The Savage Gorge

by Forbes, Colin

  'Mrs Shipton?' Sable echoed vaguely.

  'Yes, Mrs Shipton,' Tweed repeated emphatically. 'My question was clear enough.' He turned to Margot, who nodded before she replied.

  'We really have no idea. She just turned up when Father was desperate for someone to run the house.'

  'So,' Sable broke in, annoyed that the attention had swung away from her, 'he offered her the crown jewels by way of a salary and she accepted. As to where she comes from I have no damned idea. Oh, excuse me.'

  'You have both been most helpful,' Tweed said, rising. 'I am grateful for the time you've given us. Tomorrow Paula and I are travelling to London for a couple of days before we come back. I have to check the situation at HQ.'

  They had reached the closed door when Sable darted ahead of them so beat Margot to opening it. Tweed pressed one hand against it and fired his last shot. 'Lord Bullerton, does he often travel to London?'

  'Very often,' Sable said before Margot could reply, 'says he's going on business for a few days.' She

  smirked. 'I've seen the business, so-called. I was in Mayfair once, saw him chatting up an attractive woman in a tight dress. Then they disappeared together into a very expensive block of fiats where the "lady" probably has a suite. I suppose he has to have his fling regularly. Bet it's a different woman each time. He's too smart to risk being tied to one woman even for what he's needing, being a man.'

  Glancing back as they left the room, Paula saw Margot with her eyes raised to heaven at Sable's crude way of expressing herself. She gave Paula a lovely smile and a little wave of her hand.

  'Was it worth it?' Paula asked as they drove away.

  'I found it very significant what Margot said, even more so what Sable said.'

  'And you're not going to tell me yet?'

  'Not until I'm sure I'm right. Incidentally, how long would it take you to get packed for immediate departure?'

  'One minute. I'm always packed for any emergency.'

  'Good. Because as soon as we get back to the Nag's Head we're driving south to Marler's boat and sailing to Noak. That talk about leaving tomorrow was camouflage. I'm sure Sable won't be able to help spilling the beans to someone. Marler has been alerted. He's warned Harry. I don't want MacBlade or Falkirk to know . . .'

  As they arrived back at the garage, Marler appeared from nowhere with Harry. He told Tweed they were ready to leave now. Looking at Paula he smiled.

  'Hope you don't mind riding as my passenger in my Maserati - on the motorway for a lot of the trip.'

  'I’d love that,' she fibbed as her stomach flipped.

  'Tweed drives the Audi with the armour plate and armoured glass, taking Harry as passenger.'

  He broke off as Lance walked in from the hotel. He wore a long white pullover and plaid trousers. He greeted them with a warm smile.

  'Off somewhere, are we?'

  'To London. Tomorrow,' Tweed said quickly. 'We're checking the state of our transport.'

  'You'll be coming back, I hope?'

  'At the latest two days after tomorrow,' Tweed assured him.

  'I mustn't linger. Busy day ahead of me.'

  As he spoke he jumped on a brand-new Harley-Davidson motorbike and left the garage at speed, driving up the High Street. Paula watched him as he pulled in at a house halfway up the street, ran to the door, which was opening. A tall well-built blonde appeared holding a shopping carrier. She kissed him, he patted her on the rump, she walked away as he closed the door.

  'Another arista victim,' Paula commented. 'Bet he's packing her bag, ready to dump it on the doorstep . . .'

  'I've got the special weapons you suggested,' Harry reported to Tweed.

  'Time to move,' said Tweed. 'Now!' He looked at Marler. I’d like to know where we're going.'

  'Seaward Cove, border of Somerset and Devon. We'll be there before night. Cove is remote, size of an oyster shell. . .'

  EIGHTEEN

  With Marler at the wheel and Paula beside him, Hobartshire passed in a flash as they headed south. Turning onto the motorway, Marler pressed his foot down. They flew.

