Part 3 (1/2)

'I understood your visit was cancelled.' The woman's voice was cracked and reedy. 'You'd better come into the hall.'

Dobbs and Gaddis exchanged glances before following her inside the house. The hallway was short and led into an open area at the base of a large staircase that swept upwards into the darker reaches of the upper storey. There were portraits in the alcoves and several doors leading off. The woman left them there and her harsh footsteps clattered off into the depths of the house.

'Hardly an auspicious start,' young Gaddis commented.

'A misunderstanding, I am sure,' Dobbs said. 'It will soon be resolved once Lord Urton knows we are here. Since we are responding to his invitation he can hardly express surprise.'

'But I do, gentlemen.' The voice came from behind them, and they both turned to see who had spoken. 'Did you not get my telegram this morning?' He was standing in an open doorway, just outside the pool of light from a wall lamp.

'We have been travelling all day, sir,' Gaddis said.

'I a.s.sume that you are Lord Urton?' Dobbs inquired.

'I am indeed,' the man told them, stepping into the light. He was a thin man, his slight frame making him appear taller than he really was. His face was also thin, with angular features and a narrow nose. His high forehead led to swept*back hair, white and grey intermingled with the original brown. His eyes shone with inner brightness as he surveyed the two newcomers. 'And I a.s.sume that you are Professor Isaac Dobbs and Mr Alistair Gaddis.'

'We are. And may I ask what your telegram said, sir?' Gaddis replied.

Urton thrust his hands into his jacket pockets as he approached them. 'That much as I appreciate your interest, gentlemen, your services will no longer be required. I fear you have had a wasted trip.'

'Perhaps we shall be the judges of that,' Dobbs told him. 'While you may have extended an invitation to us, I think it would be premature for us simply to leave the matters you mentioned uninvestigated.'

'But there is nothing to investigate. A few earth tremors, that is all.'

Dobbs shot a glance at Gaddis. 'Nevertheless, whatever deductions you may have drawn, sir, we should a.n.a.lyse and investigate the situation before we draw conclusions as to an explanation.'

Urton removed a hand from his pocket and stroked his chin thoughtfully. 'I cannot, of course, order you away,' he said. 'But please be aware that circ.u.mstances have changed here. I think you will be wasting your time.' Abruptly he turned away. 'Now, gentlemen, I am rather busy. I shall have Mrs Webber organise a carriage.'

'A carriage?' Dobbs was astonished.

'To return you to the station in Ambleton,' Urton said without turning back.

'At this hour, sir?' The elderly man was almost spluttering with anger and incomprehension. 'But there will be no train back to London tonight. And in any event the journey will take hours.'

'It took us all day to get here,' Gaddis pointed out severely.

Urton turned back with a sigh. 'Then to the Midland Hotel,' he told them.

'Hardly hospitable, sir,' Dobbs said, calming slightly to adopt an air of righteous indignation. 'You promised us rooms here at your house. Even if you have changed your mind as to the necessity of our services, the least you can do is honour the promise you made as to our accommodation.'

'This is a large house, sir,' Gaddis pointed out. 'I suggest there must be some lodging available. If only for one night.'

Urton stared at them. His expression did not soften. But as he opened his mouth to reply, a voice cut in from the other side of the stairs.

'Indeed there must.' It was a woman's voice, clear and sharp. 'And whatever the case, you will at least join us for dinner.'

Lady Urton joined her husband, feeding his unhelpful arm round hers as she smiled at her guests. She was as tall as he was. Like him she was not young but not yet old. Her hair appeared to retain its natural dark colour and was tied up an her head with a precision and care that was echoed in the rest of her appearance. Her face was not conventionally pretty, but there was an aristocratic presence to it that made it attractive despite being overly angular. 'I'm sorry if my husband has been a little surly, but he seems to have a lot on his mind at present.'

'We have guests,' Urton said stiffly.

'Indeed we do,' Lady Urton replied quietly. 'So let's start treating them as such, shall we, Robert?' She turned back to Dobbs and Gaddis. 'Your luggage is outside?'

Dobbs nodded, unsure what to make of this turn of events.

'Then I shall have it brought in. Mrs Webber will show you where you can rest and recover from your journey, and she will call you for dinner in an hour.'

