‘That’s fine,’ Garvald said. ‘I’ve got a car. I’d say it shouldn’t take us more than ten minutes to get there from here.’

She got to her feet and stood there, still holding the towel about her. ‘If you’d kindly get to hell out of here, I could get dressed. You’ll find a drink in the other room.’

‘Time was,’ he said and started to laugh. He was still laughing when he went into the library.

The moment the door closed, Bella sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the telephone. She dialled a number quickly and the receiver at the other end was lifted almost at once.

‘He’s here,’ she said. ‘We’ll be leaving in ten minutes.’

The receiver at the other end was replaced immediately and Bella dropped her own into its cradle and dressed quickly in slacks, knee-length Cossack boots and a heavy sheepskin coat. She stood in front of the dressing-table mirror to fasten a silk scarf peasant-fashion around her head.

Last of all, she moved across to a bureau, unlocked a drawer with a small key and took out a Smith & Wesson .38 calibre automatic. For a long moment she looked down at it, gripping the handle so tightly that her knuckles gleamed white to the bone, and then she slipped the gun into her pocket and went into the library.

Bluey Squires sat at the kitchen table and stared vacantly into space, a glass in one hand, a bottle in the other. He was thinking about his dog and he looked across at the bundle in the corner by the fire covered with an old sack.

The strange thing was that he didn’t blame Garvald. It was all Manton’s fault. Manton and that wall-eyed bastard, Donner. If they hadn’t brought Garvald to The Grange in the first place, the whole damn thing would never have happened.

There was the sound of a car drawing up outside in the yard and he got to his feet, went to the window and peered into the rain. The Jaguar was parked a couple of feet from the front door and he unlocked it quickly.

What happened then was like something out of a strange, distorted dream. The nearside door of the Jaguar opened and a large man moved out with surprising speed, a man with creased, weatherbeaten features which Squires instantly recognized.

He stood there with his mouth open and a hand like a dinner plate wrapped itself around his throat and Grant said softly: ‘Where are they, Bluey? I want ’em and I want ’em quick.’

He released his grip and Squires took a great sobbing breath. ‘Upstairs, Mr Grant. Manton’s got an office on the first floor. It’s the only other room in the house that’s furnished.’