  As far as Paula could tell, Marler kept just within all speed limits - she knew he had an instinct for speed traps. The drive was an experience she would never forget. Scenery passed in a blur - rolling green hills, a dense wood, a vast rocky quarry where strange machines prowled. Marler, wearing tinted goggles, had long ago passed her a pair to counter the searchlight glare of the sun burning out of an endless blue sky.

  Some time before, Marler had turned south-west. Paula's thick glossy black hair was streaming out behind her. She found a pink ribbon, tied her hair into a ponytail. Later Marler pointed to a plastic box.

  'Food,' he said abruptly.

  She extracted thick salmon sandwiches, fed Marler as he continued driving, then herself. There was Evian water to quench their thirst. By now Paula was relaxed. I could get used to driving like this, she thought.

  Occasionally she glanced in the rear-view mirror, at first surprised to find the heavy armoured Audi was only a hundred yards behind them, then remembering Harry had souped up its engine.

  'Can you find out,' she asked Marler, 'when we are about half an hour from our destination?'

  'You ask Ben,' he said, handing her his mobile after pressing umpteen buttons.

  'Ben here. Who the hell is this?' a rough voice answered.

  She identified them, giving the name of a winding village Marler had been compelled to crawl through. The rough voice wasted no time.

  'Thirty minutes from now, the way Marler drives.'

  Paula contacted Tweed on her mobile, which he still possessed. Her reminder was short. 'Paula here. The bottle, Tweed. Now!'

  In the Audi, Tweed reached for the twist of paper inside which he had folded a Dramamine tablet. Tactfully, Harry handed him a bottle of Evian water without a word. Tweed swallowed the tablet.

  The one aversion Tweed had was the sea. He disliked even looking at it from firm land. 'It never stops wobbling about,' he had once explained to Paula. She

  knew this and always persuaded her chief to take precautions.

  'How much further, I wonder?' speculated Harry. 'The sun is dropping into lower orbit.'

  'Another thirty minutes and we're there,' Tweed replied. 'I gather we arrive just before dusk and go aboard the Tiger as soon as we get there.'

  'The Tiger?'

  'Name of the ship we travel on.'

  'Don't like the sound of it.'

  'Join the club,' Tweed commented.

  'Are we travelling on a big ship?' Paula asked Marler.

  'Surprisingly big. Even has a luxury stateroom. Compact but cosy.'

  'How did Ben afford such a vessel?'

  'Ben fished for prawns,' Marler chuckled. 'Off the cove there's a whole fleet of them. Biggest you've ever seen. He makes a fortune selling them to top London restaurants. Look at one of their menus. Prawns head the list for price.'

  Marler stopped talking as the landscape changed dramatically. Great granite bluffs reared up out of scrubby grass on both sides. Vaguely it reminded Paula of pictures she had seen of Utah, but minus the columnar chimneys of stone. Here and there a stubborn pine with a massive trunk lent a touch of green.

  Marler slowed as they climbed a ridge on the narrowing tarmacadam road. Once they crossed the ridge, the road dropped steeply. Paula almost gasped

  at the view of the vast sea which stretched forever towards a distant horizon. It was dusk and the sun, which had slid below the horizon, seemed to illuminate the Channel from below with a weird aquamarine glow.

  'There it is. Seaward Cove,' Marler told her.

  'That's a cove?' she asked in disbelief.

  She was looking down on a gash, long and narrow, piercing the massive cliffs. Projecting from the shore was a large stone jetty, curved like a sickle, presumably to take the force of giant waves in a storm. Moored to its inner wall was a large slim ship with a small funnel.

  'Ben can't get that ship out of that channel,' she pro
tested.

  'He will. Only way out.'

  She was relieved from Tweed's point of view that the ocean was more like a flat blue plate: not a ripple in sight. They reached the landing point in no time. Tweed's Audi parked behind them.

  A short heavily built man in his fifties with a very wide chest came out of a large shed. He shook hands only with Paula, pointed to the shed.

  'That's home and where I prepare the prawns for despatch to London.' He looked at Marler. 'Four hours I calculate to get to this invisible Noak Island, four to get back, so how long you gonna be foolin' around there?'

