Unless, Paul thought, Meredith and Ann set it up then returned to the lounge. But there was not enough time. That tower of dishes must have taken many careful minutes to build. Not to mention taking out the drawers, replacing them with cushions and tying knots in the curtains. And the coals. Don’t forget the coals. Unless, his mind skipped on, Bourne, Ann and Joyce Mair did it before they joined us in the lounge. But when he saw Ann’s white face, noted the way Joyce Mair nibbled at the side of her forefinger, her eyes, wide in fear, held by the Eiffel tower of dishes, he could not bring himself to buy that one. Someone – Harry Fletcher? – laughed shortly.

‘What’s it mean?’

‘God knows.’ The sergeant stepped forward a pace, coals crunching under his feet. ‘Whatever it is, I don’t like it. What do you think, Captain?’

Pollard moved his head in perplexity.

‘I don’t know. A hint, maybe?’

The sergeant compressed his lips. He gestured almost angrily at the curtains.

‘You mean, get knotted? Or’ – he pointed to the cushions jammed into the holes in the sideboard – ‘get stuffed?’ He laughed harshly. ‘Well, I don’t like it. I don’t like it one little bit.’

Jeremy Hunt said: ‘There’s someone else in the house. Someone playing tricks.’ His right hand combed his dark beard.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Joyce Mair snapped. ‘We would have seen them. And anyway, the doors were locked when we arrived.’

‘Well, if there is, they must have spent a hellish cold night,’ said Pollard. He frowned, turned to Meredith. ‘What do you think? Is it possible there’s someone hiding in the house?’

His mouth dry, Paul watched Meredith carefully. On the screen of his mind was projected the image of the man he had seen at the upstairs window. Meredith, obviously worried, hesitated. Quite suddenly, Paul knew beyond any shadow of doubt that whatever was the explanation, he no longer believed that all the people in that room were united in a conspiracy of some sort. Some at least were genuinely puzzled and apprehensive. As if something else was dragging it from him, he found himself saying, slowly and reluctantly:

‘There is someone else. I saw him.’

8

8 Search and Seal

He could not see every face at once to judge their owners’ instantaneous reactions. But the general reaction was surprise, or downright astonishment. Alarm, uncertainty, confusion, all these were present. Meredith and Bourne’s eyes met. Bourne’s incisive, firm voice cut across the initial exclamatory gasps and cries of ‘What!’, ‘Where?’

‘You’d better explain, Mr Wilson. When did you see this person?’

Paul described the incident. As he spoke, he could not help noticing how polarized the groups had become. The television people, the two army men, Bourne and Ann, and finally Mere­dith formed four camps, each seemingly wary of the others. Meredith, his eyes troubled, asked the obvious question.