“Quite a backdrop, isn’t it?” Tania had joined him as he stood at the window gazing across the lake to the wood-covered slopes beyond.
“Spectacular.” He slipped an arm round her waist. “It seems a comfortable hotel, too. You might even enjoy the next two weeks.”
“As long as you don’t closet yourself away working on your new play. Will there be a part in it for me?”
“Do you want one?”
“It would be a guarantee of employment!”
He laughed. “I don’t think you need worry about that. Shall we stroll down to the lake? There’s an hour before we need change for dinner.”
“You do realize we’ll be recognized?”
“What do you suggest? Permanent dark glasses?”
“I’m used to people looking at me but you hate it.”
“I can take it as long as they keep their distance and don’t start haranguing me on something I said on the box weeks ago. That happened to me in Oxford Street the other day, did I tell you?”
“Well, you stir up a hornet’s nest every time you appear. Better be extra careful here, though,” she added, pulling the bedroom door shut behind them.
“They have an unfortunate way of dealing with people they disagree with!”
“Talking of which, I intend to question the chambermaid and see what I can get out of her.”
“About the girl who was killed? Why?”
“I’d like to know what she was doing by the stones. She might even have mentioned something she’d seen up there.” He pushed her ahead of him through the swing doors.
“Don’t tell me you believe that weird story of Ted’s?”
“Not as it stands, but there are fascinating possibilities. I’d also like to visit the school on some pretext and see if I can winkle out my correspondent.”
“Jason, why are you bothering with all this? Are you on one of your debunking missions?”
“Not necessarily, but I feel the embryo of a new play taking shape. You must admit I’ve been handed some promising ingredients.”
Tania said reflectively, “They haven’t found the murderer yet, have they?”
“Not according to the papers. Does it worry you that we might pass him in the street?”
She stopped abruptly and stared at him. “You don’t think he’s still here?”
“Beloved, I’m not a detective, but if this murder was some kind of ritual, which, judging by the unusual features of it, seems quite likely, I should say the killer is almost definitely someone local.”
“Then for God’s sake let’s keep away from that Circle, in case we see something we shouldn’t.”
She slipped her hand through his arm and they walked slowly through the garden, with its croquet lawn and tennis courts, to the private jetty at the edge of the lake.
“Like to take a boat out?”
“Not just now; I want to leave time for a leisurely bath before dinner. Perhaps tomorrow. I can’t get used to having all this time at our disposal after the tight schedules we’ve been living with.”
“Still planning to go to France later?” His eyes were on a boat out on the lake.
“You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Only if it makes me look a fool. Discretion is essential to this arrangement.”
“Lover, if you’re in the public eye people will talk about you, whether you give them cause or not.”
“So you might as well derive the benefit?”
He felt her tense, prepared to argue her supposed rights, and cursed himself for raising the subject at so inopportune a moment.
“Forget it,” he said shortly. “This isn’t the time or place for recriminations. Look at that bird down there. Is it a crow? You don’t often see them as close as that.”
The chambermaid was turning down the bedspreads when they returned to their room. Tania was amused at the awed look she darted at Jason, who promptly set himself to be charming. Leaving him to his interrogation, she caught up her peignoir and went through to the bathroom. His question about France had caught her offguard and she was relieved when he’d dismissed the subject almost at once. Forced into each other’s company for the next two weeks, they would have more chance of making a go of things if France and Derek were left out of the conversation.
She stood for a moment surveying her reflection in the mirror over the basin: wide grey eyes, dark-lashed, petulant mouth and a cloud of pale hair. No sign of a wrinkle yet, which was just as well. Skilfully she removed her make-up, caught her hair up in a bandeau and stepped into the bath.
“Your turn,” she announced ten minutes later, returning to the bedroom. “How was the first witness?”
“Quite informative and surprisingly ready to talk.”
“She probably hopes you’ll find her a job in television! What did she say?”
“That Patsy, the dead girl, had some kind of running feud with the gypsies. One of them does odd jobs around the village and it seems she caught him nicking something. Sharon wasn’t too clear on the details.”
“Sharon?” Tania raised her eyebrows.
“My informant. But the tie-up with the gypsies is interesting, wouldn’t you say?”
“You reckon it was them what done her in, Guvnor?”
