Free Ampersand Papers by Michael Innes Page A

you.’
    ‘Most interesting! You and I might very well construct our own romance, don’t you think? Shall we have a secret passage, for instance, winding up from the recesses of one of your caves into the very castle itself?’
    ‘A splendid fancy! We entertain one another like schoolboys, do we not, my dear Dr Sutch? We must give Narcissus Digitt a parrot and at the same time deprive him of a leg, so that he shall be a perfect Long John Silver.’
    The Ampersand Arms was in sight before these two devoted scholars had tired of thus recreating themselves. They then had a drink together, and they dined together later on. Their talk, naturally, was much of the present state of knowledge and similar philosophical matters. These, in the poet Milton’s phrase, were speculations high and deep. And it was perhaps only once or twice that each detected in the other a glance speculative in a different sense.

Part Two
Criminal Investigation at
     
Treskinnick Castle
     
8
     
    Sir John Appleby now appears on our scene. It is quite fortuitously. He knows nothing whatever about Treskinnick Castle and its inhabitants: not even what a guidebook or work of reference might have told him. He is on his way to visit friends near St Ives, and has judged that he may be going to arrive inconveniently early. So he has parked his car, walked to the edge of the cliff, and observed a convenient declivity by which it is possible to reach a mile-long beach. The beach is deserted; the sea is tranquil; it is a good place for a walk. He scrambles down. Although elderly, he remains of an active habit. It won’t be at all difficult to scramble up again. He will poke at seaweed, examine shells, He rejoices at this peaceful prospect.
    Yon castle hath a pleasant seat … Appleby has become aware of Treskinnick in the middle distance, but he has left his map in the car and is unable to identify it. Rather vaguely, he compares it in his head with Tantallon in Scotland. It is protected by the sea in just the same way. But Tantallon is a ruin, and this place appears to be inhabited. It even runs to a flag-staff, but no flag flies. So perhaps the owner is not in residence. Appleby reflects that, were his wife accompanying him on this present expedition, they would undoubtedly assault the seemingly impregnable pile and effect an entry – whether by bribery or charm. Being alone, he will simply walk on, stare up at the frowning mass of masonry, retrace his steps, and continue on his way.
    And now he is aware of the North Tower, and of that mildly astonishing staircase. A bird – a gannet and not a temple-haunting martlet – is perched on top of it. The gannet rises, plunges, and disappears like a minute depth charge into the sea. Had the gannet miscalculated, it would have bashed itself on rock. Appleby walks on, stops, does his gaping act. There is really nothing much to be seen. There is now sheer cliff more or less in front of his nose, a glimpse of the tower in violent foreshortening on top of it, a glimpse, too, of the skimpy wooden affair, which at its lower end must take some turn into an outer court of the castle. Appleby himself turns, and gazes out over the sea. An empty sea with no craft in sight. From the top of the tower behind him there must be a tremendous view. It is all very splendid, tranquil, silent.
    The silence is broken. There is a rending sound, a crash, a rush of air past his face; then a momentary effect as of explosion and of debris falling and fallen everywhere in front of him. He has very nearly been killed.
    And somebody has been killed. It is the staircase that has crashed. It lies in fragments all around him, and in the middle of the wreckage is sprawled the body of a man. The man’s head is so disposed that there cannot be a moment’s doubt as to his condition. He is as the gannet would have been had the gannet been careless about its fishing.
    Appleby is never reckless; were he so, he would himself have been killed by one or