Paul Temple Intervenes. Francis Durbridge
smiled at the boyish confession.
‘Yes, we had our quarrels,’ he continued, ‘but we never stopped being in love with each other for a single minute. The night before it happened, we had one of our worst stack-ups. I can’t even remember what it was about, but poor Alice had been irritable and difficult to get on with that day. I realise now why she was like that.’
‘Please go on,’ said Temple.
Roger Storey stubbed out his cigarette with long, nervous fingers.
‘It was blackmail!’ he muttered in a tense voice.
Steve looked horrified and checked an exclamation.
‘You mean The Marquis?’ suggested Temple.
‘Yes.’
Storey’s eyes assumed a distant expression, and his lips narrowed into a thin line. With jerky movements he lighted another cigarette, then continued:
‘He’s a cunning sort of devil you know, Temple. He puts the pressure on his victims until they can stand it no longer, and then …’ his mouth twitched nervously as he seemed to visualise the consequences.
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