Sam was taken aback. "Thanks," he said, "but it's not really my decision to make. If the editor's been in touch, he probably has someone in mind. I just go where I'm sent."
"Don't spin me a line, Mr. Cleave," Purdue fixed Sam with a hard stare. "Bullshit is beneath you. I am well aware that you have a great deal of leeway at the Post. It's a piffling little paper and they know they are lucky to have you. If you want to profile me, and I want to be profiled by you, I doubt they will stand on procedure. Now will you do it?"
Sam shrugged. He was not sure whether he found this stranger's directness refreshing or irritating. Judging by the look on Nina's face, which she was trying and failing to conceal, she found him irritating. "Go on then," said Sam. "I might as well."
"Hmm. Good." Purdue gave a small, contented nod, then demanded that Nina join him on the dance floor. With a despairing look at Sam, she complied.
Sam had expected that Purdue would eventually leave them alone and choose to mingle with the other guests, but he was wrong. Purdue attached himself firmly to Sam and Nina and refused to be separated from them. Nina was clearly feeling the pressure of having to be nice to the man with all the money, and while Sam felt a little sorry for her he also had to admire Purdue's tenacity. He ignored any subtle hints about circulating and stuck close to Nina. Any suggestion that Sam and Nina might be planning to leave together went straight over his head, or at least appeared to.
Purdue's presence had a couple of major benefits, though. First, it kept anyone else from trying to engage Sam in conversation and absolved him and Nina of the need for any further socializing. Second, Purdue was clearly another heavy drinker. No champagne tray was allowed to pass without new glasses being collected, and Sam found himself beginning to get a little dizzy. Whisky he could handle, but his system was not use to champagne. He scrutinized Nina in case she needed help, but despite her petite stature she was holding her drink better than Sam was. Perhaps if you have to go to a lot of these things you build up a tolerance, Sam speculated. Either that or Nina just happened to be remarkably hardheaded.
Several glasses and increasingly clumsy dances later, Purdue suddenly announced that he wanted to go home.
"Are you sure?" Nina asked. "I know the dean of faculty was particularly hoping to speak to you and I don't think he's had a chance to catch you yet."
Purdue glared over at the dean. "Nonsense," he said. "If he needs to contact me, he can email me. I've had enough of crushes for tonight." He reached for his mobile phone. The device he pulled out looked the way a Smartphone might be expected to look in fifty years. It was smart and shiny, nearly paper thin. Purdue held it delicately in his hand and spoke into it. "Call driver," he said, then looked up. "There. We will be on our way shortly." A brief moment later it beeped in confirmation that Purdue's driver was indeed on the way to collect him.
"Now," he said, draping one arm around Nina. "All I need to make tonight perfect is for you to join me for a nightcap. Don't worry. I shall have my driver drop you off at home afterward."
Sam hurried forward, certain that Nina's look of apprehension was not motivated by concern about travel arrangements. He laid a hand on Purdue's arm. "Sorry, Mr. Purdue," he said gently. "But I promised Nina that I would see her home. I really can't let you…"
"Nonsense." Purdue's look of annoyance gave him the air of a discontented heron. "She will be perfectly safe with me. I shall make sure that she gets home in one—"
"Excuse me," Nina piped up. "I'm quite capable of seeing myself home. Thanks, Mr. Purdue, but I'm really not looking for anyone to go home with. Thanks all the same." She disengaged herself from Purdue's hold, but he caught her by the wrist.
"Forgive me, Nina," he said. "I believe you have the wrong impression. I am not asking you to join me for a nightcap because I hope that you'll sleep with me, although I would be delighted if you would. No, I am asking you because there is something I need to discuss with you and do not wish to do so here, surrounded by prying eyes and ears." Sam thought he detected a sidelong glance from Purdue.
"What is it you need to discuss?" Nina asked suspiciously.
"Your Antarctic expedition."
Nina gaped at Purdue. Sam caught himself doing the same. How does he know about it? he wondered.
"Now if you will come with me, I can discuss it with you."
Nina was torn. On the one hand, she clearly did not want to go with Purdue and find herself at a disadvantage, stuck in a strange place with a man who had been making his intentions clear all evening. On the other, she did not want to reject the possibility of help. As subtly as she could, she gave Sam a nudge.
"What? Oh, errr — yes." Sam stuttered. "Look, Mr. Purdue, I really did promise Nina that I'd get her home safely, so maybe—"
Purdue cut him off. "As the lady herself has said, she is more than capable of looking after herself. However, since you feel so vehemently about protecting her, why don't you come too? If you're going to write about me you might as well see my new place, and my driver can just as easily take two of you home."
So Sam and Nina found themselves in the back of Purdue's 4x4. "Less stylish than a limousine, I know," he said, as the driver moved aside to let Purdue climb into the front and take the wheel. "But you'll see why I prefer this when we get to my place. Especially if it keeps snowing."
Sure enough, a thin layer of snow had settled over the Old Town while they had been at the ball. The snow was intermittent, taking the form of occasional swirls rather than anything heavier, but Sam guessed from Purdue's words that they would be going out of town. Even on the cobbles of the city center, the four-wheel drive was proving its worth. Sam had never traveled in such a comfortable vehicle.
They wound through the city streets, sparkling with fairy lights as the tourists poured in for Christmas, then out through the quiet suburbs. Eventually they sped out of the city entirely, tearing along the main road toward the Forth Road bridge. I'm hardly ever out this way, Sam thought, but that's twice this month. This was the route he and DCI Smith had taken on their journey out to the retirement home. Only at the end of their journey did the 4x4 turn in a different direction, heading off the main road and onto a series of twisting dirt tracks.
"This isn't the actual road up to the house, of course," Purdue called back over his shoulder. "But it's by far my preferred route. I do hope you're both properly strapped in back there."
As the car swung gut-churningly off the main road, Sam noticed a light coming from behind them. He craned his neck to look behind and saw another 4x4 hot on their heels. "Is that other car meant to be following us?"
Purdue stared at his rearview mirror for a moment. "Yes," he said. "That's Blomstein. My bodyguard. Discreet, isn't he?"
"Has he been around all evening?" Nina asked. "I didn't notice a bodyguard at the ball."
"I asked him to keep his distance. He's rather imposing, and I didn't want you to think that you had no choice about accompanying me here."
Despite the car's excellent suspension, Sam and Nina were bounced about until their teeth rattled as Purdue raced along the dirt track. Ditches and potholes only encouraged him to go faster. "This is why I love private roads!" he yelled. "Welcome to Wrichtishousis!"
They rounded one last bend at high speed, then screeched to a halt before an impressively grand house. Sam guessed that there were about fifty windows on the front side of the central building alone. Other buildings sprawled out to the sides, but he could only guess at their function. Stables, perhaps? Servants' quarters?