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.The door was flung open and Lord Bullerton, dressed in a business suit, burst into the room.He stared at Lance and his voice boomed.'You can take off the penguin suit, Lance.This dinner will be between me and Air Tweed.So may I suggest you shove off.''You see how it is,' Lance muttered, stood up and left.At the door he had to wait as Mrs Shipton reappeared.Staring at Lance's dinner jacket, she frowned.He heard what she said as he pushed rudely past her.'On Lord Bullerton's instructions I have prepared dinner for two persons.''Is it ready?' demanded Bullerton.'Yes.That is, it will be in ten minutes' time.'While all this was going on Tweed retrieved the two photos.He slipped them carefully inside, closed the zip.Only then, case under his arm, did he stand up to greet his host.'Excuse me, Tweed,' Bullerton said, 'my obsession is chess.I am trying to crack this game.Would you like another drink?'Til wait for dinner, thank you.'He watched as Bullerton hurried over to a table where a chess game was half-played.Seating himself,he picked up the Queen, turning to Tweed as he fondled the piece.He shook his head.'She's the one I'm after.I play against myself.Unless you care to oppose me.Dinner will take longer than Mrs Shipton implied.She won't bring in the food until all the guests have taken their places.Shipton rules.''I prefer to start a fresh game, if you don't mind,' said Tweed, standing up.He extracted the two photos and again placed them upside down on the edge of the chess table.'I thought, Lord Bullerton, these might be familiar to you.'The effect on his host was even more electrifying than it had been on Lance.Bullerton casually turned them over, bent his large head forward, then jumped up, staggering as though he might fall down.Tweed grabbed him by one arm, had his grip brusquely removed.Bullerton toppled backwards into the armchair behind him and slumped.His voice was hoarse when he spoke.'Large Scotch, for God's sake!'Tweed darted over to the drinks cupboard, grabbed a glass and a bottle of the most expensive Scotch.He filled the large glass, took it to Bullerton, watched carefully as his host took the glass, swallowed half the contents at one gulp.He waited as Bullerton sat up stiffly, drank the rest.'One is Petra,' he mumbled, 'the other is Nancy.Where are they now?''In London.' Tweed paused.'The news is very bad, I should warn you.''You bastard!' Bullerton roared.'How long have you had those?''Only a day,' Tweed admitted, 'I was waiting for the right opportunity to tell you - when we were alone.The news is bad,' he repeated.'Well, spit it out, man,' Bullerton demanded, some of his normal fire returning.'They are both dead,' Tweed said quietly, 'murdered outside the homes they rented in central London.Worse still, their faces had been badly mutilated by the killer.''Mutilated?' Bullerton pointed to the photos Tweed was collecting to put back inside his case.'No sign of mutilation there.''The photos have been retouched,' said Tweed, who saw no point in explaining the genius of Hector Humble.'Sounds like a serial killer.'As he spoke Bullerton bent down to pick up the chess Queen he had knocked off the board when he jumped up.He stroked the piece as he muttered half to himself.'She knows I'm after seducing her.Just like I do when I visit certain high-class ladies in Mayfair.They charge the earth.Still much cheaper than the expense of getting married.This Queen seems to get heavier.Ready for my assault.And you're a fake, Tweed.You come up here on a murder investigation but you takeyour time telling me the victims are my missing daughters.''I have my methods,' Tweed said calmly.'And I do not believe the killer is a serial murderer.''Obviously you haven't heard that Hartland Trent, living, or lived, off the High Street has been found stabbed to death.Whole district is abuzz with the crime, but the chief investigator hasn't heard about it,' Bullerton sneered.'An eccentric.The place swarms with them.'Tweed was used to the minds of relatives of murder victims wandering all over the place in their shock
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