The Main chance

4

Tweed drove down the drive. The gates had opened, and he turned left into another fir-shrouded tunnel. It was cold again. It would always be cold. Paula stared at him. His expression was grim.

She was looking at a man of uncertain age, of medium height and well built inside his smart navy- blue suit. He had horn-rimmed glasses on his strong nose above a determined mouth and well-shaped jaw.

He had changed recently, seemed to her younger and very fit. `You're going the wrong way,' she ventured. 'We should have turned right beyond the gates for London' `You're not as analytical as you usually are.' `What does that mean?' `Bella and Lavinia made a great performance about hiding the address on that envelope, the type of envelope which often contains a will.' `I still don't get it,' she protested. `Hamble, Goodworthy and Richter, well-known solicitors with offices in Threadneedle Street, London. Bella raised her voice to make sure we heard. I do have an advantage over you,' he admitted. 'Watching her leave in her Saab from that window I saw Lavinia turn left beyond the gates.' `This is the way to Gladworth.. `Precisely,' he went on in the same grim tone. 'I signalled to Harry with my lighter. He'll have followed her. When we find him he'll tell us where Lavinia did go to.' `Oh, I see.' `On top of that I don't like people laying plans to kill me, especially when I have you in the car. The attempt on our lives was skilfully planned. Be analytical and you can work it out for yourself.' `I'm lost,' she confessed.

'Think!' he snapped. 'From the moment we left Park Crescent.'

She glanced at him, taken aback. He so rarely snapped at her. She sensed he was concealing a cold rage. `This must be Gladworth,' Paula said as they emerged from the fir-enclosed tunnel into an old street paved with flat stones. 'Now, to find Harry and see if this is where Lavinia was headed for.'

Tweed had slowed to a crawl. A notice warned 20 m.p.h. maximum speed. Paula had her face pressed to the window. She was searching for his brown Ford with its souped-up engine. Both sides of Gladworth's streets were lined with large expensive-looking terraced houses. Residents obviously occupied the first and second floors, which all had stone troughs perched on the outside ledges, packed with spring flowers – crocuses, daffodils and shrubs. The ground floors were occupied by shops Paula had not expected. Expensive, she spotted Escada where a dress cost a small fortune, then Aquascutum and many more in the same price range. `There's loads of money somewhere round here,' she observed. `Probably in big houses hidden in The Forest,' Tweed remarked vaguely. 'What we have to do is to see if Harry is here.' `There's a sign pointing to a car park down a side street,' `We'll check that. 1 don't see cars parked in the street.'

As they turned down a narrow street bordered with grey-stone houses Paula lowered her window. The park was filled with expensive cars neatly slotted in. She saw a Lamborghini and stared at an ancient Lagonda. Tweed found a slot, slipped carefully inside, switched off the engine. He had seen Lavinia's Saab. The number plate was the one he'd memorized while watching her drive off from Hengistbury Manor. `Now, where's Harry?' she called out. `The old mucker's here,' Harry's Cockney voice replied, standing outside her window. 'And,' he went on, addressing Tweed, `if that silver Saab is the one you wanted me to follow you've come to the right place. The girl driving it could drive me nuts. If I put on a decent set of clothes and got educated.' `She'd probably be fascinated by you,' Paula said, grinning. 'Especially when you started telling her East End jokes.' `What did she do when she arrived?' growled Tweed. `Where is she now?' `First -' Harry ticked off the points on his thick fingers – 'she parks her car here. Second, she darts back into the street and pops into a solicitors – Lowell, French and Browne. Small place in the main street with a big window. A thin streak with a pince-nez is sitting behind a desk. She hands him the long brown envelope she's been carrying. Pince-nez scribbles in a small book, tears out a sheet, hands it to her and she's away.' `The receipt,' said Tweed. `Then Pince-nez uses the phone, a short call.' `Telling Bella it's arrived safely,' Tweed commented. `What does she do next?' `Goes into the Pike's Peak, presumably for lunch since she's still there. At least I think so. Not in the dining-room or bar.' `That posh place with white walls and a doorman?' asked Paula. `You've got it in one. Best place in town is my guess.'

