The Main chance

23

When Tweed pulled up the Audi a few yards from the entrance to Dodd's End a dramatic sight met their eyes. The front of Baron's Walk was illuminated in a glare of lights: three police cars, their blue lights revolving, were parked close to the front garden, uniformed policemen with powerful torches were searching the garden and all the windows had their curtains closed but there were lights behind them. `It's like a circus,' Paula commented. `It's Chief Inspector Hammer,' Tweed told her. 'He took an earlier call at Hengistbury Manor before we got back. Buchanan spoke to him and Hammer charged over here and started a revolution.' `He's thick as three posts,' Paula said. `To be fair he's all right with an open-and-shut case, a murder weapon found with fingerprints, the victim's husband has run off. But he's not so strong when personality and character have to be unravelled.' `And Hengistbury is all personality and character.' `I think we'll leave the car here and walk up the left side where the single street lamp is on. The one opposite is not working.'

They were passing the house where the woman who watched behind her curtains had been interviewed on their previous visit. No. 3. She was standing in her open doorway chatting to another neighbour in a dressing- gown. Outside other houses more neighbours in various states of dress were chattering, with frequent glances at Baron's Walk. `Ghouls,' muttered Paula. `They probably don't get much entertainment, locked away in this close.' `You call this entertainment?' Paula snapped. `They will, in a macabre way…'

Tweed and Paula showed their folders to a constable who lifted the police tape for them to duck under. Tweed was heading for the wide drive leading to the open garage, the way they'd entered on their first visit. They reached the garage as Hammer's bulky figure in a crumpled suit rushed towards them from the half-open front door. `I'm in charge here,' he bawled. 'That's not the way in.' `You're not in charge,' Tweed told him mildly. 'I am. I know the way in through the garage.' `I'm in charge of this one,' Hammer bawled for the benefit of every policeman nearby. "This isn't necessarily anything to do with-' `Shut up!' Tweed rapped out, turning on him. 'And under no circumstances are you to mention the name Hengistbury,' he ordered, lowering his voice. 'It's by no means certain the two cases are connected.' `Well, go up the steps at the back and see her.' `That her car?' Tweed asked, nodding towards a BMW painted a strong egg-yellow parked in the garage. `It is.'

Tweed was already halfway up the steps when Hammer tried to push in front of Paula. She reacted by stretching out an arm, pushing him back as she smiled. `At the top of steps turn right down the corridor,'

Hammer called out. 'Last door on the left. She's in the living room…'

Tweed paused just inside the entrance. If anything it was worse than what he'd seen in Bella's study. Mandy was sprawled back in an armchair, her legs wide apart, her purple panties thrown on the floor. Round her neck was a wire collar with spikes. That is, what was left of her neck which was little more than a wide gash with a blood-soaked blouse beneath it. Her head was drooped over the back of the chair, her hair awry. Bending over her was Professor Saafeld, who looked up when he heard Tweed. `He raped her,' Hammer announced. 'Really enjoyed himself,' with a hint of lasciviousness in his gravelly voice.

Paula swung round in a fury. Hammer was only feet away from her when she lashed out: 'If that's the most decent comment you can make, go and find the bathroom and wash your filthy mouth out with Dettol. `You…' Hammer stepped back. 'You.. ' Lost for words, he clumped out of the room on his stubby legs and disappeared. `I doubt if she was raped,' Saafeld said. 'Something odd about this whole scenario. The necklace, probably dropped over her from behind, is a replica of the one used to kill Bella. I suspect Mrs Carlyle was at least half-drunk at the time. All subject to examination at my morgue. When the paramedics arrive I want her taken back to Holland Park in the chair. They'll find it difficult but that's what I need.' `I know you won't want to say yet,' Tweed began, `but can you give me any idea when the crime was committed?'

