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The Red House Mystery by A. A. Milne
TO
JOHN VINE MILNE
MY DEAR FATHER,
Like all really nice people, you have a weakness for detective stories, and feel that there are not
enough of them. So, after all that you have done for me, the least that I can do for you is to write
you one. Here it is: with more gratitude and affection than I can well put down here.
A.A.M.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
I. MRS. STEVENS IS FRIGHTENED
II. MR. GILLINGHAM GETS OUT AT THE WRONG STATION
III. TWO MEN AND A BODY
IV. THE BROTHER FROM AUSTRALIA
V. MR. GILLINGHAM CHOOSES A NEW PROFESSION
VI. OUTSIDE OR INSIDE?
VII. PORTRAIT OF A GENTLEMAN
VIII. "DO YOU FOLLOW ME, WATSON?"
IX. POSSIBILITIES OF A CROQUET SET
X. MR. GILLINGHAM TALKS NONSENSE
XI. THE REVEREND THEODORE USSHER
XII. A SHADOW ON THE WALL
XIII. THE OPEN WINDOW
XIV. MR. BEVERLEY QUALIFIES FOR THE STAGE
XV. MRS. NORBURY CONFIDES IN DEAR MR. GILLINGHAM
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XVI. GETTING READY FOR THE NIGHT
XVII. MR. BEVERLEY TAKES THE WATER
XVIII. GUESS-WORK
XIX. THE INQUEST
XX. MR. BEVERLEY IS TACTFUL
XXI. CAYLEY'S APOLOGY
XXII. MR. BEVERLEY MOVES ON
CHAPTER I
Mrs. Stevens is Frightened
In the drowsy heat of the summer afternoon the Red House was taking its siesta. There was a
lazy murmur of bees in the flower-borders, a gentle cooing of pigeons in the tops of the elms.
From distant lawns came the whir of a mowing-machine, that most restful of all country sounds;
making ease the sweeter in that it is taken while others are working.
It was the hour when even those whose business it is to attend to the wants of others have a
moment or two for themselves. In the housekeeper's room Audrey Stevens, the pretty parlour-
maid, re-trimmed her best hat, and talked idly to her aunt, the cook-housekeeper of Mr. Mark
Ablett's bachelor home.
"For Joe?" said Mrs. Stevens placidly, her eye on the hat. Audrey nodded. She took a pin from
her mouth, found a place in the hat for it, and said, "He likes a bit of pink."
"I don't say I mind a bit of pink myself," said her aunt. "Joe Turner isn't the only one."
"It isn't everybody's colour," said Audrey, holding the hat out at arm's length, and regarding it
thoughtfully. "Stylish, isn't it?"
"Oh, it'll suit you all right, and it would have suited me at your age. A bit too dressy for me now,
though wearing better than some other people, I daresay. I was never the one to pretend to be
what I wasn't. If I'm fifty-five, I'm fifty-five --that's what I say."
"Fifty-eight, isn't it, auntie?"
"I was just giving that as an example," said Mrs. Stevens with great dignity.
Audrey threaded a needle, held her hand out and looked at her nails critically for a moment, and
then began to sew.
"Funny thing that about Mr. Mark's brother. Fancy not seeing your brother for fifteen years." She
gave a self-conscious laugh and went on, "Wonder what I should do if I didn't see Joe for fifteen
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years."
"As I told you all this morning," said her aunt, "I've been here five years, and never heard of a
brother. I could say that before everybody if I was going to die to-morrow. There's been no
brother here while I've been here."
"You could have knocked me down with a feather when he spoke about him at breakfast this
morning. I didn't hear what went before, naturally, but they was all talking about the brother
when I went in--now what was it I went in for--hot milk, was it, or toast?--well, they was all
talking, and Mr. Mark turns to me, and says--you know his way--'Stevens,' he says, 'my brother
is coming to see me this afternoon; I'm expecting him about three,' he says. 'Show him into the
office,' he says, just like that. 'Yes, sir,' I says quite quietly, but I was never so surprised in my
life, not knowing he had a brother. 'My brother from Australia,' he says--there, I'd forgotten that.
From Australia."
"Well, he may have been in Australia," said Mrs. Stevens, judicially; "I can't say for that, not
knowing the country; but what I do say is he's never been here. Not while I've been here, and
that's five years."
"Well, but, auntie, he hasn't been here for fifteen years. I heard Mr. Mark telling Mr. Cayley.
