“It would be fifty-two and a half per cent. A slim but decisive majority. I can do the maths, Bella.” I put down my fork and sipped some wine. “But not the guesswork. Why would you vote with us?”

“Because the outcome doesn’t matter to me anything like as much as it matters to you. I can turn down Bushranger’s offer without a second thought. Whether Timariot & Small make a profit or a loss doesn’t make a lot of difference to me. I’d prefer a profit, of course. Who wouldn’t? I’d prefer twenty per cent of two and a half million pounds. Naturally. But I don’t need it. Not as much as I need something else.”

“And that is?”

“Your help.”

“With what?”

She leant across the table and lowered her voice. “Proving Paul Bryant didn’t murder Louise Paxton and Oscar Bantock.”

“What?” I found myself whispering as well.

“I want you to help me break his story. Find the flaw that’s got to be there. Prove he couldn’t have done it.”

“But he did do it. You know that as well as I do. Last week, you virtually said as much.”

“Last week was last week. As Keith pointed out, there are inaccuracies in his account. Suspicious ambiguities.”

“No there aren’t.”

“There are grounds for doubt,” she persisted. “Enough to warrant close scrutiny.”

“Well, they’ll get close scrutiny. From the police.”

“Naylor’s solicitor has only just submitted Paul’s affidavit to the Crown Prosecution Service. It could be weeks before the police investigation gets under way. And very messy when it does. In the meantime, there’s a chance to forestall it. To make it unnecessary. To spare ourselves a great deal of agony.”

“How do you know what Naylor’s solicitor’s been up to?”

“I asked him, of course. He didn’t seem to mind telling me. Well, why should he? He’s feeling very pleased with himself. For the moment.”

I sat back in my chair and shook my head. “Bella, this is ridiculous. You know Paul’s telling the truth. How can you-”

“I know no such thing. I’ve come round to Keith’s point of view. That it’s possible Paul’s loading all this guilt onto himself to compensate for the guilt he feels about Rowena. That he wants to be punished. And has made up this story to ensure he will be.”

“You don’t believe that. You can’t.”

“Maybe not. But I don’t disbelieve it either. I simply want to test the possibility.”

“Before your husband-and you-get a lot of unwelcome publicity?”

“Well? What if that is my motive? I’m sure I’ve never claimed to be a humble seeker after truth. If posing as one pleases you, be my guest.”

“Bella, you advised me a couple of months ago to take the money and run. Now you’re proposing to turn your back on half a million pounds.”

“Yes. But some things are more important than money. You want to save Timariot and Small from the barbarians. I want to save Keith from having his first wife portrayed as a nymphomaniac.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

“By checking Paul’s story. If he’s lying, he can’t have been in Kington the day of the murders. Or Biarritz a few days beforehand. He must have been somewhere else. So, there’ll be an alibi, won’t there? An alibi he’s doing his best to conceal. Possibly more than one. Start with his family. They might know something. It can’t be anything obvious, or they’d have mentioned it. Paul has told them, by the way. Keith had a phone call from Mr. Bryant. The man was barely coherent, but he should have calmed down by now. He might be able to put you on the right track. Then there’s this friend Paul went round Europe with, Peter-”

“You expect me to cross-question these people?”

“Yes, Robin. I most certainly do. And anyone else who might lead us to the truth.”

“In exchange for voting down the Bushranger bid?”

“Exactly. A generous offer, don’t you think?”

But much of what I thought I couldn’t afford to express. My glorious defeat was in danger of becoming a Pyrrhic victory. Yet I couldn’t help wanting it. Harvey McGraw’s millions thrown back in his face. Adrian’s self-serving plans spectacularly sabotaged. And Timariot & Small’s independent status dramatically saved. It was an alluring prospect. And yet- “Why not do it yourself? You don’t need me to turn over the stones.”

“I do, actually.” She fiddled with the stem of her wine glass and licked her lips nervously. Her gaze slipped to the plate in front of her. “You see, Keith’s forbidden me to approach anyone. He’s afraid that if it got to be known I’d been digging around… Well, he’s concerned people might think he was trying to prevent a miscarriage of justice coming to light simply to protect his good name.”

“And they’d be right. His good name-and yours. Aren’t they what all this is about?” As I said it, the incredulity hit me. Marrying a knight couldn’t have made Bella that conscious of her reputation. There were too many skeletons in her cupboard for her to think half a million pounds worth staking on the slim chance of keeping just this one under lock and key. There had to be more to it. “Or is there something else you haven’t let slip yet? Something more important than being able to hold your head high in the thalassotherapy clinic?”

“I just want to do what can be done. Before it’s too late.”

“But the police have as good a reason as you to want to discredit Paul’s story. And they have the resources and the expertise to do it. If it’s possible. What do you seriously think I can achieve?”

“I don’t know. Until you’ve tried.”

“But Bella-”

“Will you do it?”

It was a small price to pay, I reasoned. I needn’t do much more than go through the motions. A few uncomfortable and inconclusive conversations would be the end of it. I could still take my escape route to Brussels, of course. But just the thought of the expression on Adrian’s face when he realized he’d lost was enough to ensure I wouldn’t. Along with the niggling doubt I’d cornered but still not crushed. The truth never seemed to be complete. Even Paul’s confession left several questions unanswered. Now I had the perfect incentive to ask them. And nothing to lose in the process. So far as I could see. “I could say I’d do it, Bella, and change my mind after tomorrow’s meeting. What then?”

She smiled. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“How can you be sure I wouldn’t?”

“Because, in your own mixed up kind of way, Robin, you’re an honourable man. Quite possibly the only one I know. You really believe the claptrap you spouted about Timariot and Small embodying certain values that are worth defending at all costs. And I imagine honouring a bargain is one of those values.”

I shrugged, unsure how to respond to such a back-handed compliment. “Maybe it is, at that.”

“Which also makes me confident you’ll abide by the one condition I have to impose.” She waited for me to look quizzically across at her before continuing. “Whatever you find out about Paul, good or bad, you’ll bring to me first. Before you tell anyone else.” She paused, then added with solemn emphasis: “Whatever it might be.”

“Won’t that be difficult, if Keith’s to go on thinking you’ll comply with his request not to interfere?”

“Keith needn’t know anything about it. We can communicate by telephone under the guise of business discussions. Some may genuinely be necessary after tomorrow’s meeting. Adrian won’t take defeat lying down. Of course, I can always pop back here if things become… urgent.”

“How will you explain your change of mind to Keith?”

“The same way I’ll explain it to Adrian, Simon and Jennifer. I’ll say you’ve persuaded me we can do better in the long run as an independent company. It might even be true for all I know.”

“I believe it is.”

“There you are, then. In a sense, you have persuaded me.”

Silence fell while a waitress cleared our plates and placed dessert menus in front of us. Bella emptied the bottle of wine into our glasses, lit a cigarette and sat back to study me across the table.