“Give me a chance! At least they’re a common denominator, as is the stone circle. And I’m afraid you’ll have to be a brave girl, because that will be our first port of call in the morning.”
Anita Barlow looked up as someone came pushing through the swing-doors.
“Matthew! I didn’t expect to see you this evening!”
“Why not? I usually drop in on a Saturday.”
“But this weekend there’s considerable competition. Haven’t you heard who’s staying at the Lakeside? None other than Mr and Mrs Jason Quinn!”
Matthew stopped abruptly and stared across at her. “You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure! I was talking to Sally on the phone earlier.”
“My God!” he said softly. “What’s he doing up here?”
“Having a holiday, I should think, like everyone else.”
But Matthew’s mind had gone back to the note he had so unwisely sent some nine months previously. Could it have any connection with Jason Quinn’s arrival? It hardly seemed likely that he would pay much attention to it, but perhaps Patsy’s death had jogged his memory. There were a lot of sensation-seekers among the holiday crowds at the moment.
“Not seeing Madeleine tonight?” Anita asked, as he did not speak.
He pulled his mind back to the present. “She’s gone home for the weekend.”
“Where’s Philip, then?”
“He said something about a game of golf with Dick Willoughby.”
Anita made no comment. She and Eve had noticed over the last few months that the Selbys weren’t as inseparable as before. Shrewdly she wondered if Madeleine were the reason behind it.
“I think if you don’t mind,” Matthew was saying, “I will desert you after all. I’d be most interested to see Jason Quinn in person.”
“If you speak to him, be careful what you say. He has a mind like a rapier, that one.”
Matthew smiled. “Relax, love. My mind’s a match for anyone!”
The cocktail lounge was crowded. Jason and Tania, a pleasant meal behind them, were relaxing at a table by the window with coffee and liqueurs.
“I don’t believe,” Jason commented, “that you’ve heard a single word I said.”
“Sorry, darling. There’s a gorgeous man at the bar who hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he came in. It’s a little distracting.”
“You should be used to it by now.”
“It depends who’s doing the looking; this is the sexiest guy I’ve seen in a long while.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. You’re always so good for my morale.” Jason turned his head, met the eyes of the man at the bar – strange eyes, browny-green, with a disconcertingly penetrating gaze – and turned back to Tania. “I dislike extremely good-looking men on principle. They’re usually narcissistic.”
“I was – my God! What’s in this drink?”
Heads were turning all over the lounge as Philip Selby joined his brother. “Anita said I’d find you here. Have you sighted the quarry?”
“Over by the window. I think you might say we’ve made contact.”
“His wife’s a corker, isn’t she?”
“A bit too obvious for my taste. She’s been giving me the come-on.”
“Has his lordship deigned to look round?”
“Twice. Once for you and once for me. She must have said something.”
Philip reached for his glass. “I hope he won’t poke his nose where it’s not wanted.”
“If he does, he’ll get more than he bargains for. I think we should keep tabs on him for a while – see where he goes and who he approaches. If he’s genuinely only up on holiday it’ll soon become obvious and we can relax.”
“It was a damn nuisance about that girl,” Philip said broodingly. “It’s drawn attention to the village just when we could least afford it.”
Matthew did not reply. He had never mentioned the note he’d sent Jason Quinn, but privately he felt that it was the lure of a Macbeth prophecy rather than recent headlines which accounted for his presence among them.
Philip drained his glass and put it down on the counter. “If you’ve finished your drink, let’s go. I promised Anita we’d call back to report, and enjoyable though it is being ogled by the delectable Mrs Quinn, I don’t want to risk antagonizing her husband.”
Tania watched with regret as the two men left the room, became aware of her husband’s sardonic eyes on her, and smiled unrepentantly. “Relax, lover. It’s good for my image to indulge in a little long-distance flirting!”
“If that comment masquerades as apology, don’t bother. I’ve been quite content watching the boats on the lake. It must be extremely peaceful here out of season.”
“Or dull!”
“Poor love, you miss the bright lights already don’t you, and we’ve been here only a few hours! Never mind, you know the value of personal appearances. There’s a man over there who’s been trying for some time to pluck up the courage to ask for your autograph. Shall we give him another few minutes or are you ready for bed?”