'Fifteen years,' he says. Mr. Cayley having arst him when his brother was last in England. Mr.
Cayley knew of him, I heard him telling Mr. Beverley, but didn't know when he was last in
England--see? So that's why he arst Mr. Mark."
"I'm not saying anything about fifteen years, Audrey. I can only speak for what I know, and that's
five years Whitsuntide. I can take my oath he's not set foot in the house since five years
Whitsuntide. And if he's been in Australia, as you say, well, I daresay he's had his reasons."
"What reasons?" said Audrey lightly.
"Never mind what reasons. Being in the place of a mother to you, since your poor mother died, I
say this, Audrey--when a gentleman goes to Australia, he has his reasons. And when he stays
in Australia fifteen years, as Mr. Mark says, and as I know for myself for five years, he has his
reasons. And a respectably brought-up girl doesn't ask what reasons."
"Got into trouble, I suppose," said Audrey carelessly. "They were saying at breakfast he'd been
a wild one. Debts. I'm glad Joe isn't like that. He's got fifteen pounds in the post-office savings'
bank. Did I tell you?"
But there was not to be any more talk of Joe Turner that afternoon. The ringing of a bell brought
Audrey to her feet--no longer Audrey, but now Stevens. She arranged her cap in front of the
glass.
"There, that's the front door," she said. "That's him. 'Show him into the office,' said Mr. Mark. I
suppose he doesn't want the other ladies and gentlemen to see him. Well, they're all out at their
golf, anyhow--Wonder if he's going to stay--P'raps he's brought back a lot of gold from
Australia--I might hear something about Australia, because if anybody can get gold there, then I
don't say but what Joe and I--"
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"Now, now, get on, Audrey."
"Just going, darling." She went out.
To anyone who had just walked down the drive in the August sun, the open door of the Red
House revealed a delightfully inviting hall, of which even the mere sight was cooling. It was a big
low-roofed, oak-beamed place, with cream-washed walls and diamond-paned windows, blue-
curtained. On the right and left were doors leading into other living-rooms, but on the side which
faced you as you came in were windows again, looking on to a small grass court, and from open
windows to open windows such air as there was played gently. The staircase went up in broad,
low steps along the right-hand wall, and, turning to the left, led you along a gallery, which ran
across the width of the hail, to your bedroom. That is, if you were going to stay the night. Mr.
Robert Ablett's intentions in this matter were as yet unknown.
As Audrey came across the hall she gave a little start as she saw Mr. Cayley suddenly, sitting
unobtrusively in a seat beneath one of the front windows, reading. No reason why he shouldn't
be there; certainly a much cooler place than the golf-links on such a day; but somehow there
was a deserted air about the house that afternoon, as if all the guests were outside, or--perhaps
the wisest place of all--up in their bedrooms, sleeping. Mr. Cayley, the master's cousin, was a
surprise; and, having given a little exclamation as she came suddenly upon him, she blushed,
and said, "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir, I didn't see you at first," and he looked up from his book
and smiled at her. An attractive smile it was on that big ugly face. "Such a gentleman, Mr.
Cayley," she thought to herself as she went on, and wondered what the master would do
without him. If this brother, for instance, had to be bundled back to Australia, it was Mr. Cayley
who would do most of the bundling.
"So this is Mr. Robert," said Audrey to herself, as she came in sight of the visitor.
She told her aunt afterwards that she would have known him anywhere for Mr. Mark's brother,
but she would have said that in any event. Actually she was surprised. Dapper little Mark, with
his neat pointed beard and his carefully curled moustache; with his quick-darting eyes, always
moving from one to the other of any company he was in, to register one more smile to his credit
when he had said a good thing, one more expectant look when he was only waiting his turn to
say it; he was a very different man from this rough-looking, ill-dressed colonial, staring at her so
loweringly.
"I want to see Mr. Mark Ablett," he growled. It sounded almost like a threat.
Audrey recovered herself and smiled reassuringly at him. She had a smile for everybody.
"Yes, sir. He is expecting you, if you will come this way."
"Oh! So you know who I am, eh?"
"Mr. Robert Ablett?"
"Ay, that's right. So he's expecting me, eh? He'll be glad to see me, eh?"
