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wanted to bring you and Alan in on it. Jeremy’s talking of hiring a private detective but I don’t want that. What could a private investigator do anyway, that the police can’t?’
‘In this case, not much, I imagine,’ Meredith said. ‘You’re right to discourage Jeremy.’
Alison gave a little laugh. ‘Discouraging Jeremy is a bit like trying to stop a bolting horse! I just want all this cleared up before he starts bringing in goodness knows who. The stress isn’t good for him. He looks calm but he’s fizzing away underneath it all. If it’s not settled soon, I really do fear for his heart.’ She hesitated. ‘Another reason I don’t want a private detective involved, someone reporting to Jeremy, is that, if the gumshoe did find out who was responsible and told Jeremy, then I really fear Jeremy might take the law into his own hands.’
Chapter Four
‘So what do you think?’ Alan asked Meredith as they drove away from the house between the long lines of chestnut trees towards the main gates.
‘I think Alison is very frightened and Jeremy very angry. She’s frightened because she’s been targeted by hate mail and she’s scared of what her husband might do if he finds out the writer’s identity. He’s talking about hiring a private detective.’
‘Is he?’ Alan said thoughtfully, ‘I may have to have a word with him about that. He’s entitled to do it but we wouldn’t welcome it. Hello, what’s this?’
A figure was waiting for them just inside the main gates. Fiona Jenner had stepped forwards from the dappled shade of the last tree, and held up her hand to signal them to stop. A breeze had sprung up and caught her long fair hair and the gauzy smocked top, causing both to flutter. Meredith felt a spurt of unease, as if they had been presented with a form which, if not quite unearthly, was at least an unknown quantity. Markby stopped the car.
Fiona came to his window and stooped. ‘I want to talk to you,’ she said in her direct way.
Markby’s only reply was to stretch his arm over the back of his seat and disengage the rear door latch. Fiona slid elegantly inside and pulled the door shut. Both Alan and Meredith had twisted in their front seats to be able to face her. There was a silence.
Fiona used it to stare at them with that casual arrogance of youth. She was leaning back in the corner of the car, her head
resting against the inner lining. Her windswept long hair lay in tangled skeins across her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed pink, either from the wind or because she was in the grip of some emotion. It wasn’t, thought Meredith, because Fiona was in any way embarrassed at having flagged them down.
Fiona asked suddenly, ‘Do you think you’ll find him?’
The question was addressed to Markby and he answered it. ‘I should think so. It may take a little time but we usually get these jokers.’
Her smooth forehead puckered briefly and she began to twist one strand of long blond hair round her index finger. ‘Do you think he wants money?’ The twisting finger was stilled.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘He probably does.Your father is a wealthy man.’
A look compounded of scorn and something very like quiet satisfaction crossed her face. ‘Then he’s got it wrong. Daddy won’t pay. He’s not that sort. My father is boardroom man, writ large. If you want anything from Daddy you have to put it in writing, three copies, and justify the expenditure. He’s furious.’
‘So are you, I fancy.’
She sniffed. ‘I couldn’t give a toss. But, you know, it’s making life bloody difficult at home. Alison’s twitchy. Daddy’s brooding darkly. Toby keeps on saying it will be all right. How does he know?’
‘Look, it’s an upsetting business—’ Markby began.
She interrupted, shaking her head. ‘You don’t understand. You don’t know my father. What upsets him is that he can’t control this “in-house”, as he’d describe it. He’s had to turn to the police,
‘In this case, not much, I imagine,’ Meredith said. ‘You’re right to discourage Jeremy.’
Alison gave a little laugh. ‘Discouraging Jeremy is a bit like trying to stop a bolting horse! I just want all this cleared up before he starts bringing in goodness knows who. The stress isn’t good for him. He looks calm but he’s fizzing away underneath it all. If it’s not settled soon, I really do fear for his heart.’ She hesitated. ‘Another reason I don’t want a private detective involved, someone reporting to Jeremy, is that, if the gumshoe did find out who was responsible and told Jeremy, then I really fear Jeremy might take the law into his own hands.’
Chapter Four
‘So what do you think?’ Alan asked Meredith as they drove away from the house between the long lines of chestnut trees towards the main gates.
‘I think Alison is very frightened and Jeremy very angry. She’s frightened because she’s been targeted by hate mail and she’s scared of what her husband might do if he finds out the writer’s identity. He’s talking about hiring a private detective.’
‘Is he?’ Alan said thoughtfully, ‘I may have to have a word with him about that. He’s entitled to do it but we wouldn’t welcome it. Hello, what’s this?’
A figure was waiting for them just inside the main gates. Fiona Jenner had stepped forwards from the dappled shade of the last tree, and held up her hand to signal them to stop. A breeze had sprung up and caught her long fair hair and the gauzy smocked top, causing both to flutter. Meredith felt a spurt of unease, as if they had been presented with a form which, if not quite unearthly, was at least an unknown quantity. Markby stopped the car.
Fiona came to his window and stooped. ‘I want to talk to you,’ she said in her direct way.
Markby’s only reply was to stretch his arm over the back of his seat and disengage the rear door latch. Fiona slid elegantly inside and pulled the door shut. Both Alan and Meredith had twisted in their front seats to be able to face her. There was a silence.
Fiona used it to stare at them with that casual arrogance of youth. She was leaning back in the corner of the car, her head
resting against the inner lining. Her windswept long hair lay in tangled skeins across her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed pink, either from the wind or because she was in the grip of some emotion. It wasn’t, thought Meredith, because Fiona was in any way embarrassed at having flagged them down.
Fiona asked suddenly, ‘Do you think you’ll find him?’
The question was addressed to Markby and he answered it. ‘I should think so. It may take a little time but we usually get these jokers.’
Her smooth forehead puckered briefly and she began to twist one strand of long blond hair round her index finger. ‘Do you think he wants money?’ The twisting finger was stilled.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘He probably does.Your father is a wealthy man.’
A look compounded of scorn and something very like quiet satisfaction crossed her face. ‘Then he’s got it wrong. Daddy won’t pay. He’s not that sort. My father is boardroom man, writ large. If you want anything from Daddy you have to put it in writing, three copies, and justify the expenditure. He’s furious.’
‘So are you, I fancy.’
She sniffed. ‘I couldn’t give a toss. But, you know, it’s making life bloody difficult at home. Alison’s twitchy. Daddy’s brooding darkly. Toby keeps on saying it will be all right. How does he know?’
‘Look, it’s an upsetting business—’ Markby began.
She interrupted, shaking her head. ‘You don’t understand. You don’t know my father. What upsets him is that he can’t control this “in-house”, as he’d describe it. He’s had to turn to the police,
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