'Eloise,' Urton said, 'I really don't think '

'We have yet more guests for dinner,' his wife interrupted. 'It's the first Thursday of February, or had you forgotten. Matthew will be here soon. Another two diners are easily accommodated.' She smiled thinly. 'Will you excuse us, gentlemen? My husband and I have several things to discuss.'

'Of course, Lady Urton,' Dobbs said. 'And thank you.'

'Not at all. Mrs Webber will be with you in a moment. I am afraid we are rather short*staffed at present, so she has much to do.' She led her husband away. His expression as he glanced back at them was unchanged.

She waited until they were in the drawing room before she rounded on him. 'Just what do you think you are doing?' she demanded. As if in response to her sudden anger, the fire in the grate behind her flared and sputtered.

Lord Urton stared back at his wife impa.s.sively.

'You invited these men here, remember that. The least we can do is show a little decency and hospitality.' She shook her head and sighed deeply. 'I don't know what's got into you this last week, Robert, I really don't. You seem happy enough to invite that ingrate Nepath to stay despite the fact we can't afford the staff to help look after him.' She turned away so that he could not see the moisture in her eyes. 'Yet the gentlemen you yourself have invited are slung out to the Midland Hotel.'

'There is no room for them here.' There was a lack of emotion in her husband's reply. In angered her that he could be so callous, that he seemed not even to wish to discuss the matter.

'There is plenty of room here,' she told him. 'Even with Nepath taking over the West Wing, even with the crates and trunks of... of goodness only knows what that arrived this morning. And with Matthew s...o...b..ld coming for dinner, there will be plenty to eat as well.' She turned back to face him again. 'Or have you also taken against the local clergy and postponed Matthew's visit?'

'I had forgotten he was coming,' Urton confessed.

'You mean you would have put him off?' She could not believe she was hearing this. She paused, considering. When she spoke again her voice was softer, more measured. 'It's since Nepath arrived,' she said. 'What is it, Robert? What's going on?'

He met her gaze and she saw something flickering in his eyes. A reflection of the fire perhaps. 'Nepath,' he said quietly. 'Yes, we should talk to Nepath.'

'You're right,' she agreed. 'I think we should.'

She let him lead the way to the stairs that led up to the West Wing of the house. The servants' quarters had been above the West Wing, but the only servant they had been able to keep on was Mrs Webber. Now Nepath had the entire area. The rooms were all off the corridor from the top of the stairs, the main reception room was half way along.

She rarely came into this part of the house, and had not visited it since Nepath's arrival the previous weekend. The room was large, occupying the s.p.a.ce over the main drawing room on the ground floor of the house. There was another, slightly smaller, reception room off the side of it.

As her husband opened the door, she was astonished at what she saw. There were lighter patches where pictures had been removed. The furniture too had been taken out of the room and the carpet rolled back to expose bare, dusty floorboards.

In place of the furniture there were display cases running the entire length of the room. There were wooden specimen tables with gla.s.s tops in the centre of the room. Gla.s.s*fronted cases lined the walls, their shelves for the most part bare.

Every spare area of floor between the cabinets and cases it seemed was occupied by tea chests and trunks. Scrunches of newspaper and other packing materials, straw even, were pushed into the s.p.a.ces below the cabinets. And in the middle of this confusion, Roger Nepath sat ma.s.sively on the floor, cross*legged. He was examining a small statue that seemed to be carved from dark, smooth stone. It was the image of a woman, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and stomach emphasised and long hair curled round her stone head. The feet were splayed out and exaggerated. The hands were moulded to the sides of the figure.

'What is going on?' Lady Urton asked, her voice husky with surprise and irritation. 'Where is the furniture? The table...'

'Quite safely stored away, I do a.s.sure you.' Nepath pulled himself to his feet and picked his way across the room towards Lord and Lady Urton. He was a big man, broad and tall. His face had a quality like etched granite and his steel*grey hair served to emphasise the lack of colour in his face. 'As you can see,' he said waving a hand over the crates and cases, 'the bulk of my collection arrived today, mercifully intact. I was just unpacking a few items.'

'You seem,' Lady Urton said in a low voice, 'to be installing yourself for a lengthy stay.'