"If you will come this way, sir," said Audrey primly.
https://www.fulltextarchive.com
The Red House Mystery by A. A. Milne
TO
JOHN VINE MILNE
MY DEAR FATHER,
Like all really nice people, you have a weakness for detective stories, and feel that there are not
enough of them. So, after all that you have done for me, the least that I can do for you is to write
you one. Here it is: with more gratitude and affection than I can well put down here.
A.A.M.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
I. MRS. STEVENS IS FRIGHTENED
II. MR. GILLINGHAM GETS OUT AT THE WRONG STATION
III. TWO MEN AND A BODY
IV. THE BROTHER FROM AUSTRALIA
V. MR. GILLINGHAM CHOOSES A NEW PROFESSION
VI. OUTSIDE OR INSIDE?
VII. PORTRAIT OF A GENTLEMAN
VIII. "DO YOU FOLLOW ME, WATSON?"
IX. POSSIBILITIES OF A CROQUET SET
X. MR. GILLINGHAM TALKS NONSENSE
XI. THE REVEREND THEODORE USSHER
XII. A SHADOW ON THE WALL
XIII. THE OPEN WINDOW
XIV. MR. BEVERLEY QUALIFIES FOR THE STAGE
XV. MRS. NORBURY CONFIDES IN DEAR MR. GILLINGHAM
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XVI. GETTING READY FOR THE NIGHT
XVII. MR. BEVERLEY TAKES THE WATER
XVIII. GUESS-WORK
XIX. THE INQUEST
XX. MR. BEVERLEY IS TACTFUL
XXI. CAYLEY'S APOLOGY
XXII. MR. BEVERLEY MOVES ON
CHAPTER I
Mrs. Stevens is Frightened
In the drowsy heat of the summer afternoon the Red House was taking its siesta. There was a
lazy murmur of bees in the flower-borders, a gentle cooing of pigeons in the tops of the elms.
From distant lawns came the whir of a mowing-machine, that most restful of all country sounds;
making ease the sweeter in that it is taken while others are working.
It was the hour when even those whose business it is to attend to the wants of others have a
moment or two for themselves. In the housekeeper's room Audrey Stevens, the pretty parlour-
maid, re-trimmed her best hat, and talked idly to her aunt, the cook-housekeeper of Mr. Mark
Ablett's bachelor home.
"For Joe?" said Mrs. Stevens placidly, her eye on the hat. Audrey nodded. She took a pin from
her mouth, found a place in the hat for it, and said, "He likes a bit of pink."
"I don't say I mind a bit of pink myself," said her aunt. "Joe Turner isn't the only one."
"It isn't everybody's colour," said Audrey, holding the hat out at arm's length, and regarding it
thoughtfully. "Stylish, isn't it?"
"Oh, it'll suit you all right, and it would have suited me at your age. A bit too dressy for me now,
though wearing better than some other people, I daresay. I was never the one to pretend to be
what I wasn't. If I'm fifty-five, I'm fifty-five --that's what I say."
"Fifty-eight, isn't it, auntie?"
"I was just giving that as an example," said Mrs. Stevens with great dignity.
Audrey threaded a needle, held her hand out and looked at her nails critically for a moment, and
then began to sew.
"Funny thing that about Mr. Mark's brother. Fancy not seeing your brother for fifteen years." She
gave a self-conscious laugh and went on, "Wonder what I should do if I didn't see Joe for fifteen
,Full Text Archive
https://www.fulltextarchive.com
years."
"As I told you all this morning," said her aunt, "I've been here five years, and never heard of a
brother. I could say that before everybody if I was going to die to-morrow. There's been no
brother here while I've been here."
"You could have knocked me down with a feather when he spoke about him at breakfast this
morning. I didn't hear what went before, naturally, but they was all talking about the brother
when I went in--now what was it I went in for--hot milk, was it, or toast?--well, they was all
talking, and Mr. Mark turns to me, and says--you know his way--'Stevens,' he says, 'my brother
is coming to see me this afternoon; I'm expecting him about three,' he says. 'Show him into the
office,' he says, just like that. 'Yes, sir,' I says quite quietly, but I was never so surprised in my
life, not knowing he had a brother. 'My brother from Australia,' he says--there, I'd forgotten that.
From Australia."
"Well, he may have been in Australia," said Mrs. Stevens, judicially; "I can't say for that, not
knowing the country; but what I do say is he's never been here. Not while I've been here, and
that's five years."
