Free A Connoisseur's Case by Michael Innes

her from time to time. Her body speaks, if you ask me.’
    Appleby, who had been listening attentively, was startled.
    â€˜What was that?’ he asked.
    â€˜Shakespeare.’ Colonel Raven produced one of his rare contented smiles as he made this unexpected reply. ‘Cleopatra, would it be? No harm in frankness with a married woman, my dear.’ And the Colonel gave an ingenuously conspiratorial nod to Judith. ‘Idle and childless women of a certain age. They sometimes develop a roving eye.’ The Colonel hesitated. ‘And turn up in unexpected places.’
    â€˜In fact’ – Judith interpreted – ‘Mrs Bertram Coulson is no better than Mrs Binns was?’
    This time the Colonel shook his head.
    â€˜No, no,’ he said hastily. ‘One mustn’t say that. Dashed serious thing to say. No evidence, at all. Or very little. But flighty – yes.’
    Appleby watched, with considerable satisfaction, more burgundy being poured into his glass. Only Colonel Raven’s butler was now in attendance. As well as being a dolt, Appleby reflected, he must be a decidedly confidential servant.
    â€˜You said one thing, Colonel, about the belated arrival of Bertram Coulson that struck me. Clearly the man would need some personal possessions, including his own collection of books, and so on. But why sporting gear? He’d apparently ignored, for years and years, being the possessor of a large sporting property. I don’t get a picture of the fellow at all.’
    Colonel Raven considered this for a moment. He took a sip of burgundy and considered it again.
    â€˜The man’s a romantic idealist,’ he said.
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    Both the Applebys had found this so surprising an expression to drop from Uncle Julius that a moment’s silence succeeded. Appleby caught the butler’s eye, and had a feeling that it had turned more than commonly inexpressive. But, oddly enough, it was to his butler that Colonel Raven now turned.
    â€˜Tarbox,’ he said, ‘you would agree with me?’
    â€˜Yes, sir – although I am not quite clear on the score of the qualificatory epithet. “Romantic”, sir, I confess to be obscure to me. But “idealist”, certainly. Only a very considerable idealist would have considered retaining the services of the man Hollywood.’
    â€˜Hollywood, Tarbox?’
    â€˜Mr Coulson’s butler, sir. He had been many years at Scroop House, and served both Mr Binns and the Honourable Mrs Coulson before him. But to my mind, sir, he is a person to be deprecated.’
    â€˜Deprecated, Tarbox?’
    â€˜â€œTo advise the avoidance of” is, I understand, sir, the common signification of the term. I should advise the avoidance of the person under review.’
    â€˜Dash it all, Tarbox, this Hollywood isn’t under review, and I certainly have no intention of looking him up. And now I have quite forgotten what is under review, as you call it.’
    â€˜The temperamental characteristics of Mr Coulson, sir. You were remarking that he is a romantic idealist. Her ladyship will correct me if I have repeated the expression incorrectly.’
    â€˜It was certainly the Colonel’s phrase,’ Judith said.
    â€˜Thank you, my lady.’ Tarbox bowed gravely and withdrew – apparently upon some mission connected with the service of dessert.
    â€˜The dolt’s no fool,’ Colonel Raven said. ‘He agrees with me – although he was determined to confuse the issue with rubbishing talk about somebody called I’ve already forgotten what. But at least you’re now clear about Bertram Coulson.’
    Appleby shook his head, laughing.
    â€˜Not in the least,’ he said. ‘But was it his romantic idealism that prevented him from coming to live at Scroop when he first inherited it?’
    â€˜Yes – I think it was.’ Colonel Raven sounded at once convinced and a trifle vague, as if an