Colin Forbes - The Main chance

He walked to a cheval mirror, straightened up his clothes. Behind him she was slipping the straps back into their original position. He turned round. `Your top was higher. Deal with it.'

He walked to the door while she obeyed him. He had turned the key when she ran up alongside him, rested a hand lightly on his arm. She shook her head, then spoke in a calm voice. `Let me check the corridor. Make sure Snoop isn't prowling.' `Snoop?' `Snape. They got his name wrong. He snoops. When I am away I lock my door, take the key with me. Give me a sec.'

Unlocking the door, she strolled out slowly. She looked in both directions. Then she beckoned to him. `Coast is clear.' She went on talking as she locked the door. 'I don't expect you to believe me but it wasn't my reputation I was bothered about. It was yours.' `I believe you,' he said, not wanting to start her off again. `You'd better see the view quickly. Give you something to talk about when we get back to the library.'

He glanced at her as they walked, a foot's space between them, to the window. She was so calm now, a different woman from what he had experienced in the bedroom. They reached the window and he stared.

The solid Forest stretched half a mile away from the extension he'd observed when coming up the drive. Then it stopped. Beyond it reared up a cone- shaped peak of sheer rock. It reminded Tweed of a miniature Matterhorn. He was so hypnotized by the spectacle he stood gazing at it until Crystal plucked at his arm. `Maybe we ought to get back downstairs now. Any longer and that so-and-so Marshal will start wondering. Considering his way of life.' `You're right.'

As they made their way back to the staircase and down it Crystal began talking in the same calm tone. `Apparently, umpteen years ago a man called Pike owned the land that strange thing is on. Hence it came to be called Pike's Peak. The best hotel in Gladworth carries its name.' `Gladworth?'

She sat down on a carpeted tread and Tweed sat beside her. He reached to her back, tucked her top into her jeans. `Thanks,' she said. 'That wouldn't have looked good. Now, Gladworth. Motor down our drive. Get to the gates and you turn left. First place you come to is Gladworth, a very pretty village.' `I think we'd better get back to the library,' Tweed said, standing up.

They were all there, still gathered round the antique table. In front of Marshal on the table was a bottle of whisky. He had a half-full glass in his hands and he drank the rest as they settled round the table. Paula smiled at Crystal, who smiled back. Tweed began to speak.

"The view was extraordinary. Magnificent and startling – this grim mountain-like rock appearing above the trees.' `I was telling Mr Tweed its history. How a man called Pike-' `She's always gabbling on about something.' The insult came from a tall heavily built youth who had just entered. In his early twenties, he had thick fair hair and a longish face with a sneering mouth. He was sloppily dressed in a white pullover half inside and half outside his baggy jeans. His manner had bully written all over it. Tweed glanced at Lavinia, was for the first time aware of the deep blue of her large eyes, as blue as the Mediterranean sea in summer. She raised her thick eyebrows. `Go get me a chair, Crystal,' the youth ordered. Crystal stood up, hands on her hips, glaring at him grimly. `Everybody,' she said, her voice harsh, 'meet my beloved brother, Leo. Only seven years younger than me and hardly out of his nappies. Get your own chair!' she rasped, walking towards him. He raised a large hand to hit her.

A pair of hands descended on his shoulders from behind. A middle-aged man, shorter than Marshal but more heavily built, he had fair hair, a strong face and an air of self-control. At the first moment he saw him Tweed liked what he saw. Turning Leo round to face him, the man spoke quietly but with an air of authority. `You will now go upstairs. Change into some decent clothes. I'll have a word with you later.'

Leo obediently walked towards the door. When he thought his father wasn't looking he turned, put his tongue out at Crystal. `Before you go, Leo, apologize to your sister,' the heavily built man said as he walked towards the table. `Sorry, Crystal. I must be in a bad mood today.'

He left the room as his father was shown to her chair by his daughter. She wheeled another chair close to him. Seated, her father smiled at Tweed. `An honour to meet you. I am Warner Chance, a managing director.'

Tweed immediately spotted the difference between the two men. Marshal had said the, whereas Warner contented himself with a. It confirmed to him their clashing characters. Warner wore a neat leather jacket, a cravat at his throat and smart blue trousers. Marshal offered his guest a drink of Scotch, which Tweed refused, then refilled his own glass. `Here's to Mr Tweed taking up residence with us.' `That would be wonderful,' Crystal said, leaning on her father's shoulder. 'Then we'd have someone to protect us.'

Tweed said nothing and at that moment Snape appeared, erect as a soldier. He paused. `If I'm not interrupting…' `Oh, get on with it, man,' Marshal barked. `Mr Tweed,' Snape said politely, 'and Miss Grey, Mrs Bella sends her apologies and is ready to receive you at your convenience.'

Tweed, with Paula on one side and Lavinia on the other, crossed the large, dim hall, following Snape. They appeared to be heading for a panelled wall. Snape turned to speak over his shoulder as he pressed an invisible button in the panelling.

Two sections of the panelling opened away from each other, revealing a large square lift with a dark beige carpet on the floor, almost a shag covering. Snape spoke. `Mrs Bella has her study on the first floor, sir.' `Then why not use the staircase?' `Mrs Bella prefers visitors to use the lift.'

As they all walked inside Tweed stared at the carpet. There were deep runnels in the shag as though something wheeled had been taken up. He also spotted signs of a vacuum cleaner being used to eliminate the runnels. Snape pressed the second button up in the control panel. Below it was a brown button. They were climbing slowly, smoothly when Tweed spoke again. `What is the brown button for, then?' `Emergency,' Snape replied abruptly with a trace of annoyance.

The lift stopped, the doors opened. They stepped into a wide corridor continuing to their left where it ended in a solid panelled wall. A wall-to-wall deep-pile beige carpet covered the corridor floor. Tweed observed runnels digging deep into the carpet, broken in sections where a vacuum cleaner had attempted to eliminate them. Snape led them a short distance to their right, opened a door, led them into another large room, whose walls were lined on two sides with bookshelves and more leather-bound volumes. On the third wall were two old oil paintings, portraits of two men dressed in the clothes of long ago. `Ezra Main and Pitt Chance, founders of the dynasty,' Snape explained as he saw Tweed looking at them. `Mr Tweed,' Lavinia whispered, 'I shouldn't have come so far. If what you are going to say is confidential I'll pop back downstairs.' `I'd like you to join us,' Tweed replied, touching her arm. `Mrs Bella sometimes likes me to take notes,' she whispered back, squeezing her notebook under her arm. `Mrs Bella,' Snape announced after opening a door, `your guests. Mr Tweed and Miss Paula Grey.'

He bowed, left the room, closed the door. The study was long, the walls panelled and there were leaded- light windows which Tweed, glancing at them, realized looked out straight along the entrance drive. But it was the figure at the far end of the room which gripped him as he walked towards her.

Bella Main, eighty-four years old, sat behind a Regency desk in a tall hard-backed carver chair. Her imposing head and unlined long neck protruded above the back of the chair. He remembered she was over six feet tall.