He bent down to pick up a long deep grey metal box, lifted the lid. The box was empty, but the insides were covered with scratches. Newman gestured towards it. `We found this in a small shed outside Snape's cabin. We borrowed it without asking him. He wasn't there at the time.' `So,' Paula said thoughtfully, 'the murderer had metal clippers. First to get his raw material, then to convert them into those awful collars. But where did he obtain the wooden handles?' `We may never know,' said Marler.
Returning to the manor they heard a lot of excited chatter from the main library. Guided part of the way by Newman, Tweed and Paula entered by the back door, ignoring Mrs Grandy's baleful look.
Inside the library was a long square table covered with green baize. On one side was a roulette wheel with Lavinia standing opposite the three players as she acted as croupier.
The three players facing her were Crystal, Marshal and Warner. Crystal had a few chips in front of her to continue playing. Marshal had a fairly large pile. Warner had the largest pile.
Standing next to Paula and Marler, Tweed ignored the state of the game. He had learned long ago it was the faces you watched since this could give you a clue to character.
The game went on for a while without anyone risking much. Then the atmosphere changed, became tense. Crystal laid all she had left on black. Red came up as the ball settled in the slot on the wheel. `Silly game,' she burst out. `Of course it's silly,' Lavinia said. 'It's worse when you have bankers gambling. Shouldn't be allowed.' `Don't start that again,' Marshal shouted. go on saying it until you stop for good. It's wrong.' `Don't you tell me what's wrong. You're an amateur at everything,' Marshal bellowed.
He pushed his entire pile of chips forward. 'All on the red.'
Just before Lavinia set the wheel in motion Warner pushed his own huge pile of chips forward. `All on the black,' he said quietly.
The wheel spun, seemed to take forever to slow down, then almost stopped. The ball hovered on the red, then slipped over and settled on the black. Lavinia used her rake to transfer Marshal's chips to add to Warner's pile. `We need fresh air in here!' Marshal yelled.
Lavinia walked quickly to the window, opened it wide. She was followed by Marshal who snatched up the wheel, hurled it out of the window. They all heard it shatter on the terrace. `Kids' game,' Marshal shouted as he stormed out of the room.
Warner remained seated. He hadn't moved a muscle or showed any reaction during the game, let alone said anything. Now he turned and his glance caught Paula's. Their eyes met. As Warner's large rock-like head gazed at her he had a strange smile on his face. It was the first time Paula had seen him smile since she'd arrived. It was a peculiar smile, she thought, as his gravelly voice rumbled, 'Winner takes all.'
21
`We're driving down to Seacove in Cornwall today.'
Tweed had waited in the corridor for Paula to emerge from her apartment. From her expression he knew he had taken her by surprise. `Why are we doing that? I suppose that's why you told me last night to be ready for breakfast at seven- thirty. But why are we going all that way?'
Tweed explained. Later the previous day, after Marshal had hurled out the roulette wheel then stormed out, he had invited Tweed to join him in the smaller library outside Bella's study.
Marshal had recovered, had been in his usual buoyant mood. He had urged Tweed, with Paula, to join him in a trip down to Seacove. Tweed had agreed at once. `Why?' Paula asked again. `Because I need to see Marshal – what he is like, away from this manor where the atmosphere is becoming claustrophobic.' `I need something warm for going down there, don't I?' she asked after eyeing the heavy knee-length overcoat folded over his arm. `I'd advise it. I'm going down now. See you at breakfast.'
After the meal, Tweed stood with Paula by the Audi at the back of the manor. She took his arm and squeezed it. `Do you mind if I drive?' `I was going to suggest you did…'
Driving round to the terrace they found the Rolls parked, Marshal at the wheel, Snape holding open a rear passenger door.