Saafeld pursed his thick lips. Paula recalled from earlier cases that Britain's top pathologist never showed any reaction. A team of men appeared at the door, one holding his camera. The technical team had arrived. `Please take a lot of photographs,' Saafeld said, addressing the young technician with the camera. `From above, from below, more than usual of the corpse, especially from the front and also several of the chair from various angles. I'm going back now,' he said to Tweed as he removed his latex gloves. `I didn't see your Rolls when we arrived,' Tweed remarked. `I had it parked round the back with a constable guarding it. Yobbos are not only in London, more are down in an area like this.' `Still don't understand how you stand working for Tweed,' he said amiably to Paula as he kissed her on the cheek and left.

He came back almost as soon as he'd left. Saafeld gestured for Tweed and Paula to join him outside. Some distance away tired policemen were still searching the garden with their torches. `I didn't tell you very roughly when the murder was probably committed. Between 8 p.m. and 10 p.m. subject to-'

He dashed off, holding his bag, round the back of the house where his car was parked. As soon as he'd gone Hammer came out. `One vital question I didn't ask you,' Tweed said pleasantly, 'who reported the murder?' `A Mrs Denise Sealle. No. 3, down the right-hand side of the road. The killer left the light on in the living room. He closed the curtains but left a big gap – opposite where the victim was sprawled. When we've done all we can here I'll drive back to Hengistbury.' He addressed his remarks to Tweed and never gave Paula a glance.

They walked down the right-hand pavement, found no one about at No. 3. Tweed pressed the bell, kept his thumb on it. The door flew open and the woman they'd asked the way to Baron's Walk stared at them.

She was wearing a long black velvet dress. Round her plump waist was fastened a gold belt. `You again,' she rasped. 'I'm going to call the police.' `They're on your doorstep, Mrs Sealle,' Tweed said, showing her his folder. 'We need a few minutes of your time now.' `You might have told me before. I suppose you'd better come in. There are no refreshments here.'

They were shown into a living room with undistinguished furniture: hard-backed wooden chairs, two sofas covered with a flowered print. A log fire crackled in the wall facing the road. Mrs Sealle lit a cigarette, waited. `How did you know Mrs Carlyle had been murdered?' Tweed asked. `Well, I saw her. Lights on in the living room. A big gap in the curtains.' `It was dark,' Tweed persisted, 'and your house isn't near hers.' `I saw her from upstairs, then came down here to get a look from that window.'

Tweed and Paula got up, went over to the window. He frowned, turned round to look at Mrs Sealle, who was puffing madly. `All I can see is a blur.' `Use these, then.'

From under a cushion on a sofa she produced a pair of binoculars. Paula smiled to herself. Mrs Sealle probably knew everything that went on in the close. Tweed adjusted the focus. He saw Mrs Carlyle, still in the chair, legs sprawled, her savaged neck, bloodstained blouse.

"Thank you,' he said returning the binoculars, sitting down again on the sofa with Paula. 'Did you see any strangers going towards Baron's Walk, say between the hours of 7 p.m. and 10 p.m.?' `Yes, I did. The first came on a motorbike. I heard it and he must have left it before he reached the close. Then this man walked quickly up the far side of the road and disappeared when he reached Baron's Walk.' `Give me a description, please.' `Wearing a peaked cap, the type they all wear, and jeans.' `You saw his face?' `Evil-looking, sharp nose and jaw. I suppose it would be about 7 p.m. Much later the second man arrived.' `You're very observant. How would you describe the second man?' `Posh. Tall, slim. Long coat, black, trilby pulled down over his face.' `What time would this be – when the second man appeared?' `About 8 p.m., I'd say.' `Are you really sure of your descriptions?' Tweed pressed. `Well, I suppose the 8 p.m. man could have been of medium height and rather stocky.' `Mrs Sealle.. ' Tweed stood up. 'That street lamp on the other side of the street hasn't been working at all this evening. So how could you see what either visitor looked like? It's pitch dark over there.' `Oh, I see Calling me a liar, are you?'

