The Main chance

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.