10
`I phoned Shape before we started out,' Paula said.
She had just stopped her Porsche when the tall wrought-iron gates swung inwards. She drove slowly down the drive with the stately Rolls following and Newman's Mercedes bringing up the rear. `I have the oddest feeling I'm in a dream,' she remarked. 'I suppose it's because we were here so recently.'
Parking near the steps leading up to the terrace, she jumped out to where Saafeld had briskly leapt out with his bag in one hand. Of medium height and in his mid- fifties the pathologist had a shock of white hair, was clean shaven. Below his well-shaped forehead his eyebrows were thick and white, but it was the penetrating grey-blue eyes which attracted attention. His nose was long above a strong wide mouth and the jaw had a pugnacious look, although he was the least aggressive of men except when dealing with fools.
They trooped up the steps and Snape was there to greet them. He smirked and as they entered, Marshal Main, wearing a black suit with a black tie, held out a hand, smiling unctuously. Tweed made a mental note for later that neither man appeared in the least distressed.
Tweed made introductions briefly. From nowhere Chief Inspector Hammer appeared, an even more bulky figure than Paula recalled. His aggressive features appeared even more domineering. `I'll take you up to where she is, Professor,' he smarmed. `Has the body been touched by anyone at all?' Saafeld demanded. `Of course not, sir,' Hammer said with a trace of indignation. `You are quite sure about that?' Saafeld snapped. `It's my job… sir,' Hammer replied sullenly. 'This way.' `I would prefer Mr Tweed took me up. Staircase, first floor?'
It was obvious Saafeld had taken an instant dislike to the chief inspector. Which was unusual, Tweed noted, since the Professor rarely showed his reaction to anybody. He led the way across the hall. At the side of the staircase; seated in a hard-backed chair, was Lavinia.
She wore a black dress, underneath which was a white blouse with a ruffled collar. Perfect, Tweed thought, she had not overdone the mourning. He smiled at her and let it go at that.
Saafeld walked quickly, alongside Tweed, while Paula followed them. When they entered the library adjoining the study they found it was occupied by four paramedics in white coats, all standing. Saafeld gestured towards them. `I arranged for this squad to come here from Leaminster, which is closer to this mansion,' he explained to Tweed_ 'They know the way to my place at Holland Park but I'll guide them in my Rolls.'
There were four other men, uniformed policemen. Two had large cameras slung round their necks, the third carried a briefcase. One of the fingerprint experts, Paula assumed. At that moment the study door was opened from the inside and Sergeant Warden, Buchanan's personal assistant, stood in the opening. Paula was surprised. She hadn't seen him for a long time. Buchanan had moved very fast to get this technical team here already. And so had Saafeld, arranging for the paramedics to arrive from Leaminster.
Warden, clad in a business suit, as always had a wooden expression and stood very erect. He addressed Tweed as he spoke. `Since I arrived no one except myself has entered the study. May I show you in, sir?' `If I may suggest it,' Saafeld said kindly, looking at Paula, 'it might be best if Tweed and I go in first.' `I'll come out for you in a minute,' Tweed said quickly to Paula.
Paula did not feel self-conscious, standing in a room with so many strange men. She felt she should say something.
One of the photographers was eyeing her lecherously. 'Not often we get the pleasure of being so close to such a tempting lady,' he said with a leer. `George,' his fellow photographer snapped, 'clean out your friggin' mouth with a strong disinfectant.'
Paula nodded her appreciation to him, didn't look at the lecherous type. The door from the study opened and Tweed stood there. He beckoned to her. `Thank you very much,' she said to the man who had told off his fellow photographer. `Up to you whether or not you come in,' Tweed said to her lowering his voice. `I'm coming in,' she said firmly.
He closed the door behind her. Sergeant Warden was standing close to a panelled wall. Saafeld was waiting behind Bella's chair. Paula took in a silent breath. Bella was still seated in her chair, her magnificent head drooped forward. Her clothes were drenched with blood and she had a brutal collar round her neck, a collar of barbed wire with vicious spikes. The section of her neck still visible was slashed open with a deep bloodstained wound. It was one of the most horrible sights Paula had ever seen.
When she had entered the study Paula had tucked both her hands inside the pockets of her windcheater and both were now clenched tight. Her expression was calm and Saafeld was watching her closely before he spoke. `To understand how it was done you need to come behind the chair.'
She walked steadily forward with Tweed close behind her. Joining Saafeld, she saw the ends of both sections of the fiendish barbed wire-collar had small wooden handles. The handles had been drawn close together and the ends of the wire twisted together to tighten the collar. `I think I see how it was done,' she said, relieved that her voice sounded normal. `The killer stood behind this chair and dropped the necklace over her head to her neck, then grasped the handles, tied the wire together as you see.'
He spoke as though explaining an anatomical point to a class of students. She nodded as she studied the blood soaking the back of the neck. Saafeld added a comment which was out of character. `One of the most ghastly methods of murder I have so far encountered.' `I don't understand how the murderer carried what you call a necklace into the study without Bella seeing it. And whoever did this must have been someone she knew well and trusted.' A thought struck her. 'Of course it could have been carried in concealed in something like a briefcase.'
She looked at Tweed, who was keeping silent, listening to her with an expression of admiration. He nodded agreement. `But then,' Paula continued, 'the killer had to stand behind her to drop the necklace over her head.' She was glad to see Bella's short grey hair was undisturbed. There was at least some dignity left to her. The trim short cut of her hair would help the killer – the necklace would slip smoothly down over it to her neck. Do you think it took long?' she asked. `Very quick if the killer had strong agile hands. I doubt if she knew what was happening since the carotid arteries are severed.'
Paula realized her hands were no longer clenched. She took them out of her pockets and stared at the carpet as she slowly walked round the desk to join Tweed. `The rail-like gulleys we saw when we were here have gone,' she observed. `I noticed that too,' said Tweed. 'Someone has used a vacuum cleaner. I'll find out who did that and when.' `If you've seen all you need,' Saafeld said crisply, 'I need the police photographer to take pictures. The paramedics can come in. I want a sheet to cover her. I want her moved as little as possible, which means taking her away in the chair. Won't be easy navigating those stairs.' `There is a lift,' Paula told him. 'It comes up from the main hall, stops just opposite the exit door from the library.' `That's going to make things a lot easier.'
Tweed and Paula followed Saafeld to the library where he gave precise instructions. Tweed followed Paula onto the landing. She leaned over and saw Lavinia standing up while she talked to Newman. She called down. `Lavinia, could you arrange for Snape to bring the lift up to this floor? Snape should stand by the open doors until they bring out your grandmother, please.' `Consider it done,' Lavinia called back in a businesslike voice. `What now?' Paula asked as they descended the staircase. `I'm going to start interrogating people immediately. How is Lavinia?' he asked Newman as the granddaughter appeared on the far side of the hall with Snape in tow. `She's down, naturally. I've been asking her about her trips to London to get her mind on to something else. We seem to get on quite well together.' `Keep her talking. May stop her thinking…'