'Would you believe it? My fool of a chauffeur has taken my car to the mechanic way north of the bridge beyond the Gorge. Didn't consult me – just left a note. I'll have his guts for garters!'
'Where were you going?' Tweed enquired.
'Just back to Hobart House. But it's one hell of a walk.'
'We're going there in my car,' Tweed told him. 'Give you a lift.'
'There are some gentlemen left in this mess of a world,' he growled. 'I accept your offer gratefully.'
Paula opened the front passenger door of the Audi, gestured with a smile. He quietened down, gave her a grateful warm smile, climbed aboard as she closed the door and parked herself in the back seat as Tweed took over behind the wheel.
As they were approaching the country road turn-off to Hobart House they saw Mrs Grout watering plant pots placed on either side of her red front door. Bullerton pointed at her and snorted contemptuously.
'Barmy old bag. Crocodiles! '
SEVENTEEN
Margot opened the front door, Bullerton pushed past her, calling over his shoulder that he had a pile of work waiting in his study. Margot had to jump aside to avoid being knocked over.
'Good morning, Margot,' Tweed greeted her with a warm smile. 'I need to talk to just you and Sable.'
'Do we have to drag in Sable?'
'I do need to talk to the two of you together. No one else present.'
'OK. Sable's in the library. Not in the best of moods, so life is normal,' she concluded with a mischievous grin. As they reached the library door she paused. 'That was catty of me. I erase the remark.. .'
She was smartly turned out, wearing white roll-neck jumper, a checked pleated skirt, sensible flat-heeled shoes.
'Company, Sable,' she announced as they entered.
Scowling, Sable sat at a desk with papers spread untidily over its surface, her blonde head bent over them.
'Tell them to go to hell,' she rasped. Tm busy with university homework.' Then she looked up, saw who the visitors were. Her attitude was transformed. The scowl was replaced by a flashing welcoming smile. Jumping up, she ran to Tweed, threw both arms round him, hugged a little too passionately, watching Margot over his shoulder.
Releasing him she held out her hand to Paula, squeezed it warmly. Leading them both to a couch, she ignored Margot. She was taking control.
'Drinks?' she offered as they sat down. 'I'm on vodka – helps me plough through dull work. Vodka for both of you? Or coffee or tea?' She glared at Margot. 'What are you hanging around for? They've come to see me.'
'Actually,' Tweed said firmly, 'I need to talk to both of you together. And I'd like a small glass of Chardonnay, if that's possible.'
'For me too,' Paula said quickly.
'Coming up…'
Sable was more daringly dressed than her sister. As she bent to fetch a bottle, bending to a lower shelf, her short skirt rode up, exposing most of her excellent legs. Her blouse dipped, showing the tops of two well-shaped bosoms. She came back with two glasses on a silver tray.
'I think I'll have Chardonnay too,' Margot chipped in.
'Well, you know where the bottle is,' snapped Sable but Margot was already helping herself.
When she came back she sat next to Paula. She adjusted her skirt to cover her elegant knees. Sable was now seated in an imposing carver chair on the other side of the desk, elevated above them.
'Cheers!' said Margot, raising her glass. 'Now, how can we help you?'
'I have detected in this house an atmosphere of unease,' Tweed began. 'Have you any idea what causes it? One person? If so, who?'
'This is a house of hatred,' Sable burst out. 'We all have to fight our corner to survive,' she said viciously. 'Father is a problem. Sometimes moody – once said he wished we'd never been born. ..'
'That's a wild exaggeration,' Margot protested.
'At other times he's so generous with presents.' She touched the expensive diamond brooch attached to her blouse, gazed maliciously at Margot.
'I'd say,' Margot insisted, 'we're just an average family who have disagreements now and again.'
'Bollocks!' Sable burst out again.
'Our guests are accustomed to using decent lan guage,' Margot said quietly.
'All right!' Sable shouted, then quietened down. 'I apologize for using the word.' She glared at Margot. 'It would be my older sister to pick me up on that.'
'I'm one year older than Sable,' Margot said, again quietly.
'What do you both think of your brother, Lance?' Tweed asked.
'He's a pain -' Sable began.
'He keeps to himself,' Margot explained. 'Understandable being so out-numbered by sisters.'
'Does he go to London frequently?' Tweed said, speaking rapidly, determined to get quick answers before either sister could think.
'Frequently,' replied Margot.
'When he's not fooling around with the local talent,' sneered her sister.
'I gather he's determined under no circumstances to be the next Lord Bullerton…'
'Inside this house,' Sable said. 'But he keeps quiet in the Village, in Gunners Gorge and round the countryside.'
'Why would he do that?' rapped out Tweed.
'Because,' Sable said with an unpleasant grin, 'it impresses the aristo girls he lures to his flat. The clots think it's great to spend a night or two with the future Lord Bullerton.'
'Aristo girls?' queried Tweed.
'Members of the aristocracy,' Sable explained. 'The horsey set. Quite a few are my friends so I hear what's going on. Margot is never asked to their parties,' she concluded triumphantly.
'Don't know them,' Margot remarked coolly. 'Don't want to. I don't like horses. Don't ride. Bit of a bore.'
'Fact is,' Sable elaborated as she hitched her jumper higher, 'no one would dream of inviting her. Not their circle.'
'Where does Mrs Shipton come from?' Tweed asked suddenly.
He's using his tactic, Paula thought, of changing the subject without warning to throw people off balance.
'Mrs Shipton?' Sable echoed vaguely.
'Yes, Mrs Shipton,' Tweed repeated emphatically. 'My question was clear enough.' He turned to Margot, who nodded before she replied.
'We really have no idea. She just turned up when Father was desperate for someone to run the house.'
'So,' Sable broke in, annoyed that the attention had swung away from her, 'he offered her the crown jewels by way of a salary and she accepted. As to where she comes from I have no damned idea. Oh, excuse me.'
'You have both been most helpful,' Tweed said, rising. 'I am grateful for the time you've given us. Tomorrow Paula and I are travelling to London for a couple of days before we come back. I have to check the situation at HQ.'
They had reached the closed door when Sable darted ahead of them so beat Margot to opening it. Tweed pressed one hand against it and fired his last shot. 'Lord Bullerton, does he often travel to London?'
'Very often,' Sable said before Margot could reply, 'says he's going on business for a few days.' She smirked. 'I've seen the business, so-called. I was in Mayfair once, saw him chatting up an attractive woman in a tight dress. Then they disappeared together into a very expensive block of fiats where the 'lady' probably has a suite. I suppose he has to have his fling regularly. Bet it's a different woman each time. He's too smart to risk being tied to one
