Death at Swaythling Court by J. J. Connington

Author:J. J. Connington [Connington, J. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781471906305
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2014-06-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The Theory of the Novelist

DURING dinner, Colonel Sanderstead avoided the subject of the inquest; but when he and Angermere settled down in the study after their coffee, Hubbard’s death crept into the conversation almost immediately. Angermere was free from all prepossessions in the matter; he was a casual visitor who had chanced to be on the spot in time to see the unfolding of the Hubbard affair: and the Colonel felt a keen curiosity to know how the problem presented itself to a detached observer. Nor was he without hope that Angermere, with his long practice in mystery-concocting, might throw fresh light on the problem.

“It’s a pretty puzzle,” Angermere admitted, “a very pretty puzzle. I’ve been turning it over in my mind since I heard the evidence; and I think that from my point of view at least it has the makings of something.”

The Colonel made no attempt to conceal his interest:

“And you’ve hit on the solution, perhaps?”

Angermere’s faint gesture deprecated anything so definite.

“No, I’d hardly like to go so far as that, hardly so far as that. You see, Colonel, I approach this affair from a very definite direction. I’m professionally interested in it, if I may put it so. What I want to get out of it, if possible, is simply the germ of a yarn, nothing more. I’m not really interested in getting at the true solution; all I need for my purpose is a solution which can be used as the basis of a ‘shocker.’ I’m a seeker after sensation, you know, and not necessarily an inquirer into truth.”

The Colonel nodded, though he felt a certain disappointment with Angermere’s outlook.

“I expect that we part company at the very start,” the novelist continued. “For instance, are you yourself satisfied with the suicide hypothesis? Do you think the jury hit the nail on the head when they brought in that verdict?”

Colonel Sanderstead shifted uneasily in his chair. He had meant to question, not to be interrogated:

“Well, frankly, I don’t see what other verdict they could have brought in. Of course, it doesn’t clear up the case; it leaves the whole affair very much of a puzzle: but so far as it goes, it seems to me a very satisfactory verdict.”

Angermere smiled faintly at this reply, but the Colonel could see that there was no disagreeable superiority in the expression. The novelist was merely pleased to find that his opinion was verified.

“That just illustrates what I said. You’re quite satisfied with the verdict; and from your own point of view I think you’re perfectly right. It’s a mysterious affair in many ways; but all the evidence points towards that verdict. For my particular purpose, however, that verdict would be totally useless. It makes things too simple. What I want to get out of the thing, you understand, is a good tale, a downright mystery-tangle that will keep the reader wondering about the real story which underlies the surface-presentation, if you see what I mean.

“Now from that standpoint, there’s nix in a suicide case.

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