Tweed said nothing as he walked towards the front door with Paula. Mrs Sealle already had it open. As they continued down the path to the pavement she shrieked, 'And don't ever bloody come back 'ere'

On their way back to Hengistbury there was silence in the Audi for some time. Tweed was concentrating on driving along a tricky country road with sharp bends and Paula sat brooding. `Mrs Sealle would be hopeless as a witness,' she said eventually. 'She's got the right name – Mrs Sea-all. The trouble is she doesn't' `The only data we can rely on,' Tweed commented, is that the earlier visitor had a peaked cap, the much later one wore a trilby. I don't think she made up those two items. And Trilby arrived much later.' `Which gets us nowhere.' `Maybe…'

It seemed to take forever before Tweed drove the Audi at a crawl through the tunnel under The Forest. The gates swung open seconds after they'd arrived. Marshal's Rolls was parked below the terrace steps, Tweed parked behind it, wondering whether Marshal was going off to visit someone at this late hour.

Lavinia met them in the open doorway and Tweed realized she had opened the gates for them. She was clad in a short blue skirt and a white polo-necked sweater which hugged her figure. `Thank you,' Tweed said, returning her smile. `Where is everyone?' `We had early dinner at six so Mrs Grandy could visit her sister in Gladworth. So far as I know they all went up to their apartments, like me, and have been there ever since. I came down to collect some papers in this folder and then I heard you arriving.' She smiled warmly. 'I can recognize the sound of your car. I'd better get on with more work…'

After she had taken their coats they went into the library, expecting to find it empty. Marshal stood up from a chair, now wearing a smart business suit. He greeted them affably. `Been out on the town, you two? I've been back over two hours…' `No! He hasn't!' Crystal had been seated in a deep armchair at the other end of the library, concealed by its high back. She came dancing forward, her expression mutinous. 'Marshal hasn't been back more than ten minutes, if that.' `If you can't stop telling lies,' Marshal shouted, 'then keep your stupid mouth shut, you idiot child!'

Crystal was close to him now He raised his hand, swung it back to slap her face violently. If the blow had landed he'd have sent her reeling across the room. Tweed grasped his raised arm in a tight clamp. `Marshal. First she's not a child, she's a young woman Second, you do not go round hitting women, whatever age they may be.'

Marshal, his face twisted in vicious fury, jabbed his elbow savagely into Tweed's ribs. That was his intention but Tweed stepped aside, clenched his fist and hit his opponent on the jaw with half his strength. Had he used all his strength the jaw would have been broken. Marshal was thrown back against the panelling where he slid down to the floor. He used a handkerchief to wipe a blood smear from his mouth. Standing up, he smiled engagingly at Tweed and Paula. `We all have our moments of disagreement but they pass so quickly. I'm going out to park the Rolls round the back, then I'm off to get some shut-eye. Hope you both sleep well…' `Did you see that look on his face before he got to his feet?' Paula whispered. 'Like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.' `Thank you,' said Crystal as she ran to Tweed and kissed him. 'My defender.' Her expression changed. `And he got back not ten minutes ago. Nighty-night, and sleep the sleep of the just.'

Then she was gone, closing the door very quietly. Paula sagged into an armchair and Tweed joined her in a facing chair. `Well,' Paula mused, 'that was quite something.' `And Crystal told the truth,' Tweed said. 'When we got back I felt the bonnet of the Rolls and it was very warm. Marshal did get back very recently.' `He had hours to drive back here from Seacove,' Paula said thoughtfully. 'Then drive on somewhere else, say as far as Dodd's End.'

Tweed was about to suggest they might as well get off to bed when the mobile buzzed. As he listened and said very little Bob Newman came into the library, bent down and hugged Paula. Then he sat in an armchair close to them.

Tweed's expression was grim as he finished the call. He sat pondering the conversation and then spoke. `That was Buchanan. They have now got certain data on the methods Calouste uses. His strategy, if you like.' `Well tell us,' Paula said impatiently. `If he's working on a plan, and I think he is over here, he stays in the background. But if it doesn't pan out he gets aggressive.' `What does that mean?' Newman asked. `He's likely to move himself much closer to the scene of the action. To supervise it himself, I suppose.' `What does that tell us?' Paula wanted to know, pushing a lock of black hair clear of her face. 'About here, I mean.' `We know he's here,' Tweed went on. 'I'm sure we nearly trapped him at Heather Cottage. I'd wrongly assumed he'd then get a long way from Hengistbury. `We can see that,' Newman intervened. What does it tell us?' `He'll be frustrated. And there was the bullet fired at me outside the Hall.' `Do get to the point,' Paula urged. `It's frightening. His normal strategy will lead him to get closer to the target. Me. He's probably close, very close, to Hengistbury now as I speak.' `Oh, my God!' Paula exclaimed. `In that case,' Newman said cheerfully, 'we have to think of him biding his time while he's based somewhere near here. Maybe quite near.' `There isn't anywhere that fits that description,' Tweed protested. `Oh yes, there is,' Newman said grimly. 'Maybe I'm the only one who's noticed it…'