"Well, but, auntie, he hasn't been here for fifteen years. I heard Mr. Mark telling Mr. Cayley.
'Fifteen years,' he says. Mr. Cayley having arst him when his brother was last in England. Mr.
Cayley knew of him, I heard him telling Mr. Beverley, but didn't know when he was last in
England--see? So that's why he arst Mr. Mark."
"I'm not saying anything about fifteen years, Audrey. I can only speak for what I know, and that's
five years Whitsuntide. I can take my oath he's not set foot in the house since five years
Whitsuntide. And if he's been in Australia, as you say, well, I daresay he's had his reasons."
"What reasons?" said Audrey lightly.
"Never mind what reasons. Being in the place of a mother to you, since your poor mother died, I
say this, Audrey--when a gentleman goes to Australia, he has his reasons. And when he stays
in Australia fifteen years, as Mr. Mark says, and as I know for myself for five years, he has his
reasons. And a respectably brought-up girl doesn't ask what reasons."
"Got into trouble, I suppose," said Audrey carelessly. "They were saying at breakfast he'd been
a wild one. Debts. I'm glad Joe isn't like that. He's got fifteen pounds in the post-office savings'
bank. Did I tell you?"
But there was not to be any more talk of Joe Turner that afternoon. The ringing of a bell brought
Audrey to her feet--no longer Audrey, but now Stevens. She arranged her cap in front of the
glass.
"There, that's the front door," she said. "That's him. 'Show him into the office,' said Mr. Mark. I
suppose he doesn't want the other ladies and gentlemen to see him. Well, they're all out at their
golf, anyhow--Wonder if he's going to stay--P'raps he's brought back a lot of gold from
Australia--I might hear something about Australia, because if anybody can get gold there, then I
don't say but what Joe and I--"
, Full Text Archive
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"Now, now, get on, Audrey."
"Just going, darling." She went out.
To anyone who had just walked down the drive in the August sun, the open door of the Red
House revealed a delightfully inviting hall, of which even the mere sight was cooling. It was a big
low-roofed, oak-beamed place, with cream-washed walls and diamond-paned windows, blue-
curtained. On the right and left were doors leading into other living-rooms, but on the side which
faced you as you came in were windows again, looking on to a small grass court, and from open
windows to open windows such air as there was played gently. The staircase went up in broad,
low steps along the right-hand wall, and, turning to the left, led you along a gallery, which ran
across the width of the hail, to your bedroom. That is, if you were going to stay the night. Mr.
Robert Ablett's intentions in this matter were as yet unknown.
As Audrey came across the hall she gave a little start as she saw Mr. Cayley suddenly, sitting
unobtrusively in a seat beneath one of the front windows, reading. No reason why he shouldn't
be there; certainly a much cooler place than the golf-links on such a day; but somehow there
was a deserted air about the house that afternoon, as if all the guests were outside, or--perhaps
the wisest place of all--up in their bedrooms, sleeping. Mr. Cayley, the master's cousin, was a
surprise; and, having given a little exclamation as she came suddenly upon him, she blushed,
and said, "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir, I didn't see you at first," and he looked up from his book
and smiled at her. An attractive smile it was on that big ugly face. "Such a gentleman, Mr.
Cayley," she thought to herself as she went on, and wondered what the master would do
without him. If this brother, for instance, had to be bundled back to Australia, it was Mr. Cayley
who would do most of the bundling.
"So this is Mr. Robert," said Audrey to herself, as she came in sight of the visitor.
She told her aunt afterwards that she would have known him anywhere for Mr. Mark's brother,
but she would have said that in any event. Actually she was surprised. Dapper little Mark, with
his neat pointed beard and his carefully curled moustache; with his quick-darting eyes, always
moving from one to the other of any company he was in, to register one more smile to his credit
when he had said a good thing, one more expectant look when he was only waiting his turn to
say it; he was a very different man from this rough-looking, ill-dressed colonial, staring at her so
loweringly.
"I want to see Mr. Mark Ablett," he growled. It sounded almost like a threat.
Audrey recovered herself and smiled reassuringly at him. She had a smile for everybody.
"Yes, sir. He is expecting you, if you will come this way."
"Oh! So you know who I am, eh?"
"Mr. Robert Ablett?"
"Ay, that's right. So he's expecting me, eh? He'll be glad to see me, eh?"
"If you will come this way, sir," said Audrey primly.
