since, of course.â
Lloyd said nothing. Seale was grinning broadly.
âWhere were you yesterday afternoon, Lloyd?â
âOh no!â He shook his head in disbelief. âYouâve been watching so much telly youâve got square eyes.â His face hardened. âDid he send you here? I donât believe it. Why wouldnât he come himself?â
âMr Judson,â Evans said with dignity, âhas business to attend to in Liverpool.â Seale turned interested eyes on him. âHe intimated that it was likely you knew more than had been divulged so far at this point in time.â
Lloyd grimaced in disgust.
âSo he said: âGo and lean on themâ,â Seale observed.
âHe didnât mean you,â Evans said quickly, and handed her the shotgun. âAlthough this isnât the first time you handled firearms, is it?â
âNo.â She studied him. âWhat are you going to make of that? Usually itâs rifles,â she added when he didnât reply. ââLean on them"? Whoâs âthemâ?â
âThe local hooligans.â
âGood for you.â She turned and went into the cottage.
âRight,â Lloyd said. âLetâs see your dust. Weâre leaving and I donât want you skulking around this place while Iâm away.â
âItâs our place,â Evans pointed out with a thin smile.
âThatâs immaterial. Itâs my possessions inside. Thatâs why I donât want you hanging around.â
Seale looked out. âAnd that goes for my tent too. Just remember Iâm under your masterâs protection.â
Evans stood for a moment, sucking his teeth, then he walked away. Iâll get him, he thought, Iâll get him if itâs the last thing I do â and that dirty little whore with him.
âI had heard rumours,â Ted Roberts said, filling Miss Pinkâs glass from the decanter. âBut you know how people gossip, and one must admit that in these times, when a man has stuff worth stealing in his house, and he owns guard dogs, heâs not averse to spreading the story himself that theyâre savage. Whereâs the deterrent in a dog without teeth?â
âThere is that.â
They had met at a hotel on a lake below a stony pass. Thirty miles from the Bridge Hotel, Miss Pink had confessed to a sense of outrage as she explained why she was afraid to take a walk in the area she had chosen for a weekâs holiday. Ted Roberts, retired solicitor, old friend and climbing partner, had listened with sympathy but not without objectivity.
âWhat are the rumours youâve heard?â she asked.
His foxy face sharpened further as he hitched his chair closer and, their backs turned to the distant bar, they gazed through the open window to the boulder fields beyond the water. But neither was interested in the view.
âNot only dogs,â he said. âWomen.â
She was disappointed. âThatâs obvious. Iâve been there only two days and heâs chasing a new arrival while a lady who is either his last conquest or feels that she should have been, is beside herself with bad temper. His wife is Resignation on a monument.â
âIt was Patience on the monument.â
âIf Gladys Judson has anything to wait for, it will be useless to her by the time she gets it.â
âMeaning Judson?â
âBlood pressure if ever I saw it. Drinking heavily, riding hard, violent quarrels, frenetic sex.â
âYou shock me. How do you know that?â
âHe doesnât choose placid women, with the exception of his wife. Anna Waring â you know her?â
âThatâs ancient gossip.â
âEvidently that was what you were about to tell me. Sheâs violent, but the new girl, the one heâs chasing, is too much for him altogether: vital, confident, strong and, I would say, totally
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