Colin Forbes - The Main chance

Then he stood up, still strumming his instrument, and began a little dance, jerking the guitar upright, then down. He appeared absorbed in what he was doing. `I would appreciate it,' Tweed said, 'if you'd sit down and play your guitar when we're gone.' `I'm eccentric. Everyone at Hengistbury thinks so.

What do I care? I was once grabbed and put in a clinic.'

As he spoke he stopped dancing. Throwing the guitar back on to the bed, he sat down again in the wicker chair. Crossing his legs he waggled one up and down. Can't keep still for a minute, Paula thought. He sat hands clasped together, his fingers interlaced. `Why were you put in a clinic?' Tweed enquired. `Thought I was potty. At least Marshal did. Took me to a place in a house the other side of Gladworth. Couple of trick-cyclists, as Churchill called them. Psychiatrists to you. One Mr Kahn, a negro. The other Mr Weatherby, white. I chattered a lot of rubbish to confuse them.' `Your father took you there?' `He did not! Marshal took me. My father was in America on business. When he got back and found out what had happened he blew his top at Marshal, punched him. Never known Dad hit anyone before. He got in the car, drove to the clinic, brought me home – after telling those two guys they were fakes. Soon afterwards the clinic closed. Weatherby and Kahn disappeared abroad into the wild blue yonder. The rumour was they were caught in a tax fiddle. Have you interviewed the others?' he asked suddenly. `Some of them,' Tweed replied cautiously. `So all you've heard is a pack of lies. They're all liars. Bet no one's told you about the back door left open on the night of Bella's murder.' `You tell me, please.' `Mrs Grandy, our delightful cook and housekeeper, has the responsibility of checking it last thing. On that night I couldn't sleep. I was thirsty, so I went down to make a pot of tea. Switched on the kitchen light and saw the back door was half open. At two in the morning. I closed and locked it, made my tea, brought it up here.' `Was anyone else about?' Paula asked. `No, honey, not a living soul. Although I thought I heard the door to the upstairs library being shut. It creaks. Decided it was my imagination.' `You have been very cooperative,' Tweed said as he stood up to leave.

A smirk appeared on Leo's face and quickly vanished. `The kitchen and Mrs Grandy next,' Tweed said grimly as they descended the stairs. 'Someone else I've missed.' `What did you think of Leo?' Paula wondered. 'I'm sure he's not potty. He seemed to be very articulate.' `I didn't like the smirk on his face at the end. It suggests "I got away with it".'

At the top of the staircase they met Lavinia. As always, she was smartly dressed. Today she was wearing a pleated blue skirt, a polo-neck sweater, gleaming shoes. Her swathe of black hair might have just been attended to by a Mayfair hair-dresser. `We've just heard disturbing news,' Tweed said. `How do we get to the kitchen?' `I'll show you.

Snape was hanging round in the hall and Lavinia said no more. She waited until they were walking along a narrow corridor, pointing out a narrow flight of steps the servants used. A young maid was passing. Lavinia stopped her, adjusted her cap, smiled and proceeded along the corridor.

Arriving at a heavy door, she pushed it open, led them into the kitchen, a vast oblong room. Here hygiene and hard work took the place of panelling. The walls were of stone, as was the spotless floor. The equipment was very modern, including two mammoth- sized refrigerators.

At the far end was a large wooden table where a well-built woman in her fifties was chopping meat. She ignored the intruders. Lavinia spoke in a clear voice tinged with authority. `Sorry to interrupt the work, Mrs Grandy, but this is the police. Deputy Assistant, that is Chief of the SIS and his assistant, Paula Grey.'

Mrs Grandy, a hard-faced disagreeable-looking woman with grey hair, tight mouth, aggressive curved nose and dark hostile eyes, turned round. She glared at Lavinia. She raised the meat cleaver, and Paula thought she was going to slice more meat. Instead she swung the cleaver down with a ferocious sweep and thudded it into the table. Other scars in the wood showed where she had performed this act before.

Standing with her arms akimbo, she glared contemptuously at Paula, transferred the gaze to Tweed and finally to Lavinia. `How in the name of the devil do you expect me to get my work done with these useless interruptions? I have already chased a rude chief inspector out of here with my meat cleaver.' `You could have been arrested,' snapped Paula. `Rested, you say? He ran out like a scared rabbit.' `Mrs Grandy,' Tweed said firmly, `I'm here to find out who murdered Mrs Bella Main. You will answer all the questions I put to you. For example, where were you on the night of the murder between the hours of 7 p.m. and 10 p.m.?' `You accusing me of murder?' she growled. 'Get my lawyer on you. That I will.' `Just answer the question. Unless for some reason you're feeling in need of a lawyer.' `Mrs Grandy,' Lavinia intervened quietly, 'everyone in this house has had to answer these questions, including Mr Marshal and Mr Warner.'

Not Warner yet, Tweed thought, but kept quiet. `Between the hours of 7 p.m. and 10 p.m., please?' he repeated. `All right.' Mrs Grandy drew herself up to her full height. 'I served dinner in the library that night at 6 p.m. They prefer it to the dining room – Lord knows why. The rest of that evening I was in here, eating my own meal, then preparing for the next day.' `Anyone come in here while you were preparing?' `They know better.' Mrs Grandy glared. 'Better than to come in while I'm working.' `Absolutely no one came in here that evening?' he persisted. `Just told you that, didn't I?' `Mrs Grandy, I gather one of your duties is to make sure the back door over there is secured for the night. Did you do so on the night Mrs Bella Main was murdered?' `Course I did.' `Actually I normally check too,' Lavinia said. 'That night Mrs Grandy was having trouble with a souffle so I left her to check the door.' `A souffle?' Paula frowned. 'Surely that has to be made not long before serving?' `Oho! We have a cooking expert!' Mrs Grandy sneered. 'I eats the same as my employers. Warner sees to that. So I'm hungry and feels just like a souffle. First time it flops, so I start all over again. It was half-past eleven before I felt better after eating the second one. A bit tired by then, I was.' `A member of the household told me when they came down here at 2 a.m. that door was open.'

No one asked Tweed which member of the household had told him, though it was a question he had expected. With Paula he walked over to the now partly open door. There was an ordinary lock and the door itself was made of ordinary wood. He had found the loophole in Hengistbury's security.

He opened it wide, walked out with Paula and Lavinia at his heels. There was a narrow path through grass backed up by the menacing walls of The Forest. Tweed asked where the path led to. `To Snape's cottage,' Lavinia told him. Tut I'd better come with you. It's easy to lose your way.' `Thank you, but not now. We have to visit the police in Gladworth to keep them quiet. So you didn't have any opportunity to check this door was locked on the night of the murder?' `No. I'd been wading through a mass of accounts and I was very tired. When I heard Mrs Grandy was still in the kitchen I didn't want a row. A lapse on my part.' `You can't be responsible for everything,' Tweed said with a smile. Now we really must get into Gladworth before that Inspector turns up here…'

At the bottom of the stairs Tweed and Paula met Sergeant Warden. He gestured to them to follow him onto the terrace. `Thought I should tell you, sir, that soon after the two of you entered Leo's room I saw someone was listening outside the door. Looked as though they might have been there for some time.' `Man or woman?' asked Tweed. `Difficult to be sure. I think it was a man. I only saw a shadow. Then Chief Inspector called to me to help with the search. I'd been leaning over the banister on the upper floor. Not a good viewing point.' `Who do you think it could have been?' Paula asked when Warden had left them, disappearing into the library. `I haven't a clue. Place is crawling with people.'