Free Death at the Chase by Michael Innes Page A

something called the Committee of Ways and Means. Does all the thinking up of how to raise the wind. We’re a committee like that now.’
    ‘You must not regard my wife and myself as having been co-opted,’ Appleby said. ‘And perhaps your deliberations ought to be in private.’
    ‘Oh, we’re not thinking of anything underhand!’ There was an offended note in Finn’s voice. ‘We just have to find the sound psychological approach. Make sure we know the sort of old boy we’re dealing with. Bobby says he’s a pathological miser, like somebody in Proust.’
    ‘Balzac,’ Bobby said.
    ‘It’s the same idea. Would you say, sir, that Bobby’s right?’
    ‘Certainly not. My acquaintance with Mr Martyn Ashmore is both recent and slight. But I’m not in a position to say that Bobby is wrong . And if you have estimated Mr Ashmore’s disposition accurately, he would appear to be a particularly unpromising person to whom to direct an application of the kind envisaged – would he not?’ Appleby frowned as he spoke. He was never pleased when he heard himself producing this kind of sub-ironic note. ‘And I’m blessed if I’d know how to begin, anyway.’
    ‘Genuine cheer,’ Finn said readily. ‘We think he probably feels lonely, and only imagines he dislikes his relations as he seems to say he does. Waiting to be approached, really. If he can just be given the impression that Giles is really fond of him–’
    ‘But is Giles really fond of him? I seem to have gathered that he knows virtually nothing about him.’
    ‘Then he will thaw at once,’ Finn concluded, unheeding. ‘There will be a benefit all round.’
    ‘Because old Mr Ashmore,’ Bobby amplified with every appearance of gravity, ‘will be drawn back into the main stream of wholesome family affections and solicitudes, and Giles will be given the means of uniting himself to his Robina forthwith. Giles, isn’t that–’
    ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Giles Ashmore said automatically.
     
    The fire was burning low. Appleby, obeying the iron law of hospitality, put another log on it, and thought gloomily of Hoobin and Hoobin’s birthday whisky. This at least diverted his mind from the childish confabulation going forward. It was his wife’s name that recalled him to it.
    ‘And it’s about this,’ Finn was saying, ‘that we want Lady Appleby’s advice. It seems clear to us that Giles should simply drive up to the front door of the Chase – or better perhaps walk up – and ring the bell.’
    ‘Excellent,’ Appleby said. ‘Only I’m inclined to think that he ought first to take out a life assurance policy. Made in the lady’s favour. But go on.’
    ‘I suppose he ought to think of that sort of thing.’ Not unnaturally, Finn was a little at a loss. ‘Giles should simply pay a friendly family call. Only we feel that he ought to take a present to the old boy. Something really appealing and likely to soften the heart. What do you think, Lady Appleby? What would you advise? Remember he’s a shocking old miser – or so they say – who lives more or less on dog-biscuits and water. Would a Stilton be a good idea?’
    ‘I doubt whether Stilton is the right cheese with dog-biscuits. And if Mr Ashmore is really penurious he will only use it to bait his mouse-traps.’ Judith paused as if in serious thought. ‘I’d be inclined to advise something mice don’t care for.’
    ‘Or bats or owls,’ Bobby said. ‘Ashmore Chase is quite certain to abound in them.’
    ‘I know!’ Giles suddenly said. It was his first moment of perceptible animation, so that everybody stared at him. ‘A bottle of wine.’
    ‘Or a dozen bottles of wine.’ The expansive nature of Finn was at play here. ‘More than that might be awkward. Kind of Father Christmas effect. But a case would be just the thing.’
    ‘You mean I’d have to walk up the drive with it?’ Giles asked apprehensively. ‘Wouldn’t it be a bit heavy?’
    ‘Perhaps, in that case, you could