Appleby and the Ospreys by Michael Innes

Minnychip, an eminent Indian Civil Servant. Miss Minnychip, moreover, is on the record as having glimpsed the person descried by Lord Osprey through that problematical French window. It seems likely, therefore, that Miss Minnychip will again take the centre of the stage a little later on.
    Another, and much younger, woman has just been heard of. She is a publican’s daughter, and nameless so far. This latter fact is in itself suspicious – but suspicious, as it were, the wrong way on. She may well be taken, that is to say, as no more than a red herring, who will drop out unobtrusively in the sequel. But, of course, one never can tell.
    Two other women have been mentioned, but still linger in the wings. They are Lady Wimpole (whose husband, the Admiral, is at sea) and her daughter, Honoria. And here they are. Both have made statements to Detective-Inspector Ringwood, and they are now in Lady Wimpole’s bedroom, waiting to be called to luncheon, and meanwhile packing suitcases in a desultory way. They hope to leave Clusters in the course of the afternoon, but are resigned to spend another night in the place, if it is required of them.
    What is immediately interesting in these ladies is their evident appearance of having little in common. Both, indeed, suggest membership of the same upper or middling order of society, but any similarity ends there. Viewed sitting side by side in a railway carriage, they would quite fail to hint any connection one with the other. Lady Wimpole (although in an unobtrusive way conformable with her years) is very well groomed and turned out. Her attire, indeed, is so comprehensively correct for one who is spending a weekend in the country that you are at once aware of it as coming from an expensive establishment in London. Honoria, on the other hand, is dressed rather at random in what might be termed a functional and slightly mannish way, but this somehow makes more evident the fact of her being a strikingly good-looking young woman. Even horn-rimmed spectacles of a round and distinctly utilitarian sort fail to disguise this very important fact.
    What mother and daughter do share is something by its nature not immediately apparent to the view. They are both women of strong character, and each sets considerable store on getting a good deal of her own way in the world. Their ambitions, however, differ widely.
    Lady Wimpole is determined that her husband shall become First Sea Lord, and on the strategy and tactics requisite for this she manages to keep surprisingly up-to-date. When she was a girl, a sailor of her husband’s present seniority would have been well poised for this ultimate promotion were he in command of the Mediterranean Fleet.
    It isn’t quite like that now. The Mediterranean Fleet – some disagreeably plain-speaking persons are given to asserting – has fallen within a notional rather than an actual category. Certainly it hangs much in the dusty rear (to employ a markedly dissonant metaphor) of American Armadas in that region. Northern Approaches are another matter. Their importance is the reason for Lady Wimpole’s seeing to it that Admiral Wimpole has to spend quite a lot of time not all that far away from the North Pole.
    But nothing of all this accounts for the Wimpole ladies’ presence at Clusters now. An obscure backwoods peer is not likely to have much influence at the Admiralty, or on the cabinet or a prime minister. But Lady Wimpole is ambitious for her daughter as well as for her husband. This is why she accepted poor Lady Osprey’s weekend invitation when it came along. Why Honoria very readily agreed to accompany her will appear quite soon.
    ‘And so unexpected!’ Lady Wimpole said.
    ‘Of course it was that, Mama.’ Honoria Wimpole wedged rather a bulky book into a corner of her dressing-case. ‘You almost speak as if you were surprised at the thing’s surprisingness. Of course it was unexpected. Nobody expected Lord Osprey to be so disagreeably murdered –