his closest friend to help.’
James Lincoln said in a faint voice, ‘How can I? the police …’
‘To hell with that,’ Blair had said in the same soft chilling tone he’d used when he said ‘Remember me to your family’ ‘You can make them listen to you, and by God, you will, if you know what’s good for you.’
‘How dare you threaten my father!’ Courtney was disgusted to hear how young and breathless she sounded.
‘Because the real threat’s to my uncle.’ He hardly looked at her. All his attention was concentrated on the pale-faced man in the chair in front of him. ‘For God’s sake, man, you can’t let this happen to him. He’s your friend!’
‘Friend?’ Courtney intervened fiercely when James Lincoln remained silent. ‘A fine friend he’s been! He’s lied to us, and cheated and stolen. He deserves to be in jail!’
Blair gave her a contemptuous look. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said shortly. ‘So you’d better keep quiet. This is between your father and myself.’ He turned back to James Lincoln. ‘Now are you coming with me to put up bail for him willingly, or do I have to make you?’
He seemed to loom towards them, and Courtney saw her father shrink. She snatched at a heavy crystal ashtray on the desk in front of her and threw it at Blair. He moved sharply to avoid it, but one corner caught him a glancing glow on the cheekbone, and he swore violently.
She said, ‘He’s not going anywhere with you, Blair Devereux, and if you don’t leave the house, I’m going to call the police, and you’ll find that you’re in jail as well as your uncle!’
He looked past her at James Lincoln. He said harshly, ‘You could be condemning him to death. You realise that—and yet you’re still not prepared to do anything. My God!’
James Lincoln said again, ‘I can’t …’ and his voice faded as if he was exhausted.
The talk of death scared Courtney, and her voice rose hysterically. ‘Get out of here—get out! Leave us alone! Haven’t you done enough harm? Can’t you see he’s ill?’
And his final damning reply, ‘He deserves to be ill—and more.’
She raised her head, shuddering inwardly. In her secret heart, she’d always blamed Blair for bringing that stroke on her father. He’d been shattered by the realisation that his partner had become a criminal, but he would have come round. He would have made good the losses and survived and carried on. But that scene with Blair had destroyed him, and he was never the same again. And the news that Geoffrey Devereux had succumbed to a heart attack in his cell had proved the final intolerable straw.
Courtney wondered if Blair knew about her father’s stroke. She could imagine him receiving the news with a kind of grim satisfaction, and he would have reacted to the information that the Lincolns had lost their home and everything they possessed in the aftermath in exactly the same way. He blamed them for his uncle’s death, as if in some way it conferred a posthumous innocence. He seemed to forget that nothing could justify the kind of injury Geoffrey Devereux had done them all. His death had been tragic, but he was in jail because he deserved to be, and Blair Devereux had had no right—no right at all, to try and bully her father into mitigating the course of justice. It was cruel of him, she thought passionately.
But then he was cruel. She had never doubted it even for that brief time when he had shown her some tenderness. Because that had been calculated from the beginning, although she was unable to understand his motives. Probably it was simply because she had always been impervious to his undoubted charm, and this had piqued him. He was a predator, pure and simple, although she would never have described Blair Devereux as either pure or simple.
She heard the sound of a horn, and jerking upright, she saw the Porsche drive past, and Blair lift a mocking hand in imitation of her own attempted casual goodbye.
Damn him, she thought. She had driven this way in order to avoid him, because she thought he would be going back to the White Hart, and now he’d seen her skulking in this layby, and God only knew what conclusions he would draw from that, but they would probably be quite correct.
And now she had to drive back to the village and speak to Robin, when all she really wanted to do was find somewhere to hide. Which was ridiculous, because she had nothing to fear from Blair. He was the one who should be avoiding them, which made his unexpected return even more troubling. For the past three years she had tried to convince herself that he was part of a bad dream. Well, she was wide awake now and all her senses were jumping. The bird of ill omen had returned, and there could be storm clouds gathering on the horizon even now.
Robin was talking on the phone when she arrived back, and when he replaced the receiver he looked almost jaunty, and she was sorry she had to dispel his optimistic mood.
She said without preamble, ‘Blair Devereux was at the house just now. I thought you should know.’
‘Blair?’ His voice rose incredulously, and he stared at her. ‘What the hell did he want? What did he say?’
She shrugged. ‘Not a great deal, but he made me—uneasy.’ And that was putting it mildly, she thought wryly.
Robin looked rigid with dismay. ‘And he was at the house. Did—did he seem interested in it? Does he know it’s for sale?’
‘Of course. He’d have hardly been wandering around if the Hallorans had been in residence.’
Robin gestured impatiently. ‘I mean—does he know the auction’s tomorrow?’
‘I’ve no idea. I certainly didn’t tell him.’ Courtney eyed him measuringly, wishing that she had said nothing. He looked as if he was going to be sick.
Robin chewed at his lip. ‘Is he still at Hunters Court?’
Courtney shook her head. ‘No, he left just after me. He’s staying at the White Hart,’ she added.
Robin groaned. ‘God, that’s all I need! Then he does know about the auction.’
‘It’s hardly a State secret.’ She was trying to make him smile. ‘There’ll be other people there beside you. It’s a public auction.’
Rob said miserably, ‘I know that—but he’s one member of the public I could do without.’
‘But you can’t stop him going,’ she pointed out. ‘And he can’t be that interested or he’d have got the key from Paxton’s.’
‘What would he need to see?’ Robin demanded. ‘He knows that house almost as well as we do.’
‘That’s true.’ Courtney drew a deep breath. ‘Rob, I just can’t believe it. Why should he want Hunters Court? It makes no sense.’
He said heavily, ‘Envy. Bitterness. I can think of a list of reasons. You didn’t know him as well as I did in the old days.’
‘I didn’t want to know him,’ she said drily. ‘But I find envy hard to swallow. Why should he envy us?’
‘I don’t know much about his background,’ said Robin. ‘But I do know there wasn’t much money. That was probably why he attached himself to dear
