The Main Chance (28 page)

For the first time Crystal went silent. She stood staring at a wall. I could have hit the nail on the head, Paula said to herself.

Warner's large hands were gripping the edge of his desk as though about to leap out of his chair. When he spoke, looking at Tweed with eyes which had no feeling in them, 'Who is this Mrs Carlyle?' he thundered.

`She was a lady of flexible morals.' He paused, careful not to mention Marshal. 'There is a direct link with your mother's murder since Mrs Carlyle was murdered using exactly the same kind of weapon. Do you know anyone here who has exceptional mechanical ability when it comes to moulding metal?'

`I don't quite follow you,' Warner said quietly.

`Someone with the ability and nerve to handle barbed wire, to have the equipment — protective gloves, strong cutters — and able to mould it into any shape required like a sculptor.'

`Snape; Warner said promptly.

`What are you doing?' Paula asked as they made their way down the main staircase.

`I want to accelerate the investigation. The best way to do that is to stir everyone up. Which I'll continue to do.'

`You do take risks. At one moment I thought it was going to end up as a physical struggle between you and Warner, plus a cat-fight between me and Crystal'

`That's what I mean by stirring things up.'

`We were on the edge of violence in that apartment,' Paula persisted.

`In other words, I stirred things up there. But when I felt the atmosphere was getting torrid I switched the subject.'

`I did notice that. Here's Lavinia.'

She stood at the foot of the staircase, smiling as always. She pointed to the library.

`I collected the papers from Snape's cabin myself. They're on the round table.'

`I'm most grateful,' Tweed responded. 'Do you read them?'

`Every day. Keeps me in contact with the outside world.' She smiled again. 'It reminds me that there is an outside world. I'll leave you in peace now.'

`If you can spare me a few minutes,' Tweed suggested, 'I would appreciate you and I having a quiet talk. In the library, if that would suit you.'

Lavinia laughed. She then curtseyed gracefully. 'My turn to be grilled, my lord. Is it an honour to be left to be the last? From what I've heard everyone else has been subjected to your eagle eye'

The three of them went into the library. As Lavinia sat at the round table Paula, tactfully, gathered up the pile of newspapers and headed towards the hall.

`I'm sure Tweed would prefer to interview you alone,' she said with a wicked smile. 'I'll take these to my apartment to see what, if anything, has been happening in the world.'

29

Tweed sat down in a chair facing Lavinia. He had never realized how narrow the table was. As he settled himself he felt his knees touch hers. He pulled back his chair.

`Excuse me.'

`You have never done anything which has in the least offended me.'

She was still wearing her white polo-necked jumper. She pulled it down tightly over her figure. Her long slim fingers were clasped lightly together, resting on the table. Her pool-like eyes gazed straight into his. Tweed forced himself to meet the hypnotic stare.

`Actually...' He cleared his throat, 'you are not the last to be intensively interviewed. I still have Snape.'

`Our perfect butler,' she replied ironically.

`From your tone I gather you don't trust him.'

`We all have our faults.' Her tone was becoming more husky. Her eyes never left his and he still couldn't read their expression. 'I can rely on him always to be near the hall if someone arrives.'

`What about his lunchtime?'

`He always warns me. He cooks his own meal in his cabin and eats it there.'

`He has no friends?'

`None that I know of.'

`What about everyone else? Surely with the two families someone has a friend?'

`I don't think so.' She lifted a hand and pushed her jet-black hair away from her face. 'Strange, isn't it?' Her smile was enticing.

Damn it! Tweed said to himself. She's playing with me. This was the kind of interview he'd never experienced before. In all other interrogations in his career he had broken through by now. He had a sudden idea that might upset her amazing self-control. She leaned closer to him as though aware he had at long last thought of something.

`Did you know Warner's late wife?'

`Moira was before I came here from Medfords. So I never met her.'

`I have been told that she died in a car crash at Hook's Corner. I have also been told her brakes had been tampered with, which could be why she went over the edge. Warner seems to have adjusted to the tragedy quickly.'

Now who told you that?' she asked with a smile.

`I'm asking the questions.'

`I have the impression we are having a pleasant conversation.'

Tweed was almost speechless. He forced himself to continue meeting her gaze, to detect a flicker. Nothing. It was as though she was controlling the interrogation. He sat up more erect and his voice was sharper.

`What about Marshal? You must know he plays around with any attractive available lady, then drops her for the next one. A kind of movable harem.'

`I love that last phrase.' She laughed. 'Yes, of course I know about Marshal's roving eye. It's common knowledge. Men are like that. At least some men. By no means all men.'

`Well, at least you're not cynical.'

`I didn't want you to think I was being personal.' Tweed's mind whirled. She had stopped him in his tracks. He made himself say something.

`There's been a second murder. A Mrs Carlyle at a cramped hamlet called Dodd's End. I'm wondering about Marshal. We have a definite connection — the same method was used that was employed on your grandmother.'

`I know.'

At last he had her. He became aware his clasped hands had been tightly clenched. He relaxed, leaned closer to her.

`So how do you know that?' he snapped.

`It's in the newspaper. Today's. Paula can show you.'

