The Blood Diamond by John Creasey Page B

police should find. A pretty mix up; and there was more, the bait of Paul Harding’s address: The Lees, Guildford.
    Marjorie had kept her head well; too well?
    Mannering went thoughtfully back to Chelsea.
    Judy let him in, and said that Lorna was still in the studio. Mannering went whistling up the rickety stairs. Lorna glanced round at him, and Mannering felt her glow of satisfaction; all dark thoughts and brooding had been swept away by her work. Larraby had gone – but Larraby was there, on canvas. Mannering stood looking at the portrait, while Lorna wiped her hands on an oily rag.
    â€˜Well, well,’ Mannering mumured.
    â€˜Do you like it?’
    â€˜It’s perfect.’
    â€˜It’s only half-finished, but it ought to be all right.’
    â€˜It’s got him, body and soul,’ said Mannering. He went a little closer, and then drew back. ‘Mind, body and soul,’ he amended. ‘Has he seen it yet?’
    â€˜No. I sent him out to get some lunch and told him to be back at half past two.’
    â€˜You’re going to work yourself to death,’ said Mannering, as she went to the wash-basin to wash her hands. ‘Judy’s complaining that lunch is getting cold.’
    â€˜I’m almost ready.’ Lorna took off her paint-daubed smock. ‘I’ll have to sign that with a diamond!’ She laughed. ‘I wouldn’t have missed Larraby for the world.’
    They went downstairs. Judy brought in a chicken en casserole, and started to serve.
    â€˜We’ll manage,’ said Mannering.
    â€˜Very good, sir.’ The girl went out, trim, prim, tiny.
    Lorna said: ‘John, what a selfish beast I can be.’
    â€˜You said it.’
    â€˜How have you been getting on?’
    â€˜Oh, uncovering an odd murder or so.’
    â€˜Only or so?’
    â€˜Just one, to be exact.’
    She put down her fork.
    â€˜You almost sound serious.’
    Mannering talked, leaving nothing out. Before he had finished, the chicken was cool on their plates. Judy looked in, and bobbed out again. They finished the course in silence, and Judy brought in canned raspberries and cream.
    â€˜You’re fated,’ Lorna said at last. ‘Fingerprints?’
    â€˜Not mine. Bristow may fancy that I’d seen the body before, that’s the only danger.’
    â€˜I hope it is.’ Lorna finished her sweet, slowly. Then she threw up her hands. ‘Isn’t it wonderful? Two beauties to protect now, plus a young man. I can see it working out very well, darling. The police are watching you. You’re keeping something back from them for the sake of a pair of pretty blue eyes. Before you know where you are, you’ll be fighting Bristow openly. Why must it always work out like this?’
    â€˜The spice of life,’ murmured Mannering.
    â€˜The vinegar. You won’t go too far without telling Bristow, will you?’
    â€˜I will not.’
    â€˜I don’t believe you. What happened to the note from Bray?’
    â€˜It’s still in my pocket.’
    â€˜How nice! Supposing Bristow had the bright idea of coming here with a search warrant?’
    â€˜The letter isn’t addressed to anyone at Lander Street,’ Mannering pointed out. ‘Bray came here several times and was due here last night, so there’s no reason why he shouldn’t have sent me a confirming note. I’m not a bit sure that it’s any use as evidence.’
    â€˜There may be prints on it.’
    â€˜I’ll soon find out,’ said Mannering.
    After a pause, Lorna said: ‘There are times when I understand why Tring hates you so, darling.’
    Mannering chuckled. ‘Our Tanker’s having a wow of a time. Coffee?’
    Â 
    Larraby was back on the stroke of half past two.
    â€˜Come up when I call, will you?’ Lorna went ahead to brood for a few moments, then throw a piece of cloth over the unfinished canvas until Larraby had