Brenda opened the door, leaving the safety chain in its steel slot and peering out at the two rain-sodden men who had startled her by their unexpected banging on the heavy knocker.

"Yes?" she queried nervously.

"Miss Hayter?" the nearest man asked, his wide-brimmed hat making a little waterfall in front of his half-hidden face.

"Yes?" she asked again, questioning.

"Mr. Papenderol sent us, Miss Hayter. We're from the Grand Ocean Assurance Company, come to make an inventory before the place is shut down for the winter. May we come in, Miss? It's rather wet out here."

"What is it, Bren?" came a throaty young girlish voice. It was June Thorpe, Brenda’s best friend.

"Insurance man," Brenda called, shutting the door on them with an apologetic smile as she unfastened the safety chains then pulling the big door wide open again and standing aside while the two dripping men entered and began to shake the rain from their dark overcoats.

June came into the reception hall from the big bar lounge. She stared at the dripping men, who were removing their hats and coats. Brenda was re-bolting the door.

"The boss didn't say anything about you coming," June growled in that purring deep voice of hers.

“We were coming with him tomorrow," the spokesman smiled - a rather frightening straight smile that looked false on his pale thin face. "Very sorry. But he has another job to do tomorrow as well, so he asked us to come and do the job tonight. I'm sure you girls don't mind a bit of company this place on a night like this?" He smiled again.

June shivered. The smile was awful and his eyes had frisked her body very quickly, running over her tight jeans and equally clinging sweater with a sly ease that unsettled her. She was used to men looking. Any girl with her big breasts and narrow waist had to be prepared for hot eyes roaming over the curves, but such looks were usually sensuous, admiring or plain covetous. His eyes had a slightly hard, evil look. Maybe it was her imagination.

“Who’s da dark one?" came the rough grating voice of the second man, who had now removed his hat and coat to reveal a thickset muscular body under a round dim face with thick blubber lips and small pig eyes. He was even more off-putting than his companion.

"Miss Thorpe, I think the name is, June, isn't it?" the thin-faced man said softly. June nodded. She was blushing and she didn't know why. "He's Jake Messina and I'm Gordy Hallam," the talkative one volunteered. "Treat him with care, Miss Thorpe. He has some rather unusual tendencies towards violence - unlike me. I'm the peaceful one."

A coarse laugh came from the 'violent' Jake Messina. "Dat's good!” he chuckled. "You de peaceful kind. Ker-rist!”

Brenda had followed them into the big bar. Only a few of the dim wall lights wore on. The whole far wall of huge glass sheets looking out over the lake was covered by the drawn and velvet drapes. Chairs stood upside down on tables all over the room, except for an oasis of light and cosy order near the far end of the bar, by the open fireplace. Brenda and June had been sitting in easy chairs, one each side of the fireplace. A faint smell of ham and eggs lingered from the meal they had just cooked in the bar kitchen and grill-room behind the main bar.

The man smiled again. Both of them walked over and sat in the armchairs, leaving both girls somewhat perplexed and already just a little worried. Brenda, blue eyes and sweet face nestling in a cloud of silver blonde hairs gave a meaningful look at June and coughed nervously.

“Er, look, Mr. Papendorol told us to stay on just to keep an eye on the place until tomorrow. He said to ... wells he didn't mention you. I ... I wonder ... have you any sort of credentials? I mean ... just to show you really have come like you said?"

Gordy Hallam smiled, his eyes half hidden by snake-like lids. "Credentials, Jakey" he snapped.

A loud explosion - and another and in between a sort of crashing rattle from the dark end of the bar. Brenda and June both squealed, shaken by the almost magical appearance of a blue metal automatic pistol in Jake’s hand, the two shots and, as they jerked round to the noise behind them, the falling peanut tin with two neat holes spilling out nuts as it hit the floors and rolled noisily out of sight.

The acrid smell of smoke and Jake grinning proudly, no sign of the gun he had used.

"See? Very good credentials! Mr. Papendorol only employs the best," Gordy smiled but now there was absolutely no attempt to hide the evil of his grins and the two English girls stood together looking at him with the dazed horror of rabbits caught in a mesmeric light.

“Now get something to eat for the pair of us, girls," Gordy grinned. 'We'll talk later."

"Yeah," Jake giggled. "That's a hot one! We'll eat first then we'll talk later, eh?" And he laughed stupidly.