arrived without an appointment.' His tone was disapproving. 'She will send him packing very shortly. This is the library.'
They entered another large room, the walls lined with bookcases, the shelves neatly stacked with leather- bound volumes. In an arch-shaped opening a log fire blazed and Paula welcomed the warmth: she was already finding the mansion claustrophobic. The only illumination came from the fire. Hardly any light from outside penetrated the room through the small windows.
A tall man, probably in his late forties, hurried across to meet them. He wore an expensive blue pinstriped suit; his shirt was pristine white, his tie Chanel. White cuffs decorated with gold links protruded from his sleeves. He was smiling and there was something dominant in his jutting jaw. `I am Marshal Main, managing director of this outfit. You are the most interesting visitors we've had in a long time.' `Why?' asked Tweed as Main shook hands with both of them. `What can we offer you in the way of refreshment? I think just about anything is available.' `Coffee would be pleasant,' Tweed replied. `Me too, please', added Paula. `How do you like it, sir?' enquired Snape, standing behind them as erect as a sentry. `Black as sin. So does Paula.' `Well -' Main burst out laughing – 'you're in the right place. Plenty of sin round here. Come and sit down.' He took Paula's arm, squeezed it, staring at her. She didn't like it.
As Snape left, closing the door silently, Main escorted them to an antique table circled with four armchairs near the fire. Paula was watching a woman further down the library. She was standing behind a hard-backed chair, listening quietly.
She was in her late thirties, Paula estimated, and extremely attractive. Slim, she had long beautifully coiffeured black hair reaching her shoulders. Her eyebrows were thick and below them her features were perfectly sculpted. Her eyes were large, her nose was straight and just long enough above a firm mouth and determined chin. She smiled at Paula, who immediately smiled back.
Main, who seemed to miss nothing, jumped up swiftly. All his movements were agilely quick. `Oh, my God! I'm forgetting my manners. Lavinia, do come and join us.' He slid a spare armchair in between Tweed's and Paula's. 'This is Lavinia, my daughter. She's my heart's desire.'
Tweed thought the words odd as Lavinia settled herself next to him. She smiled, gazed at her father. `Just so long as you don't try and carry that too far.' `Why?' Tweed again asked Main. `What?' he replied, puzzled `Mr Tweed is referring to your remark that we have the most interesting visitors we've had in a long time. Probably he's wondering if you say that to everyone who comes here,' she chaffed him in her appealing soft voice. `Stuff and nonsense!' he barked, briefly annoyed. Turning to Tweed he exuded amiability again. 'Because you are Deputy Director of the SIS – and you've brought with you the lady you place most trust in. Also I can tell already you both have exceptional intellects and brainpower.' `Bella always does her homework before she agrees to meet here,' Lavinia said. `She always tries to counter me,' Main said irritably. `I just like accuracy,' Lavinia told him. `Which is why,' Main told them, 'she is the chief accountant.
Snape appeared with a silver tray with the coffee. Placing small mats in front of Tweed and Paula, he poured from a large silver coffee pot. The china was Royal Doulton. Snape looked at Lavinia. `Nothing for me,' she told him.
Snape had just left silently when the room exploded. The door was flung open, banging back against the panelled wall. A young woman flew into the library. Late twenties, Paula estimated. Long red hair, a pretty face with sensuous lips and staring green eyes. Lavinia leaned close to Paula, whispered. `Sorry about this. She's a bit wild.'
Paula turned round. The redhead wore a low-cut top held up by thin shoulder straps. She had a good figure and wore well-pressed jeans. Paula found herself comparing her attire with Lavinia's: she wore a brown skirt which just reached her knees, and above that was a dark velvet jacket, half-zipped up. Underneath was a white blouse buttoned up to the neck. One hell of a contrast with what had just blown in.
The redhead darted forward, placed both hands on Tweed's shoulders. She was smiling broadly. Her voice was educated and husky as she spoke, hands still resting on Tweed. `Since no one had the manners to invite me to the party, and no one's introducing me, I'll introduce myself. I am Crystal.' Her voice, aggressive when she arrived, was now quite calm. 'Daughter of the managing director. Not this one.' She glared at Marshal Main. 'My father is Warner Chance. Guess he'll be down in a minute.' `Get yourself a chair, Crystal,' Lavinia invited. 'Join us.' `I'm going to show Mr Tweed Pike's Peak. It's unique.' She bent down, her mouth close to Tweed's ear. 'Only view is from upstairs. A quick trip.'
