Ruling Passion by Reginald Hill Page A

away the plates.
    The first after-dinner guest arrived as they were  drinking their coffee. Marianne let him in. There  was a perceptible interval before she returned  with Angus Pelman. Pascoe assumed the time was spent in warning the man about the strangers in  the house.
    Pelman made no attempt to avoid the subject of the killings.
    'Any news of Hopkins?' he asked brusquely after  being introduced.
    'I think not,' intervened Culpepper diplomatically. 'I wonder, Miss Soper, if you would care to  see my collection of porcelain?'
    'Oh, blast your porcelain, Hartley. Miss Soper  isn't a child to have her mind diverted by a bag of sweets.'
    Culpepper turned away and busied himself  removing the foil cap from a fresh bottle of scotch. One two-thirds full stood in full view on the  sideboard. Marianne glanced over at him with a  faint pucker of worry between the eyes.
    'We're all shocked by what's happened,' Pelman  continued. 'They were nice people, our neighbours, members of our community.'
    'Which not everybody made them particularly  welcome to,' murmured Culpepper. 'Let me freshen  your drink, Mr Pascoe.'
    'Meaning?' demanded Pelman.
    'That business at the Eagle, for a start,' replied  Culpepper.
    'That was between JP and the Hopkinses,' intervened Bell. 'Nothing to do with anyone else. They  were well out of it. It's a much better pint at the  Anne, and cheaper too.'
    He grinned amiably, the pourer of oil on troubled  waters.
    'Who's JP?' asked Ellie.
    'Palfrey, the owner of the Eagle and Child,' said Marianne Culpepper.
    'Who, blameworthy though he is, should not be allowed all the blame,' said her husband blandly. 'And there were other things besides. Eh, Pelman?'
    There was a ring at the front door bell.
    'Hartley, would you answer that?' said Marianne,  separating the antagonists. She tried to consolidate  the forced armistice by-changing the conversation  and Pelman seemed much readier to accept this  from her.
    'If this weather keeps up, we'll get some good  riding tomorrow. Are you going out, John?'
    'No such luck. I haven't reached Hartley's stage of executive elevation yet. I still have to bring my work home with me. Besides, Sandra says riding  gives you a big bum.'
    'John!' protested his wife. But she met Marianne's  quizzical gaze with the unruffled smile of one  whose own buttocks were as compact as a boy's.
    'What is your job, Mr Bell?' asked Pascoe, trying to sound unlike a policeman. Nowadays he was  never sure when he succeeded.
    'I'm sales director of Nuplax, the kitchen utensil  people. In Banbury.'
    'That sounds very high-powered.'
    'Oh, it'll do. But it's small time compared with Hartley. He's a top finance man with the Nordrill  group.'
    Pascoe looked impressed to conceal his ignorance. Nordrill he had heard of. An up-and-coming  oil and mining consortium often in the news. But  just what such a job meant in terms of responsibility and reward he could not conceive.
    'That must be worth a few bob,' he said knowingly.
    'It keeps him comfortable. Eh, Marianne?'
    Bell's gesture included the woman as well as  the unostentatious luxury of the room. Marianne  smiled, but with little humour.
    'I didn't realize Nordrill were centred in the  Midlands,' said Ellie.
    'Oh, they're not. But London's no distance with a decent car and a pied-a-terre if you don't fancy the  drive back.'
    Lucky old Hartley, thought Pascoe.
    Lucky old Hartley re-entered accompanied by Dr Hardisty who, from the length of time they had taken, must have been giving as well as receiving information. With him was his wife, either younger or better preserved, with the brisk movements and reassuring smile that Pascoe associated  with the nursing profession. It seemed a probable guess.
    They hardly had time to express anxiety over  Ellie's well-being and regret over Rose's death, at  the same time studiously avoiding any reference  to Colin, before the bell rang once more. This time  Marianne went and after