  'About one hour, maybe longer. Depends on the element of danger,' Tweed told the old ruffian.

  'Danger!' Ben glared at Marler. 'You never said a

  thing about that. Cost you another ten thousand quid on top of the fee.'

  'Come off it,' Marler told Ben with a grin. 'You know that anything I'm involved in can turn ugly.'

  'All right.' Ben cupped his hands round his mouth. 'All of you aboard. We have to be back here before dawn. Jump to it!'

  Paula ran forward, skipped up the gangplank, ignoring Ben's shout. 'Hold on to the flamin' rails!'

  He pulled his peaked cap lower over his broad forehead. This time he kept his voice down as he spoke to Tweed as he was about to go aboard.

  'That girl is agile! - and very tough, I suspect.'

  'She's in her thirties,' Tweed retorted and ran up the gangway.

  He followed her along a companionway, through an open door, down some steps into a luxurious stateroom. She sprawled on a comfortable couch at the other end. They heard voices from the dock.

  'What's in that big bag, mate?'

  'My lunch,' Harry's voice shouted back. Tut a sock in it and get this old tub moving . . .'

  Ben appeared at the entrance to the stateroom. He pointed forward.

  'Galley's at that end. Fridge is jam-packed. You could cook us some plaice and chips. OK?'

  'If I feel like it,' Paula snapped back.

  Minutes later they felt movement. Tiger was about to navigate the impossible channel. As the ship swung round to clear the end of the jetty Tweed jumped up,

  opened a second door, ran up a flight of steps and was on the enclosed bridge. Marler was leaning through an open window on the starboard side, waving his hand to the left frantically. They were heading straight for a jagged spur of rock protruding into the channel, a spur which could rip a huge hole in the hull. He looked at Ben, who was already turning the ship to port. Peering over Marler's shoulders Tweed saw they slipped past the spur with a clearance of barely two feet. They emerged into the calm open sea.

  'You can take over the wheel now, Marler,' shouted Ben. 'I have plotted the course from the map you sent me by courier. Just keep your ruddy eye on the compass.'

  With Marler behind the wheel, Ben opened the door to the stateroom. Paula was sitting up, legs curled like a cat's, studying a marine report.

  'You're supposed to be cooking!' Ben bellowed. 'Can't you find the ruddy galley?'

  'Cooking is not in the contract,' Paula snapped without looking up. 'Shouldn't you be on the bridge, as captain of this old tub?'

  Ben muttered an oath under his breath, slammed the door shut. On the bridge Tweed was standing close to Marler, staring ahead with fascination at the incredible vastness of the Atlantic. The Tiger's port and starboard running lights were on. Ben saw him looking at them.

  'Need 'em on in case we run into a Coastguard patrol. Further out I switches 'em off. Marler marked

  Noak Island on the map he sent me. Talk about isolation - no airline flies near the place. And it's miles off any shipping route.'

  'Mr Neville Guile likes his privacy,' Tweed said to himself.

  Paula appeared and saw Harry, who had headed for the bridge as soon as he came aboard. Typically, he sat in a corner of the deck, knees bunched underneath him. He had his bag open, which carried an amazing mix of weapons and tools. He saw her watching him. She settled down beside him.

  'What are these secret weapons you keep so quiet about? I might have to use one.'

  Put your gloves on. The devices are slippery.'

  He shifted position so they were shielded from the others. Out of the bag his gloved hand produced a cylindrical object about a foot long with a switch turned to green. Pushed forward it would point to red.

  'For Pete's sake, and mine,' he whispered, 'don't touch that switch. You do and this whole ship explodes in flames, the sea boils. It's new, invented by Mac down in the boffins' basement.'

  'What's inside?' she whispered.

  'Mix of high-explosive and firebomb. Got five of the devils, all told. Don't know why Tweed wants 'em.'

  Paula stood up, disappeared back into the stateroom. Tweed, on the bridge alongside Marler, was puzzled.

