The Savage Gorge

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 woman even for what he's needing, being a man.'

Glancing back as they left the room, Paula saw Margot with her eyes raised to heaven at Sable's crude way of expressing herself. She gave Paula a lovely smile and a little wave of her hand.

'Was it worth it?' Paula asked as they drove away.

'I found it very significant what Margot said, even more so what Sable said.'

'And you're not going to tell me yet?'

'Not until I'm sure I'm right. Incidentally, how long would it take you to get packed for immediate depar ture?'

'One minute. I'm always packed for any emer gency.'

'Good. Because as soon as we get back to the Nag's Head we're driving south to Marler's boat and sailing to Noak. That talk about leaving tomorrow was camouflage. I'm sure Sable won't be able to help spilling the beans to someone. Marler has been alerted. He's warned Harry. I don't want MacBlade or Falkirk to know…'

As they arrived back at the garage, Marler appeared from nowhere with Harry. He told Tweed they were ready to leave now. Looking at Paula he smiled.

'Hope you don't mind riding as my passenger in my Maserati – on the motorway for a lot of the trip.'

'I’ d love that,' she fibbed as her stomach flipped.

'Tweed drives the Audi with the armour plate and armoured glass, taking Harry as passenger.'

He broke off as Lance walked in from the hotel. He wore a long white pullover and plaid trousers. He greeted them with a warm smile.

'Off somewhere, are we?'

'To London. Tomorrow,' Tweed said quickly. 'We're checking the state of our transport.'

'You'll be coming back, I hope?'

'At the latest two days after tomorrow,' Tweed assured him.

'I mustn't linger. Busy day ahead of me.'

As he spoke he jumped on a brand-new Harley- Davidson motorbike and left the garage at speed, driving up the High Street. Paula watched him as he pulled in at a house halfway up the street, ran to the door, which was opening. A tall well-built blonde appeared holding a shopping carrier. She kissed him, he patted her on the rump, she walked away as he closed the door.

'Another arista victim,' Paula commented. 'Bet he's packing her bag, ready to dump it on the doorstep…'

'I've got the special weapons you suggested,' Harry reported to Tweed.

'Time to move,' said Tweed. 'Now! ' He looked at Marler. I’d like to know where we're going.'

'Seaward Cove, border of Somerset and Devon. We'll be there before night. Cove is remote, size of an oyster shell…'