5: Sparkwell and the country house murder mystery

‘You're home early. Party not up to snuff?’

‘No. I mean it was all just the same, but not. All people I know well, but it was me, I’m starting to look at things differently, look at people differently. I felt disgust, but I’m not sure at what.’

‘Decadent toffs?’

‘Oh you’d love that. No, something more basic. I think you’re right, there are natural ways to behave, and it all follows from body movements that allow the right nonverbals, but one’s likely to be locked-up for saying so these days because of what it all implies. The only good thing to come out of tonight’s shindig is that I’ve been invited by Julia to spend the weekend at Checkley Manor.’

‘Good for you.’

‘Oh, I shall need your assistance, fancy a few days in the country?’

‘Make a change from this Victorian watering hole.’

‘Something weird is happening here Sparkwell, I’m starting to look at things from your perspective, whilst you’re starting to adopt my affected speech!’

Charlie made slow progress through the country lanes, too much oncoming of course, not quite use to the car in such conditions, especially the potholes. My mind wandered to almost thirty years ago when one was first allowed a car. Always between thirty and forty on this road. With less traffic, you could use the whole road, with good tarmac and a still intact camber, hedges maintained in the right way, one had the line of sight. I directed her around to the back of the house.

‘Why are we here? I thought we were supposed to make a grand entrance at the front. I was ready to skid to a halt on the gravel.’

‘Because you are “support services” for the house, whilst I’m at home in the country.’

‘But this was never your home, was it?’

‘In the country I am always at home, which is why I’m more dressed down than you’ve ever seen me before, and about to get a whole lot scruffier.’

‘But I want to be outside, not in this suit, you said this place had some of the best unspoilt land and ancient woodland in the country.’

‘It does.’

‘I’ll muck in, I don’t mind, I’ll do my bit.’

‘No, you’ll get your free run of the outside, when the outside staff invite you.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘I mean, ask yourself, a place this size, who’s in charge day-to-day? Right then, let's unload.  We dump the bags a little way inside those double doors, and leave the car keys on one of the hooks on the funny old dresser on the right. You then wander around inside until challenged, whilst I go for a walk. See you in about half an hour I’d say.’

‘You could just announce me as your partner, or fiancé even.’

‘But you are neither. Besides, we could never pull it off and you know it. We are working out, or do I mean working through, this strange set-up precisely because we can’t handle relationships the way others can.’

‘I know. Whatever is fun, although it scares me some of the time.’

‘With a bit of luck, in years to come we’ll be taken for granted, someone will say “I notice those two are still following each other around, are they married?” And someone else will reply, “I never thought to ask.”

‘How romantic.’

Later, when I was making my way through the hall, Gregson appeared from the office; ‘How are the vines sir?’

‘Do you have eyes that see everything?’

‘I noticed years ago you always make for the old walled garden first, I would myself in your situation, your Uncle is bound to hold you responsible.’

‘Were it not for me you’d be responsible for several fields given over to vineyards by now.’

‘I know, I’m in your debt. I’ve given Miss Sparkwell the tour, shown her the room that the boss wants her to have, and where to find you. She said she’d deal with your bags herself?’

‘Excellent.’

‘She asked about the book, I just said it was a gift given to everyone the first time they spend a night here.’

‘Very wise.’

There was the sound of heels on stone, approaching. ‘Tony, my dear child, come and tell me about this young lady of yours, who is she, what is she? You really should confide in me more.’

‘Later, after you’ve met her. Now, I must tidy up a bit.’

I assumed I was in my usual room, sure enough Sparkwell was there, but strangely she wasn’t admiring the view, but seemed lost in the book. ‘Why do you call Lady Julia, just Julia, when in fact she’s another aunt?’

‘Because she’s just a Julia, she doesn’t behave like an Aunt’.

‘You haven’t got a title you’re not telling me about have you?’

‘No, she’s my late mother’s younger sister who married into all this.’

‘So, Aunt Elisabeth is…'

‘My late father’s elder sister, no titles there either I’m afraid.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.’

‘Seems like a long time ago. Like the book?’

‘It was written fifty years ago, printed about the same time but still new, never read, the spine isn’t cracked or broken. But with a new inscription in real ink by your Julia.’

‘We make progress Watson. Uncle still has crates of them.’

‘But is it real, about this house and a real murder?’

