Free A Family Affair by Michael Innes Page A

voonderble vorlt of art.’ Mr Braunkopf, as he touched this cherished and sublime expression, looked regretfully at the empty half-bottle on his desk; he had erred in hospitality (he must have been feeling) in treating so particularly good a friend as Sir John Appleby to so meagre a symposium. ‘And natchly, Sir John, there is a blue file. There has to be a blue file, Sir John.’ Mr Braunkopf paused for a moment, as if dimly feeling that this contention ought to be substantiated. ‘All the colours in the spectrum – no? – must go to the composings the glorious sunlightings that voonderble vorlt. So I vork through them all.’
    ‘All the collectors of dirty pictures?’
    ‘High class, only.’ Mr Braunkopf sounded his reproachful note. ‘Nothink to do with pornography, no? Pornography is for middle-class persons; nobles gentry and all stimultaneous Da Vinci clients have refined interest in erotica .’
    ‘I think we can cut out all that.’ It certainly seemed to Appleby that it would be fruitless to pursue Braunkopf’s singularly confused morality and sociology. ‘You drew up a short list, I imagine, of persons whose tastes in this direction were backed by fairly substantial means. It was a most rational proceeding. But how did you subsequently contrive contacting them?’
    ‘Bargains, Sir John.’ Braunkopf beamed at the innocence of the question that had been directed at him. ‘I take a portfolio with some six ten top-class drawings regrettables. And I offer these regrettables at low figure suitable persons. Then I achieve conversion.’
    ‘I rather doubt that.’
    ‘I achieve conversion on various art topics. Relaxed conversion, Sir John, puttikler appropriate between established collector and reputacious dealer. Then I lead the conversion round to security, a most puttikler important topic collectors of regrettables. On account insurance, Sir John. One regrettable in a collection of respectables is easy to insure. But too many not, yes?’
    ‘So I should imagine. So you got these people to discuss security, and thefts, and so forth. No doubt you represented yourself as having connections which might make you more effective in recovering pictures, were a robbery ever to occur, than are the police. And credit where credit is due, Braunkopf. You’d make a very good job of that sort of talk.’
    ‘My goot Sir John, that is great kindnesses in you.’ Braunkopf seemed genuinely moved by the tribute thus paid to him. ‘And so, you see, I come to the owner this high-class regrettable.’ He gave Nanna and Pippa a wave. ‘It was my goot patron Mr Praxiteles. My late goot patron Mr Praxiteles.’
    ‘I find it hard to believe in the existence of a man with such a name. And do you mean he’s dead?’
    ‘Mr Praxiteles, Sir John, is a most wealthy and high reputacious shipowner. And not defunk. Not that at all.’ Somewhat surprisingly, the ghost of a grin hovered on the dignified features of Mr Braunkopf. ‘Just no lonker a goot patron the Da Vinci Gallery.’
    ‘I see.’ Appleby glanced rather grimly at the Da Vinci’s proprietor. ‘This fellow Praxiteles was the owner of the Giulio Romano, and he was foolish enough to disclose the fact to you – with the further information that it had been stolen, or at least made away with for a time?’
    ‘Exackly, Sir John. Removed from his collection by unknown depradatious persons, who left a note that only some jokings was intended, and that soon the Nanna and Pippa turn up again.’
    ‘It has already struck me that that might be the way of it. So your precious Mr Polyclitus–’
    ‘Praxiteles, Sir John.’
    ‘Praxiteles decided to keep mum for a little, and just hope the picture would come back, rather than risk embarrassing publicity? Then, sure enough, his faith in human nature was rewarded, and back it did come.’
    ‘After I had bought it, my goot Sir John.’ Braunkopf made this point urgently.
    ‘Not exactly that, as a matter of fact. When the