He broke off as Marler entered the room, his flying helmet dangling from one hand Paula waved a kiss and then spoke to him. `Where have you been all day?' `Oh,' Newman replied, 'he's been enjoying himself. Flying over East Anglia and then the Fens.' `Weather wasn't bad,' Marler told her, 'and I just came in to say good night. I'm off myself for some shut-eye.' `And where is Harry?' Paula asked when he'd gone. `Harry,' Newman told her, 'has been prowling The Forest all day. Took a snack lunch with him. He's convinced danger will come through The Forest.' `And now,' Tweed intervened irritably, 'maybe Bob can go on with what he was saying.' `I took Harry's car today and motored slowly into Gladworth to get a pack of cigarettes. A distance from here Bella's high wall curves away from the road. Beyond The Forest takes over again. Not far from there is an unmade drive to a small ancient house called Shooter's Lodge. The house is like a lodge. `I do remember catching a glimpse of it,' Paula confirmed. 'Looks very run-down.' `And,' Newman went on, 'after hearing Tweed tell us what Calouste's tactics are when a plan isn't going well, he moves in close to the target.' `Sounds unlikely,' Paula commented as she got up while Tweed also stood up. 'Time for bed,' she announced. `I'll stay up a bit,' Newman said. 'I'm very alert.'

Tweed followed Paula up the staircase, several paces behind her. She was yards ahead of him along the corridor when he coughed briefly to clear his throat. The door he was passing opened and Lavinia stood just inside. She was still wearing her white polo-necked jumper and short skirt. She stood in her stockinged feet, arms folded. `I recognized that occasional cough,' she said with a welcoming smile. 'Come in for a minute. I want to talk to you.' `It's rather late…'

She took a step back to encourage Tweed to enter the apartment. He felt disturbed by the sight of her, the deep blue pools of her large eyes. He felt a rising urge to follow her inside. `I like you,' she said in a soft voice. 'And I think you like me.' `I do find you intriguing,' he admitted. `Then we can have a drink of something together. Coffee or something stronger.'

He had both hands inside the pockets of his jacket and he suddenly realized they were clenched tight. Glancing down the corridor he saw Paula still standing outside her door, her apartment key in her hand. Lavinia caught the glance. She leaned out of the door. `Hi, Paula. Had a tough day? I'd say Tweed has. Can hardly keep his eyes open.' She smiled. 'Get a good night's kip, both of you.' She gave Tweed a wide smile, then closed her door.

Tweed followed Paula into her apartment, which she had opened by the time he reached it. She was grinning as he sank into an armchair. From a cupboard she fetched a bottle of wine and two glasses, which she filled, placing them on a table. As Tweed reached for his glass she perched herself on the arm of his chair. They clinked glasses, drank. `What's so funny?' Tweed asked her. 'You were like the Cheshire Cat.' `She's after you. She likes you. I heard her say it. I can understand it. She's in her thirties and prefers older men. She's also very intelligent and regards younger men as big kids.' `Well, absolutely nothing happened.' `You find her intriguing,' she teased him.

He sat up straight, slapped his hands on the table, his face grim. `She's a suspect in two particularly horrible murder cases, along with a number of other people. If she were guilty I'd give the evidence in the witness box straight. I would do it, knowing the judge would send her down for life with no option for parole. It's my job. I'm still a policeman at heart.' `I know you are.' She laid a hand on his shoulder. 'It is one of a dozen reasons I like you.'