  'We're gliding over the sea as though it were a skating rink. But no engine sound.'

  'Ben explained that,' Marler said, glancing at the compass and turning the wheel a fraction. 'The genius who built this vessel installed a special engine. If you listen carefully it makes no more sound than the purring of a cat. Another reason Noak won't know we're coming. Besides radar they'll have listening posts, I'm sure.'

  Half an hour later someone was kicking the far side of the door from the stateroom. Tweed opened it and a glorious aroma offish and chips entered his nostrils. Paula stood with a large plastic tray. It had depressions for servings and smaller ones for plastic cups of Evian water. As a matter of form she served the master of the ship first. Ben stared as though he couldn't believe it. Then, greedily, he grabbed a plate offish and chips and a cup of water.

  ' You. ' He gave her a great big toothy grin. 'You was windin' me up.'

  'Shut up and eat,' she snapped back at him.

  For a while there was no conversation on the bridge as they concentrated on eating. Paula had fetched her own meal on a separate tray. She whispered to Tweed, 'I haven't seen Bob Newman anywhere. Is he still in London?'

  'No, he's one of my secret weapons,' Tweed whispered back. 'By now Guile will think he has identified my whole team. You, me, Harry and Marler. He won't know about Newman, who stays at one of those houses to let up the High Street. Don't know which one, don't want to know. He's wearing country clothes, a wide-brimmed straw hat and sunglasses. He

  mooches around, posing as an architect with his nose in a book. But I'll bet he doesn't miss a thing.'

  On the bridge by the wheel Ben had gripped Marler hard by the arm. He was peering ahead at a dark bulk with a red light shining high up. Noak Island.

  'That's why I switched off all my lights,' Ben explained, 'but somehow they've spotted us.'

  'Well, at least it was such a calm voyage,' Paula called out to introduce a note of optimism.

  'Won't be if we ever return,' growled Ben. 'Forecast is for a real twister of a storm which should hit us halfway back.'

  'I think I've entered the gap in the radar zone,' Marler said.

  'You have,' Ben agreed. As he spoke there was an explosion to starboard.

  'They know we're coming,' Tweed warned.

  'No, they don't,' called out Ben. 'That was an old wartime mine deciding to welcome us. Never heard of one being this far out, though.'

  They were close in to what appeared to be a giant chunk of rock. Ben turned on a searchlight and Tweed stared. He had expected another dangerous gulch entrance like the one at Seaward Cove they had left far behind. Instead in the glare of Ben's light was a wide harbour enclosed by high stone walls.

  'This map is out of date,' Marler complained.

  'Unless Neville Guile has blasted rock to create a favourable entrance for large vessels,' Tweed suggested.

  'Like that one over there just going under,' Paula called out, and pointed.

  Well over to port, away from Noak and the exploding mine, the hull of a large vessel which had turned turtle protruded briefly above the surface of the smooth sea. Tweed felt sure it was a huge tanker as it slid below the sea, leaving behind a
small ripple of waves.

  'That were a tanker going down,' Ben said. 'Big job. What's it doin' 'ere?'

  'The tanker that pirates hijacked in the East,' Marler said with a flash of inspiration.

  'I think you're right,' Tweed agreed. 'And no oil seeping out - because it was all pumped ashore first onto Noak. I don't like pirates but I'll bet their bodies, each with a bullet in the back of the head, are lying in the hold. After they'd helped pump the oil ashore. No witnesses is one of Neville Guise's rules of business. And look at that cliff.'

  A monster of a black cliff sheered up from the harbour. By now Ben had brought Tiger alongside an inner wall of one of the stone jetties. He picked up a great coil of rope, threw it at Harry.

  'Get ashore with that, tie it round one of those stone bollards, then make fast the stern. I'll be there with more rope.'

  Harry jumped to his feet, grabbed the rope coil and followed Ben down a ladder from the bridge to the main deck. Leaping over the narrow gap onto the jetty, he wound lengths of rope round the stone bollard.