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but she has him in her sights in a big way. If she gets nasty he could be recast even at this late stage because his big scenes are still to come. Joan’s playing the housekeeper, another supporting role, but I think she’s safe; she’s everyone’s favourite. Everyone’s but Angie’s, that is.’
    â€˜But Angie can’t touch you?’
    â€˜Afraid she can. My script gets mysteriously changed every now and then. Nothing you can put your finger on, but the result isn’t quite as strong as the original – which incidentally wasn’t written by her. She merely tinkers with it.’
    â€˜What has she against you?
    â€˜I suppose it just comes back to power. I’m not part of the old gang, but Bill and I have to spend a lot of time together.’
    â€˜By old gang you mean from
Running Tides
?’
    â€˜Yes. Everyone at Tom’s table stems from those days and there are others around.’
    I took another look – Chris still looked white-faced, Brian Tegg seemed to be doing his best to cheer him up and Graham East, who was about Chris’s age and seemed the serious, quiet type, was talking to Joan.
    â€˜Does Margot Croft fit into that story?’ I asked.
    â€˜I suppose she must. I think Joan was a personal chum of hers, and Margot was Bill’s property, as you must know, before Angie came along. Angie, like Joan, was an extra, and so were Chris, Brian and Graham. Tom was the storyboarder. Margot must have been quite a lady – Joan told me that Chris and Graham fancied her like mad, but they didn’t stand a chance, although like Tom they worshipped the ground she trod on. So unfortunately did her husband, I’m told. Her suicide must have hit them all hard.’
    â€˜So Angie might see you as another Margot Croft?’
    She flushed. ‘Bill and I get on well – there has to be rapport between director and lead actors. Angie might have misconstrued it. Don’t make that mistake, Jack.’
    I took her hand in mine. ‘I’m a magic bullet – I go straight to the truth.’
    â€˜Good. So find the Auburn.’
    I laughed, and she added, ‘Take care, Jack. The current situation is that Angie mustn’t be crossed in any way, and for the sake of the film Bill and Roger have to rise above everything that’s going on. I suppose as this is a film about revenge, Angie could be attacking the camaraderie that still lingers from Margot Croft’s days.’
    â€˜Aren’t there limits?’
    â€˜There are. And very soon Angie is going to reach them.’
    I drove home through the lanes to Piper’s Green like a kid after a visit to Santa Claus. I persuaded myself that despite the tantrums, there was a terrific film being shot, a terrific cast and director, and so everything was possible. No matter if there appeared to be a serpent slithering around in this paradise; it could easily be eliminated. Perhaps the nasty incidents were coincidental; perhaps the theft of the Auburn was due to some eccentric billionaire who had ‘ordered’ one. The prize for agreeing to find it was meeting Louise, and inside my pocket was a card with her mobile number on it.
    All I had to do now was find the Auburn.
    Frogs Hill Classic Car Restorations operates not far from the village of Piper’s Green which is between Pluckley and Egerton on Kent’s Greensand Ridge. I live in the farmhouse and a converted barn houses the Pits, which is the workshop where my team of two do what they love best – making the insides and outsides of classic cars whole again. They know everything about that process from bumper to bumper and whether it be an old Morris Minor or a Lanchester or a de Dion Bouton it usually responds to their caring hands. Len Vickers used to be a racing mechanic, which is why the Frogs Hill workshop gained its name of the Pits. He’s wiry, sixty-something years old, a man of few words and unhurried