As she bent to retrieve her handbag the man in question finally made his move, confounding both of them by approaching Jason instead of Tania, who had difficulty in concealing her annoyance.
“For my wife, Mr Quinn,” the stranger murmured. “She always enjoys your programmes.”
“Long may she do so,” Jason said smoothly, scrawling his signature on the back of the proffered business card.
“The fool doesn’t even know who I am!” Tania said under her breath.
“Never mind, liebling. It’ll dawn on him one day, and then he’ll regret the one that got away!”
But the incident had soured her mood and she prepared for bed in sulky silence which Jason, tired by the day’s travelling, made no attempt to break down.
He was at the window in his dressing-gown when the morning tea arrived, and took the tray from the girl with his best smile.
“Tell me about the local school, Sharon. What age group does it cater for?”
“Only up to eleven, sir, then they go to Barrowick.”
“I see. That’s very interesting. Thank you.”
“What’s very interesting?” Tania enquired, levering herself up in bed as the girl left the room.
“The fact that there’s no child over eleven there. Since I can’t believe an eleven-year-old would have written that note, we’re left with the interesting probability that it came from a member of staff. Which gives it added importance. I wonder how many there are.”
“Ask Sharon!” said Tania nastily.
After a leisurely breakfast they set off to walk up to the stone circle. The early morning sunshine had disappeared and a wind was whipping up the water of the lake. Tania pointedly turned up the collar of her jacket.
“Which way do we go?”
“Up the High Street initially.”
“It’s not far, is it?”
“Not more than a couple of miles.”
“A couple of miles? Jason, I’m not walking that far!”
“We’ve little choice if we’re to see the stones. Look at that staircase up the outside of the cottage – and there’s a little cobbled square through the archway. It really is a most attractive village. It’d be interesting to learn something of its history. I wonder if there’s a local guide.”
He turned into a stationer’s shop, meeting the owner in the doorway. “We’re just about to close, sir. Only open till eleven on Sundays.”
“I shan’t keep you a moment. Have you any information about the village?”
“There’s an illustrated guide, yes, sir, with a street plan.”
Jason emerged triumphant. “We might as well know what we’re passing,” he commented, flicking through the pages. “It seems some of these buildings date from the fifteenth century, but the place is Norse in origin.”
“So are these pavements, by the look of them. I nearly twisted my ankle just now.”
“Are those what you consider walking shoes?”
“They’re the flattest I have. I didn’t know we were going hiking!”
The sound of an organ reached them from the squat stone church. “We’ll have a look in there tomorrow, when it’s empty. I didn’t realize this was such a fascinating place – it’s quite a bonus.”
Tania paused to get her breath, looking apprehensively up the steeply rising path ahead of her. “How long is this street?”
“According to the plan it goes up to the top of the village and loops round, turning itself into Upper Fell Lane and then Fell Lane on the way down the other side.”
“But how far up do we turn off for the stones?”
“At the top. We’re here now, by the church. I should think we’ve come about half way.”
“And when we get to the top, how far do we have to walk to reach the Circle?”
“A spot of exercise will do you good!”
Since she was patently not interested, he made no further comments on the bow-fronted shops, the pillars and stone steps, the colour-washed houses with their grey slate roofs. She was obviously going to be a liability when it came to exploring the village, as he found himself increasingly eager to do. Damn the girl: if she was going to complain all the time, he’d be better without her. Pity he hadn’t let her go straight to France.
This exasperated thought took him by surprise, implying as it did that her departure would cause him no heart-searchings. Nor, he realized with gratified surprise, would the knowledge that she was in the company of Derek Paterson. If he was prepared to put up with her sulks and silences, he was welcome to her.
At the top of the High Street and a few yards short of the Ancient Monument sign, the smell of fresh coffee stole out to greet them and Tania stopped thankfully outside a small café.
“Praise heaven!” she said devoutly. “If you’re set on going on to the Circle, lover, you’ll travel alone. I’ll wait for you here over a cup of coffee.”
“Fair enough. Can’t say how long I’ll be, though.”
“If I’m sitting down, I shan’t care! Leave me that guide to look at.”
A few spots of rain were falling as he turned into the steep alleyway leading up the hill. He glanced apprehensively at the sky, but it was clear over to the east and probably the rain wouldn’t amount to anything. In any event, he had no intention of being diverted from his goal now that he was almost within sight of it.
