three months ago on the completion of his four years atCambridge, had been alone, but even when she was alone this ceremony ofdrawing the cloth and putting on the dessert and wine had never beenomitted, though since she never took either, it might seem to be awasted piece of routine on the part of the two noiseless parlourmaids.But she did not in the least consider it so, for just as she alwaysdressed for dinner herself with the same care and finish, whether she wasgoing to dine alone or whether, as tonight, a guest or two was diningwith her, as an offering, so to speak, on the altar of her ownself-respect, so also she required self-respect and the formality thatindicated it on the part of those who ministered at her table, andenjoyed such excellent wages. This pretty old-fashioned custom had alwaysbeen the rule in her own home, and her husband had always had itpractised during his life. And since then—his death had occurred sometwenty years ago—nothing that she knew of had happened to make it lessproper or desirable. Kind of heart and warm of soul though she was, shesaw no reason for letting these excellent qualities cover any slacknessor breach of observance in the social form of life to which she had beenaccustomed. There was no cause, because one was kind and wise, to eatwith badly cleaned silver, unless the parlour-maid whose office it was toclean it was unwell. In such a case, if the extra work entailed by herillness would throw too much on the shoulders of the other servants, Mrs.Assheton would willingly clean the silver herself, rather than that itshould appear dull and tarnished. Her formalism, such as it was, wasperfectly simple and sincere. She would, without any very poignant regretor sense of martyrdom, had her very comfortable income been cut down to atenth of what it was, have gone to live in a four-roomed cottage with oneservant. But she would have left that four-roomed cottage at once foreven humbler surroundings had she found that her straitened circumstancesdid not permit her to keep it as speckless and soignée as was herpresent house in Sussex Square.
This achievement of having lived for nearly sixty years so decorously mayperhaps be a somewhat finer performance than it sounds, but Mrs. Asshetonbrought as her contribution to life in general a far finer offering thanthat, for though she did not propose to change her ways and manner oflife herself, she was notoriously sympathetic with the changed life ofthe younger generation, and in consequence had the confidence of youngfolk generally. At this moment she was enjoying the fruits of her liberalattitude in the volubility of her son Morris, who sat at the end of thetable opposite to her. His volubility was at present concerned with hismotor-car, in which he had arrived that afternoon.
"Darling mother," he was saying, "I really was frightened as to whetheryou would mind. I couldn't help remembering how you received Mr.Taynton's proposal that you should go for a drive in his car. Don't youremember, Mr. Taynton? Mother's nose did go in the air. It's no usedenying it. So I thought, perhaps, that she wouldn't like my having one.But I wanted it so dreadfully, and so I bought it without telling her,and drove down in it to-day, which is my birthday, so that she couldn'tbe too severe."
Mr. Taynton, while Morris was speaking, had picked up the nutcrackers theboy had been using, and was gravely exploding the shells of the nuts hehad helped himself to. So Morris cracked the next one with a loud bangbetween his white even teeth.
"Dear Morris," said his mother, "how foolish of you. Give Mr. Morrisanother nutcracker," she added to the parlour-maid.
"What's foolish?" asked he, cracking another.
"Oh Morris, your teeth," she said. "Do wait a moment. Yes, that's right.And how can you say that my nose went in the air? I'm sure Mr. Tayntonwill agree with me that that is really libellous. And as for your beingafraid to tell me you had bought a motor-car yourself, why, that issillier than cracking nuts with your teeth."
Mr. Taynton laughed a comfortable middle-aged laugh.
"Don't put the responsibility on me, Mrs. Assheton," he said. "As long asMorris's bank doesn't tell us that his account is overdrawn, he can dowhat he pleases. But if we are told that, then down comes the cartloadsof bricks."
"Oh, you are a brick all right, Mr. Taynton," said the boy. "I couldstand a cartload of you."
Mr. Taynton, like his laugh, was comfortable and middle-aged. Solicitorsare supposed to be sharp-faced and fox-like, but his face waswell-furnished and comely, and his rather bald head beamed withbenevolence and dinner.
"My dear boy," he said, "and it is your birthday—I cannot honoureither you or this wonderful port more properly than by drinking yourhealth in it."
He began and finished his glass to the health he had so neatly proposed,and Morris laughed.
"Thank you very much," he said. "Mother, do send the port round. What aninhospitable woman!"
Mrs. Assheton rose.
"I will leave you to be more hospitable than me, then, dear," she said.
"Shall we go, Madge? Indeed, I am afraid you must, if you are to catchthe train to Falmer."
Madge Templeton got up with her hostess, and the two men rose too. Shehad been sitting next Morris, and the boy looked at her eagerly.
"It's too bad, your having to go," he said. "But do you think I may comeover to-morrow, in the afternoon some time, and see you and LadyTempleton?"
Madge paused a moment.
"I am so sorry," she said, "but we shall be away all day. We shan't beback till quite late."
"Oh, what a bore," said he, "and I leave again on Friday. Do let me comeand see you off then."
But Mrs. Assheton interposed.
"No, dear," she said, "I am going to have five minutes' talk with Madgebefore she goes and we don't want you. Look after Mr. Taynton. I know hewants to talk to you and I want to talk to Madge."
Mr. Taynton, when the door had closed behind the ladies, sat down againwith a rather obvious air of proposing to enjoy himself. It was quitetrue that he had a few pleasant things to say to Morris, it is also truethat he immensely appreciated the wonderful port which glowed, ruby-like,in the nearly full decanter that lay to his hand. And, above all, he,with his busy life, occupied for the most part in innumerable smallaffairs, revelled in the sense of leisure and serene smoothness whichpermeated Mrs. Assheton's house. He was still a year or two short ofsixty, and but for his very bald and shining head would have seemedyounger, so fresh was he in complexion, so active, despite a certainreassuring corpulency, was he in his movements. But when he dinedquietly like this, at Mrs. Assheton's, he would willingly have sacrificedthe next five years of his life if he could have been assured on reallyreliable authority—the authority for instance of the RecordingAngel—that in five years time he would be able to sit quiet and not workany more. He wanted very much to be able to take a passive instead of anactive interest in life, and this a few hundreds of pounds a year inaddition to his savings would enable him to do. He saw, in f