Tweed stood up. He was curious to see more of the mansion and guessed his only opportunity was to accompany Crystal. `Do excuse me. This sounds a rare sight.'
He followed her to the door which had been closed by Snape. They crossed the hall after Crystal had silently closed the library door behind them. At the rear of the hall she opened double doors with a flourish, stood back. `It really is rather impressive,' she said in her calm voice.
He had to agree. About twenty feet beyond, a wide magnificent staircase with Elizabethan-style banisters mounted to the first floor. High up was a landing and here the staircase split to the right and to the left. When they reached the landing Crystal led the way up the right-hand section. They turned off a spacious landing and continued down a corridor with a window at the far end. She stopped by a door, took out a key, unlocked the door.
Tweed walked in ahead of her, then stopped. He was standing inside a bedroom with a large canopy bed. Behind him he heard her lock the door. Swinging round, he found her close to him, grinning. His voice was grim as he spoke to her. `So where's the view of Pike's Peak?' `That comes later.'
She did two things at once. Her hands slipped the shoulder straps down over her shoulders and arms. Her foot slid between his, her leg shoved against his knees. Caught off balance, he fell back on the bed and she was on top of him, speaking at machine-gun speed. `I like a mature man. The kids have no finesse!'
Her full breasts were half-exposed. She was clawing at his clothes. He didn't fool with her. His hands grasped her bare shoulders, his grip firm. She was strong but he was stronger. He sat up, jerked her hard, pushed her off the bed, stood on the floor himself. A brief expression of disbelief crossed her face. She took a step towards him and he slapped her hard across the side of her face. She blinked. `I liked that,' she said. `Get yourself properly dressed. And fast!'
He walked to a cheval mirror, straightened up his clothes. Behind him she was slipping the straps back into their original position. He turned round. `Your top was higher. Deal with it.'
He walked to the door while she obeyed him. He had turned the key when she ran up alongside him, rested a hand lightly on his arm. She shook her head, then spoke in a calm voice. `Let me check the corridor. Make sure Snoop isn't prowling.' `Snoop?' `Snape. They got his name wrong. He snoops. When I am away I lock my door, take the key with me. Give me a sec.'
Unlocking the door, she strolled out slowly. She looked in both directions. Then she beckoned to him. `Coast is clear.' She went on talking as she locked the door. 'I don't expect you to believe me but it wasn't my reputation I was bothered about. It was yours.' `I believe you,' he said, not wanting to start her off again. `You'd better see the view quickly. Give you something to talk about when we get back to the library.'
He glanced at her as they walked, a foot's space between them, to the window. She was so calm now, a different woman from what he had experienced in the bedroom. They reached the window and he stared.
The solid Forest stretched half a mile away from the extension he'd observed when coming up the drive. Then it stopped. Beyond it reared up a cone- shaped peak of sheer rock. It reminded Tweed of a miniature Matterhorn. He was so hypnotized by the spectacle he stood gazing at it until Crystal plucked at his arm. `Maybe we ought to get back downstairs now. Any longer and that so-and-so Marshal will start wondering. Considering his way of life.' `You're right.'
As they made their way back to the staircase and down it Crystal began talking in the same calm tone. `Apparently, umpteen years ago a man called Pike owned the land that strange thing is on. Hence it came to be called Pike's Peak. The best hotel in Gladworth carries its name.' `Gladworth?'
She sat down on a carpeted tread and Tweed sat beside her. He reached to her back, tucked her top into her jeans. `Thanks,' she said. 'That wouldn't have looked good. Now, Gladworth. Motor down our drive. Get to the gates and you turn left. First place you come to is Gladworth, a very pretty village.' `I think we'd better get back to the library,' Tweed said, standing up.
They were all there, still gathered round the antique table. In front of Marshal on the table was a bottle of whisky. He had a half-full glass in his hands and he drank the rest as they settled round the table. Paula smiled at Crystal, who smiled back. Tweed began to speak.