A group of tourists was just ahead of him, anoraked against the uncertainties of the weather, and when he reached the Circle there were several other people moving round between the stones. Was it the monument that interested them, he wondered uncharitably, or the recent death?
Because of the tourists he did not immediately attach importance to the two boys squatting at the base of a stone. Only as he strolled towards them and they glanced up, did he register the two identical faces and with a jolt concluded that he had come upon Ted’s twins. He stopped and they eyed him uncertainly, seemingly wondering whether to make a run for it.
“Good morning,” he said pleasantly. They nodded acknowledgment.
“Is it going to rain, do you think?”
“Nobbut a little,” vouchsafed one.
“You live in Crowthorpe?”
“Aye.” Caution returned.
“If I were you, I shouldn’t play around here, after what happened to Patsy Lennard.”
There was a flicker in the dark eyes but neither boy answered. Suddenly, one of them raised his head, frowning slightly, as though he were listening to something. When his eyes returned to Jason, they were frankly suspicious. There was obviously nothing to be gained here. With what he hoped was a casual nod, Jason moved away.
“He was quizzing the boys,” Philip said tightly.
“But only about the murder,” Eve protested. “Nothing unusual in that – all the visitors are talking about it. Let’s not get paranoid. There’s no reason to think he’s interested in us. If you ask me, he’s genuinely here on holiday. In two weeks he’ll go home, and that will be that.”
But there she was wrong. As the days passed, Jason became progressively more interested in the village for its own sake. The good weather had returned, and each morning he left Tania sunbathing by the hotel pool and set off to wander in and out of the mews courtyards, down the twisting alleyways with their overhead arches, and into the dark recesses of the old churches. It was all so picturesque, so steeped in history. And how much easier it would be to settle down to write here, rather than in the hurlyburly of London, where friends and business contacts frequently interrupted him with their invitations and telephone calls.
By the middle of the second week he had made up his mind. There remained the task of informing Tania, and her reaction was much as he’d expected.
“Stay here? All summer? You don’t imagine I’m going to bury myself up here indefinitely?”
“I’m not asking you to. You came for two weeks, as we agreed, and I shan’t persuade you to stay if you don’t want to. In any case I’m hoping to write, and as you know, I’m not much company then.”
“But at least in London there are things for me to do and people to see.”
“Well, go home, then. Françoise will look after you.”
“I’m not staying there by myself! You know how I hate being alone.”
“You’ll be in France for at least some of the time,” he reminded her.
“Is that what this is all about? To punish me for going to France?” She sounded close to tears. “What’s the attraction of this place, anyway? You must have examined every nook and cranny already, judging by the time I’ve spent by myself.”
“That was your choice. I’d have been happy to have you with me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You knew I wouldn’t stay, didn’t you? You don’t want me to.”
“Let’s not make an issue of it, Tania. It’s not as though we’re used to living in each other’s pockets.”
She spun the wheel of her lighter, ignoring the flame he held out for her. “If I’m lonely, I might find someone else to keep me company.”
“That’s up to you.”
She flung down her cigarette. “Damn it, you could at least pretend to mind!”
“Oh, I did at first – quite a lot, in fact, but I realized that I’d brought it on myself, by pressing you to marry me in the first place.”
“Which you now regret?”
He looked at her beautiful, flushed face and wide, angry eyes. “It hasn’t been a resounding success, has it?”
“Damn you, Jason!” Her voice shook.
“Still, we don’t need to go into all that now. For the moment I’m just staying up here to write. That’s reasonable, surely, and an acceptable explanation for my absence, if that’s what’s worrying you. You can come for weekends whenever you like. I’ll make sure I find somewhere with enough room to entertain you.”
“You won’t be staying on here?”
“Hell, no. In any case, the room will be booked to the end of the season.”
“Where will you go?”
“I’ll have to make some enquiries, but I wanted to discuss it with you first.”
“Discuss!” She gave a bitter laugh.
“Somewhere quiet, that’s the main requirement.”
“So you’re really only staying on to write? You’re not going to bother any more about Ted’s story or that letter you received?”