Tweed was hurrying out of the car as Paula closed the window. When they joined Harry, Tweed's voice was crisp, that of a man who did not waste time. He looked at Harry. `Guide us discreetly. I'd like to see Lowell, French and Browne without them seeing us.' `Follow me. Slowly. No one hurries in Gladworth. No one except the glorious dish who drives the Saab. We'll cross to the other side of the main street.'

There was no traffic when they strolled after Harry. Among the few pedestrians were elegantly dressed women gazing into the shop windows. This is better than the Piccadilly end of Bond Street, Paula thought. Harry paused, turned round. `Other side of the street. That big window!

Tweed glanced at the window of sheet glass. Inscribed in old lettering was the name. Lowell, French amp; Browne. Solicitors. No one was seated at a large desk at right angles to the High Street. Nor was there any sign of any occupant anywhere in the office. Tweed frowned. `Don't go to the Pike's Peak for lunch,' Harry warned. 'Your target must be in the restaurant.'

Tweed chose a tea shop which served full lunches. They invited Harry to join them but he had a packed lunch in his car. Paula ordered ham and eggs and Tweed followed suit. He had a faraway look and Paula kept quiet. `Excuse my not talking,' he said, 'but I have a lot to think about.'

They were driving back towards London through the dark tunnels with Harry a quarter-mile ahead of them when Tweed began. talking. `Worked it out yet?' he asked Paula. `Yes. My brain must have gone to sleep. That attempt to kill us with the digger was brilliantly organized. First, there must have been someone watching us leave Park Crescent. Then he'd use his mobile to alert a pilot waiting at a private airfield, describing our car and maybe us. Pilot takes off and checks the lane leading to Hengistbury Manor. When he sees us the pilot flashes a signal to the digger driver, already waiting for us. `Very good. But how did they know we were heading out to see Bella this morning?'

No idea.' `Think!' he said with a smile. 'There's a traitor inside the Main Chance family. They all knew we were coming. Bella will have told them, maybe days ago. The traitor informed the brilliant organizer of that attack on us.' `Oh, my God! You have to be right.' She leaned forward. "There's a police barrier across the road. Very close to where that digger crash-landed. `Leave the talking to me,' Tweed suggested as he stopped, but kept the engine running.

A uniformed officer, exuding self-importance, strolled towards them as Tweed lowered his window. He peered into the car and Paula stared back. He then addressed Tweed. `Driving down from London, sir?' `I'm driving to London from Gladworth. What seems to be the problem?' `I'm Inspector Tetford from Leaminster. There's been a nasty accident. Fatal. Driver of a large digger missed seeing a small gorge, plunged into it. Weight of the said digger killed him.' `Really,' said Tweed. `Coming from Gladworth, would you know a Jed Higgins?'

'No, I wouldn't.' `Odd business. Digger was stolen from his barn. Earlier the farmer received a phone call saying his wife had been injured in a car smash on the motorway nearer London. So he dashes off and later finds there's been no car smash. Gets back to his farm after the digger was stolen. Finds his wife safe and sound, back from shopping in Gladworth.' `As you said, odd business.' `And, sir, none of the locals ever heard of Jed Higgins. I won't detain you any longer.' He stood back, saluted, waved to someone and the barrier was lifted.

Tweed drove on without a glance into the field where a canvas tent had been erected over the digger. `What do you think of that?' Paula asked. `I don't like it. The whole thing was planned by a brilliant organizer' `So are we getting involved with the Main Chance Bank.' `No.' `You mentioned a traitor. I'm wondering about Snape. He did take photos of us this morning when we were leaving Park Crescent.' `The timing is all wrong. They – whoever "they" may be – had to have that data earlier to set up their complex trap.' `Yes, that makes sense. So you still think we'll never get involved with Hengistbury again?' `Absolutely not. I'll explain why if you'll come back with me to my Bexford Street house this evening.' `Of course I'll come. But I still wonder if we've seen the last of Hengistbury.'