‘No, it is non-fiction, but about an unexplained death in this house, written by the unmarried sister of Uncle’s father, she was convinced it was a murder but nobody else was. So, you know, it’s an amusing conceit to invite everyone who comes to stay or to live here, to solve the murder.’

‘It reads like a murder mystery.’

‘Yes, well the author grew up with Agatha Christie stories. Unfortunately no reader so far has been able to add much, probably because everyone has been looking for a black cat in a darkened room which isn’t even there!’

‘I think I want to you to do me from now on, but always from behind, in the day time. Still lots of oral, then a quick finish.’

‘I’ll see what can be arranged. Dinner at the table in the big kitchen tonight, by the way.’

‘So is it going to happen this year, you said seven years.’

‘Are you organised, if you get enough.’

‘Doesn’t seem right setting up in our own cellar, shouldn’t I have a winery?’

‘What appalling Americanisms you do come out with Uncle. You’re just a French peasant with a few rows of vines on the side, so it’s a Cave, which traditionally means both the place for making and storage, close to the ground or below, so the temperature is always cool.’

‘So why did you make me fork out for that refrigeration tank, vat thing?’

‘Because one year you will be caught out, besides you’ll use it anyway after the pressing, maybe for quite a while depending on the quality of the juice.’

‘Do we pick and press them all, or should I select?’

‘You’re still about five years ahead of yourself!’

‘Gregson said you’ve been skulking around already.’

‘Yes, I’ve re-pruned and tied and put up the first three, on the first row by the north wall.’

‘Well, thanks for telling me!’

‘No, but it will be bleedin’ obvious when you see them, how the fruit will get more light, and you’ve got to force them anyway this far north.’

‘You’re the expert.’

‘But I’m not, I’m just a few steps ahead of you. So don’t blame me when it all goes belly-up.’

‘Quite right Tony dearest. I’m sure he’s planning to get you down here to take responsibility for when to pick. So can we now talk about something else, I’ve heard it all before and I’m sure Charlotte is bored to death.’

‘Can she lie?’ Asked Julia when we were alone.

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Thank goodness. I want to call her simple, in the most complimentary way, but one can’t in this rotten society we now live in. Simple goodness. But it’s the ones who can’t lie, the ones who are too honest for their own good who fall at the first fence. Still she’s survived till now. And she’s got you to look out for her, you’ve got an in, to that world. Are you totally besotted?’

‘I’ll be the last to know! She’s intrigued by the book. First book I’ve seen her reading.’

‘You know, I’ve got a hunch about that book.’

‘Yes I know, you told me years ago, when I read it. I really must look at it again.’

‘Did you ever meet her?’

‘I’ve been told I did, but I’ve no memory of her. Probably told by you, probably when you first brought me here. That was a while before you married!’

It was on the last evening after dinner that Julia brought out her notebook. ‘Now then Charlotte I must tell you that we never ask people here to play silly games, or do a turn at Christmas or on Holy days. We just ask everyone to give a little review of the book, I’ve got one hundred and sixty-seven short, paragraph length notes here that I’ve made over the years. Now then, what did you think?’

‘Well, it’s a bit embarrassing really.’

‘Fear not, we never pass judgement, and it’s so long ago now that no one will be offended. So?’

‘Well the thing is, I found myself thinking not so much about the events, but the person who wrote about them.’

‘I knew it, wonderful! We’ve only got about half a dozen who focus on the woman herself. Go on.’

‘I think she herself was a bit disturbed, I don’t mean just by being here at the time, but as a personality.’

‘Yes?’

‘And the craziest thought came to me that, well two possibilities really, but both about the thought that writing the book was a kind of disguised confession...’

‘Don’t mind me dear, I’m just scribbling way.’

‘One was the obvious, she committed a murder, people investigated, made nothing of it, no one thinks there has even been an unlawful killing, let alone murder, or indeed that she had anything to do with the events at all; a couple of years pass and still no suspicions emerge, in her mind no one has noticed the obvious, that she did it. But it prays on her mind, a bit like the thing about genius needing an audience, I’ve committed the perfect crime and nobody has noticed. So the book is her way of getting some satisfaction.’

‘Brilliant.’

‘The other is that she believes she must have committed a murder, she was disturbed in a deluded, hallucinating kind of way and by writing the book she is trying to explain events to herself as a sort of therapy, testing the evidence, did I or didn’t I? Am I sane again, now?’

‘Fascinating. Thank you my dear. You must come again, often.’