“On the contrary, indeed I am. They could well form the nucleus of the plot, but I’ll have to move slowly and win people’s confidence before they’ll talk to me.” He stood up. “Now we’re agreed on that, I’ll see if the receptionist here has any suggestions.”
“What kind of accommodation are you looking for, sir?”
“Somewhere I can be alone, but have meals provided.
My wife won’t be staying and I don’t want to fend for myself.”
“I really don’t know what to suggest. There are only three hotels here and I know they’re all fully booked. So, I should think, are most of the boarding houses.”
“A boarding house isn’t quite what I’m after.”
“Perhaps Barrowick might be easier? It’s bigger, and –”
“No,” he said firmly, “it must be in Crowthorpe.”
“Well, Mrs Staveley lets out the bungalow at the bottom of her garden, but that’s on a self-catering basis. I suppose you could try her.”
Mrs Staveley, when he called on her that afternoon, was plainly overwhelmed by his enquiry.
“Oh Mr Quinn, if only I’d known! It’s let, I’m afraid, for the next fortnight. There’s a gap then, though, because I had two cancellations, one after the other. Right in the middle of the season – it was quite a let-down.”
“Which might perhaps be to my advantage?”
“Well, yes, if you could wait that long. Would you like to see it? I’d have to ask –”
“It’s not necessary. Just tell me what the accommodation is.”
“There’s two bedrooms, a nice living-cum-dining-room, kitchen and bathroom. All electric and very comfortable, though I say it myself. We had it built ten years ago when my parents were too old to live at any distance from us, but they’ve both passed away now. It’s well equipped, with a nice modern cooker –”
“Ah, I was just coming to that, Mrs Staveley. Would it be possible for you to provide an evening meal? I can just about manage breakfast, and if I’m writing I don’t stop for lunch anyway, but one good meal a day is essential.”
“Surely, sir, your wife –”
“My wife won’t be with me.” He gave her one of his most charming smiles.
“Well, sir, I don’t know. The whole point of self-catering accommodation –”
“Yes, I do understand and obviously the terms would have to be adjusted accordingly, but if it’s really out of the question, I’m afraid the cottage would be no use to me.”
“Well sir, if you put it like that –”
He waited hopefully.
“If it was just one meal a day, a single serving – yes, I don’t see why not. And if you’re alone, you’d need laundry services too – sheets and towels and the like. You don’t want to be troubling yourself with launderettes.”
Jason drew a deep breath, aware of victory. “That’s extremely kind of you,” he said.
When Jason left her to call on Mrs Staveley, Tania was unable to concentrate on her paperback. Their conversation replayed itself in her head, with ominous overtones, and she realized that some time during the course of it, their relationship had subtly altered. ‘It hasn’t been a resounding success,’ he had said.
She stared broodingly into the glinting water of the pool, its brilliant blue dimmed to browny yellow by her sunglasses. Until now, though she’d suspected he knew of her affairs, Jason had maintained a discreet silence. It seemed that all at once he had stopped pretending.
She gnawed on her lip, reviewing the situation. They had been together for nearly six years, and in the early days at least his contacts had been useful. Now, admittedly, she could stand on her own, but since succumbing to Jason’s pressure to marry him, she’d come to regard an eminent husband as something of a status symbol and, to her annoyance, found she was reluctant to give him up. Also, on a practical level, she was by no means certain that Derek had marriage in mind.
She stood up suddenly, dropped her book on the sun-lounger and looked about her. All at once she was tired of the pool and the comatose brown bodies surrounding it, and, in search of something more interesting, set off across the gardens towards the gateway on Lake Road.
In the market place opposite, a coach had parked and its complement of tourists in shorts and open-neck shirts was spilling across the road towards her, making for the iron-topped tables in front of the Pavilion café. Their offspring meanwhile crowded round an adjacent ice cream kiosk, eager hands reaching up to the counter.
Tania hesitated. She had no destination in mind, but not wishing to be caught up in the crowd she turned off the footpath and made her way diagonally across the grass bank down to the lake. Queues were forming at the public jetty and she stood for a moment or two watching in amusement as the inept mariners scrambled in and out of their unaccustomed craft. Behind her, a voice said quietly, “Good afternoon.”
She turned quickly and to her surprise recognized one of the men who had been in the bar their first evening.
“Good afternoon.”
“I hope you’re enjoying your holiday?”
