Precipice

'When you leave you ought to drive on to Kimmeridge. An interesting chap lives in a tiny cottage called the Bird's Nest. Useful bloke. I bumped into him in Paris. He's called Archie…'

10

When they returned to Bradfields Tweed had decided that a visit to Archie, the informant Marler also had met during his trip to Paris, would have to wait.

Marler had stayed in the back of Newman's car while the others were Kent's guests. Tweed had not invited him, which was enough to tell him, 'Stay under cover…'

The Mercedes was parked several yards behind Tweed's car and Marler had remained huddled in his corner. Now he wore wrap-around dark glasses and a deerstalker hat, which would make it impossible for someone who had not met him to recognize him.

Going into the house Tweed was surprised to find Eve in the kitchen with Paula, helping her with washing the dishes. Had Paula bulldozed her into giving a hand? The two women seemed to be chatting amiably. As Tweed entered Eve looped a tea towel over a wire hung above an old-fashioned stove to dry.

'Job's done,' she said cheerfully. 'What's next?'

'Back to the Priory for lunch, if we're not too late. Which I hope is not the case…'

As Kent accompanied them into the front garden Newman walked along a paved path leading to the patio where Kent had been chopping wood. Lifting the axe, Newman swung it high, brought it down on a very large log and split it into two smaller pieces.

'One more for the fire.' he said to Kent.

They thanked him for his hospitality and headed for their cars. Newman led the way alongside Tweed a short way ahead of the others.

'That's a very heavy axe,' he commented as they went out on to the road.

'Who is that chap who likes to keep to himself?' Eve asked chirpily. 'The man in the back of Bob's car.'

'A friend who came along for the ride.' Tweed said quickly.

'If it's all right with you I think I'll travel back with Eve in the Porsche.' Philip suggested.

'Why not?' said Tweed agreeably.

Paula joined him in his car, Tweed did a three-point turn and headed back for Corfe and Wareham, leaving the others to follow.

'Did you have to drag Eve into the kitchen by the hair?' Tweed asked.

'Not at all. She volunteered to help, just came in with me. She's a funny girl. She can be warm and friendly, and at other times she's almost rude.'

'She feels the need to assert herself, particularly in the presence of a number of men, would be my guess. I noticed Newman was very quiet while we were in the house.'

'So did I. He was studying our host and Franklin.'

'So, which one intrigued him – and why? Was it

Franklin, or Kent?'

***

They parked their cars on the Quay, the small square on the edge of the Frome. After putting money in the meters they walked the short distance to the Priory. They met trouble the moment they entered the hotel. In the shape of Chief Inspector Buchanan.

'Tweed, Newman, I need to talk to you both. On your own. Now. The lounge is empty. Follow me…'

'Really?' Tweed exploded. 'We've had no lunch and if we don't get it now we go hungry!'

'That's your problem.'

Buchanan was a tall lanky man in his forties, slim and normally with a languid manner. His grey eyes glared at Tweed. Behind him stood his assistant, Sergeant Warden, a tall clean-shaven man who always reminded Tweed of a wooden Indian. This time Warden came to life.

'It is essential the Chief Inspector questions you now.'

'Who asked you?' Tweed rapped out with a rare burst of apparent aggression.

'The lounge,' Buchanan said firmly, fingering his neat brown moustache.

'You have a warrant for our arrest?' Tweed demanded.

'No, of course not…'

'Then we're having lunch first.' Tweed glanced into the dining room where a waitress was hovering, wide-eyed. 'May we, please, all have lunch? Sorry we are rather late.'

'That's all right, sir.' the waitress replied. 'The chef is ready when you are.'

'I said the lounge.' Buchanan repeated, rasping. 'I have a very busy day.'

'Then you have two alternatives.' Tweed told him. Tf you have business elsewhere I suggest you go about it. Otherwise wait in the lounge and we will come in when we have finished a leisurely lunch.'

'You're supposed to cooperate with the police.' Buchanan snapped.

'Not at the drop of a hat – and when we're hungry. I am not arguing the point one moment longer.'

'There have been three murders I am investigating.' Buchanan said after he had come close to Tweed.

'Then what are you hanging about here for?'

'I'll expect you in the lounge after you've had your lunch. Don't take too long

'We'll take as long as we like. I'm not getting indigestion for anyone. Incidentally, you can get coffee in the lounge, and it's very good here…'

On this note, spoken in a genial tone, Tweed entered the dining room.

He skilfully manoeuvred the table placings so that he would be seated at a table by the rear wall with Paula, Newman, and Philip. Taking Eve by the arm he ushered her to another table some distance away, overlooking the garden.

'Bill,' he said to Franklin, 'would you mind looking after Eve?'

'It will be my pleasure.' Franklin agreed with zest.

'Afterwards.' Tweed went on as they sat down, 'we'll be grilled by Buchanan. I don't think you'd enjoy that, so Bill, why not take Eve for a drive out into the country? Leave the dining room quietly before we do.'

'What about Philip?' Eve demanded.

'In a few minutes I'll send him over to join you at this table. Then he can come with you on your jaunt. Don't come back too early.. .'

'What are you up to?' Paula asked quietly after they had ordered. 'I saw you scribble a brief note before you left the car when we arrived. You screwed it into a ball and tossed it into Marler's lap as you passed Bob's car.'

'The note instructed him to go straight back to the Black Bear and stay under cover with Meld – and Butler when he gets back with his car. Now, Philip, if Buchanan should grab you, you're down here with a girl friend on holiday. Don't tell him anything else. I suggest you now go and join Eve and Bill – and later go with them for a ride in the country.'

'I'll go over to their table now, then.'

'He didn't need much encouragement.' Newman commented. 'What's the strategy in coping with Buchanan? He's on the warpath.'

'You and I – with Paula – came down here because we thought Philip would be on his own. You, Paula, insisted on coming. We found he'd met a girl only after we got here. Buchanan knows how deeply affected Philip was -is – by the death of his wife, Jean.'

'And what about people like Marchat?' Paula queried.

'Never heard of him. I'm surprised Buchanan knows about Marchat.. .'

'Partridge.' Newman warned.

'Quite right. But Buchanan has caught on to Partridge very quickly – he did refer to three murders.'

'That's because of me.' Newman explained. 'Before I left Devastoke Cottage with Marler I slipped into the kitchen, where the phone is. I called Dorchester police anonymously, put a silk handkerchief over the mouthpiece to disguise my voice. Simply told them there was a dead body there, at least I thought the man was dead, so would they also send paramedics. I couldn't just walk out and leave the poor devil to rot for days.'

'You were right, again. But why Dorchester?'

'I guessed Buchanan would have established his base at Wareham police station on West Street, on the outskirts. We needed time to get clear. Dorchester would have to phone Wareham and ten-to-one Buchanan would be out.'

'Good thinking. Ah, here's the main course. I could eat a horse.'

'Let's hope you're not going to.' joked Paula.

'Not here. This is a first-rate hotel. Fuel up – we need full stomachs before we face my old friend, Buchanan…'