A Great Deliverance - By Elizabeth George Page 0,31

a farm, out in that wonderful fresh air of the dales. He eats a hearty dinner and just drops off to sleep by the fire. Bucolic bliss. So why sleeping pills?"

"It looks as if he'd only just taken them."

"Obviously. One hardly expects him to have somnambulated his way out to the barn."

She froze at once at his tone, retreated back into her shell. "I only meant - "

"Excuse me," Lynley interrupted quickly. "I was joking. I do sometimes. It relieves the tension. You'll have to try to get used to it."

"Of course, sir," she replied with deliberate courtesy.

The man accosted them as they walked over the pedestrian bridge towards the exit. He was extremely thin, anaemic-looking, obviously someone who was victim to at least a thousand different kinds of stomach problems that were the bane of his existence. Even as he approached them, he popped a tablet into his mouth and began chewing upon it with furious determination.

"Superintendent Nies," Lynley remarked affably. "Have you come all the way from Richmond to meet us? That's quite a drive for you."

"Sixty bloody miles, so let's get it straight right from the top, Inspector," Nies snapped.

He'd stopped dead in front of them, blocking their way to the stairs that would lead them down to the departures platform and out of the station. "I don't want you here. This is Kerridge's goddamned game and I've nothing to do with it. You want anything, you get it from Newby Wiske, not from Richmond. Is that perfectly clear? I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you. If you've come up here with a personal vendetta in mind, Inspector, then just shove it up your arse right now. Got it? I've not time for poncey schoolboys itching for a pretty scratch of revenge."

There was a moment of silence. Watching Nies's dyspeptic face, Barbara wondered if anyone ever spoke to Lord Asherton in such a colourful manner on his Cornish estate.

"Sergeant Havers," Lynley said mildly, "I don't believe you've ever been introduced to Chief Superintendent Nies of the Richmond police force."

She had never seen a man driven to a loss so swiftly, done with an impeccable show of manners. "Nice to meet you, sir," she said dutifully.

"Damn you to hell, Lynley," Nies snarled. "Just stay out of my way." With that, he turned on his heel and pushed his way through the crowd towards the exit.

"Nicely done, Sergeant." Lynley's voice was serene. His eyes searched through the swarm of humanity in the terminal. It was nearly noon, and the usual bustle of York's station was intensified by the lunch hour as people took the opportunity to purchase tickets, to argue car hire prices with the station agents, to meet loved ones who had timed arrivals to fit into the schedules of a working world. Lynley found the person he was looking for, said, "Ah, I see Denton up ahead," and raised his hand in acknowledgment to a young man who was approaching them.

Denton had just come out of the cafeteria, caught in the midst of a meal. He was chewing, swallowing, and wiping his mouth with a paper napkin as he dodged through the crowd. He additionally managed to comb his thick dark hair neatly, straighten his necktie, and give a quick glance at his shoes, all before reaching them.

"Good trip, my lord?" he asked, handing Lynley a set of keys. "The car's just outside."

He smiled pleasantly, but Barbara saw that he avoided Lynley's eyes.

Lynley gazed at his valet critically. "Caroline," he said.

Denton's round, grey eyes grew immediately rounder. "Caroline, my lord?" he repeated innocently. His cherubic face became, if possible, even more cherubic. He flicked a nervous glance back in the direction from which he'd just come.

"Don't "Caroline, my lord?' me. We've a few things to straighten up here before you go off on this holiday of yours. This is Sergeant Havers, by the way."

Denton gulped and nodded quickly at Barbara. "Pleased, Sergeant," he said and turned his eyes back to Lynley. "My lord?"

"Stop being so obsequious. You don't do it at home and in public it makes my skin positively crawl with embarrassment." Impatient, Lynley shifted his black overnight case from one hand to the other.

"Sorry." Denton sighed and dropped the pose. "Caroline's in the cafeteria. I've a cottage lined up in Robin Hood's Bay."

"What a romantic you are," Lynley observed drily. "Spare me the details. Just tell her to phone Lady Helen and reassure her you're not off to Gretna