She met his eyes, green-brown and oddly probing, and felt a tremor of excitement. “Not particularly.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Though we can’t compete with the south of France, we’re rather fond of our little village.”
She shrugged. “It’s pretty enough, I suppose. As to the south of France, that’s precisely where I shall be in a couple of weeks.” He inclined his head with a smile and she had the absurd notion that that was why he’d mentioned it. Except, of course, that he couldn’t possibly have known.
“Have you been out on the lake?”
“Not yet.”
“Like to try it? It’s very pleasant drifting over the water on a hot afternoon.” As she hesitated, he added, “Perhaps I should introduce myself. Philip Selby at your service. Doctor of that ilk, and most respectable, I assure you.”
She smiled back, warmed by the obvious admiration in his eyes. “I don’t doubt it. Is your brother a doctor too?”
“No, one in the family is sufficient. Matthew’s a schoolmaster.”
“Really?” That might interest Jason.
“So what do you say, Mrs Quinn? May I take you sailing?”
“I’m not sure my husband would approve.”
“If he leaves you unattended, he has only himself to blame. What could possibly drag him away from you on an afternoon like this?”
It was no business of this stranger’s what Jason was doing, but to her surprise she found herself answering, “He’s trying to arrange accommodation for the rest of the summer.”
The change in her companion was startling. His head snapped up and the lazy flirtatiousness faded from his eyes.
“But – what about the south of France?”
“I said I’m going. Jason prefers to stay here. He’s gone to see a place called Rowan Cottage, and if –”
“Rowan – my God! Are you telling me Jason Quinn is thinking of taking Rowan Cottage?”
“What if he is?”
Philip Selby took a deep breath. “Sorry. It’s just that my brother and I have a flat in Rowan House.”
“Oh?” She waited but he appeared to think this was sufficient explanation for his reaction. The intent eyes were still on her face, though he was trying to speak lightly.
“He must have a very good reason for staying here instead of going abroad with you.”
“He wants to write,” she said briefly. Dr Selby appeared more interested in Jason than herself. As though reading her thoughts, he smiled placatingly.
“Then he’ll have plenty of time to sail if he wants to, but you won’t. Please come with me. I think you’d enjoy it.”
But his lapse had disturbed her and she was no longer willing to spend an hour or so in his company. That he’d envisaged a pleasant afternoon’s dalliance was obvious. How had Jason described handsome men – narcissistic?
She snapped shut the case of her sunglasses with a little click. “I don’t think so, thank you. I’m going back to the hotel for tea.”
“Can’t I persuade you to have it with me at the Pavilion?”
She shook her head. “Jason will be expecting me. Goodbye, Dr Selby.”
He gave her a rueful bow and she walked away, leaving him looking after her thoughtfully.
That little exchange had proved useful, even if it had not turned out as he’d hoped.
Jason was indeed waiting for Tania, ready to report the success of his negotiations.
“All fixed,” he told her. “I’ll go back to London with you for a couple of weeks, then Rowan Cottage is mine.”
“How long for?”
“She didn’t say definitely. Five or six weeks, I gather. Perhaps longer. She’s getting well paid for the privilege of having me, but it’s worth it from my point of view.”
“As it happens, I’ve some news for you, too. I met an admirer down by the lake.”
“Oh?”
“One of the Greek gods who was here the first evening. His name is Dr Philip Selby and he was considerably put out to hear you’re staying on, especially when I mentioned Rowan Cottage. He and his brother have a flat in the house.”
“Is that so? I wonder why my plans should concern him.”
“Furthermore,” she added deliberately, “the brother, Matthew, is a schoolmaster.”
“Here? At Crowthorpe?”
“I didn’t ask, but I should think so.”
“Well done, my love! What else did the handsome doctor have to say?”
“He did his best to persuade me to go out in a boat with him. I’m pretty sure he had designs on me, for all he insisted he was respectable.”
“And you didn’t go?”
“I don’t oblige every man who asks me, Jason!’ “But the sexiest you’ve seen in so long?”
“Yes, well I changed my mind. I didn’t particularly care for him at close quarters.”
“His loss is of course my gain,” Jason said gravely.
She looked at him sharply, but his face was inscrutable. “Suppose you stop making clever remarks and order some tea,” she said.