Tweed sighed inwardly. She had trumped his ace. Rapidly he listed the other occupants of the manor. While she waited Lavinia leant back and put her arms behind her neck, then stretched her body. A normal reaction, Tweed told himself quickly. She had remained previously in exactly her original position. It was a natural act of exercise. She then leant across the table, her hands lightly interlaced.

`I get the impression there is intense rivalry, verging on physical violence at times. What is their relationship? Crystal and Leo,' he said.

`Brother and sister.' She smiled to show she wasn't making fun of him. 'The trouble is Crystal is the younger, twenty-eight. She always thinks Leo gets more attention from her father. She doesn't like it.'

`Why not?'

`Because...' She smiled again. 'She expects plenty of attention from men.'

`At times Crystal seems almost savage.'

`That's simply her vitality.'

`Mrs Grandy,' he said suddenly. 'I admit I've overlooked her. Presumably Bella had her vetted before she employed her. Where does she come from?'

`No one knows. She appeared in Gladworth five years ago. She's a marvellous cook, always punctual, acts also as the housekeeper. At 5 a.m. a small group of girls come in from Gladworth. They clean the whole house, leave by 6.30 a.m., which is probably why you've never seen them. We are well organized here.'

`One last question, Lavinia.' Tweed paused to see her reaction.

He waited. She waited. Her blue eyes seemed to swallow him up. He was developing a tingling sensation. Thank God we're in a public room, he thought.

`One last question,' he repeated. 'You know these families and everyone else in this vast mansion better than I ever will' He paused. 'So who do you think is the most likely suspect responsible for the murders?'

As soon as he'd asked the question he regretted doing so. It was inappropriate, to say the least. She was a suspect as were all the others in the place. Why had he done it? Some invisible bond seemed to have brought them together.

`I've thought and thought about that,' she said slowly. Tut thinking as hard as I can I don't find myself pinpointing one person. Sorry.' She stood up, smoothed down her skirt. 'And now I think I'd better ask Paula to come down to see you with the newspapers.

He stood up to thank her. She was round the table and next to him in a flash. They were about the same height.

`Thank you for your patience and consideration,' she said. She kissed him briefly, full on the mouth. 'I do like you,' she said and strode on her long legs to the door.

30

Tweed felt exhausted. He walked over to the drinks cabinet, took out a glass and the cognac bottle. He poured himself a modest drink. He had not slept well. The faces of the different inhabitants of the manor had kept appearing. Which one?

The door opened quietly and Paula came in, the sheaf of newspapers tucked under her arm. She paused as Tweed turned, sipped at his drink. She chuckled.

`She road-blocked you, didn't she?'

`The most unsatisfactory interrogation I've ever conducted. Yes, she road-blocked me every time,' he admitted as he sat at the table.

`I thought she would,' Paula observed, sitting opposite him. 'She's the cleverest person living here. Shall I wait before I show you the papers?'

`No. My head has cleared. Show me them now.' `Typically, Lavinia arranged the papers in date order, so the most recent comes last …'

Tweed took the pile of newspapers from Paula and began to skim through the front pages of each paper. The headlines were huge.

RICHEST BANKER IN WORLD HORRIFICALLY MURDERED

MAIN CHANCE'S BELLA MAIN: THROAT BRUTALLY SLASHED

LADY OF NIGHT MURDERED BY SAME METHOD AS BELLA MAIN

`Oh Lord,' Tweed muttered, 'and now we have Drew Franklin after us. How the devil did he find out so quickly about Mrs Carlyle? In three days he's blown the lid off the case. We can expect trouble from London.'

The phone rang. Tweed glanced at Paula, picked it up. It was Lavinia, calm as ever despite the news she had to impart.

`Commander Buchanan is on the line. He does sound a bit worked up. I'll put you through then get off the line.'

`Yes?' said Tweed.

`What the devil's going on down there?' Buchanan shouted. 'Have you see the papers, the headlines? All hell is breaking loose up here. I've had a cabinet minister on the phone — he is probably a discreet depositor in the Main Chance. He urged me to take you off the case, to hand it over to Chief Inspector Hammer. I refused his request, explained you now knew more about the case than anyone. But have you a suspect? Can you break the case in the next twenty-four hours? The City are getting nervous. Somehow they have picked up a rumour that a fabulously rich foreigner is going to bid a fortune for the bank. That would put whoever it is in a position to use Main Chance to buy up some of the big British banks. This case is now becoming international. Tweed, are you still there?'

`Yes,' Tweed replied calmly. 'Have you got the spleen out of your system? I've sent my Director, Howard, reports early in the mornings. You know he never gets to bed early. And he's good at soothing down politicians, so suggest he has a chat with this anonymous cabinet minister. I have no more to say. Thank you for the call.'

"There's a lot of detail in the text,' Paula told Tweed. `Bob Newman, a top reporter, is a friend of Franklin's. Maybe he could get Drew to go easy.'

`Not possible,' said Newman who had entered, had heard her suggestion. 'Drew is a friend of mine but basically he's a reporter. He won't soft-pedal a big story like this for anyone. He's a real professional.'

`We're in a real mess then,' Paula commented.

`No, we're not,' Tweed said decisively. 'The problem is still the same. Clearly Drew has an informant here, so who is it? Someone Drew offered a tempting sum of money to tell him when given a hint of the scope of the story.'