Paula parked behind the Rolls, the driver's door flew open and Marshal stormed back to Paula's open window. He glared as he spoke. `What the devil do you think Snape's holding open the rear door for?' `I have no idea,' she replied with a smile. `Because,' he rasped, 'you were supposed to be travelling down with me. Isn't a Rolls good enough for you? What's happened to the beat-up old Merc? Conked out at last?' `It's Newman's car and he's using it today,' she said with another smile. 'And I prefer independent transport. So does Tweed.' `If you don't follow me closely you'll never get there…' `You handled that well,' Tweed said quietly as they drove away.
The gates were opening as the Rolls approached them. Tweed glanced back, saw Lavinia in the doorway. She had opened the gates and waved. Tweed waved back.
Driving along the narrow lane to Gladworth, Paula kept her distance behind the Rolls, which was roaring along, headlights on blinding full beam, horn honking non-stop. `I won't lose him,' she promised Tweed, 'but I need space. Then if he hits something I've time to pull up.' `Very sensible.'
The Rolls shot through Gladworth's High Street and a pedestrian had to jump clear. Marshal shouted something at her and then Gladworth was behind them. `Lavinia told me,' Paula remarked, 'that a technical team had photographed Crystal's wardrobe and taken away those two beastly collars. Will they arrest her?' `Not a chance. Not enough evidence. Her fingerprints were neither on the collars nor on the door knobs.' `Are we getting anywhere with the case? Any strong suspects?' `Not really. Yet. Paula, do you mind if I have a nap?' 'I'll be as quiet as the proverbial mouse.'
Tweed relaxed, clasped his hands, closed his eyes.
Paula knew he was not actually sleeping: he was taking the opportunity to sift all the information he'd acquired so far, playing back the conversations he'd had at Hengistbury, searching for something odd, an inconsistency.
They made good progress. The Rolls was going full out; Paula kept within the speed limits but never lost Marshal. She was enjoying herself as they passed from one county to another. The scenery kept changing. Rolling hill country, long flat plains, copses perched on hilltops. The sun continued to blaze down.
They had covered a lot of ground when the weather changed dramatically. The sun vanished. A fierce wind blew up, menacing low thunderclouds filled the sky. Tweed opened his eyes. They were driving along a wide stretch of road when Marshal signalled, pulled up at the side. Paula lowered the window she had earlier raised when the wind started blowing in. She angled the Audi alongside the Rolls, where Marshal had lowered his window on the passenger side. `Isn't this just wonderful,' he bellowed. `What is?' Paula asked. `Stormy weather! Just what we need to demonstrate what the Star Sprite can do in a rough sea.' `I'm so glad someone is pleased,' she retorted. `You'll both come out with me aboard her. You'll love it.' `No, we won't,' Tweed said firmly. 'I hate the sea and Paula will stay with me on terra firma.' `Wimps!' yelled Marshal.
He had kept his engine running and suddenly he took off without warning. Paula gave Tweed a look and drove on, seeing Marshal in the distance. Soon they were driving through narrow lanes, only room for one car, with steep banks rising high above them. Devon, she thought. Godawful motoring country. They left it behind fairly soon and entered a quite different landscape. Tweed sat up straight to have a good look. `Cornwall,' he said.
Inland great stretches of rugged rocky ridges headed westward for miles. Nothing grew. It was a desolate and forbidding desert. Then to the north he saw the sea not far away below them, a raging tumult of giant waves, rolling higher and higher until they hit the shore in a series of thunderous explosions.
They were heading down a rough road towards the sea, had almost reached it when the Rolls swung up onto a small headland. The car stopped, Marshal stepped out, flung his arms wide apart in a theatrical gesture. `Paradise!' he shouted against the howl of the wind when Paula stopped the Audi and they joined him as Tweed struggled into his overcoat. `One word for it,' Paula commented. 'What's that?' She pointed to a long flat area inside a wide bowl with a shed nearly. A windsock was streaming out, parallel to the ground. `Bloody private airfield. Not used much, thank God. I tried to have it closed down but the council wallahs refused. Follow me down this path and watch your footing.'
They arrived at a point a few yards above the pebble beach and Paula stared. At three different levels, but built almost on top of each other, were rows of white stone cottages. Below another huge wave trundled in. `This,'
