by Colin Forbes
Crystal rushed past her. She had lifted the flap of Newman's shoulder bag, had grabbed a hammer and several pitons. `I've climbed worse than this in Italy,' she shouted.
Agilely, she clawed her way up a good sixty feet. Then she inserted a piton and used the hammer. Newman had rushed forward to stand below her. Crystal hammered away. The rock she was endeavouring to drive the piton into crumbled. The piton dropped to the base. `No good,' Crystal called down. 'Crumbles like glass…'
Then she lost her grip, came tumbling down. Newman had his arms held out, legs braced. He grasped her firmly round the waist, lowered her to the ground. `No good,' she said breathlessly. 'At least I tried.' `We're going back into Gladworth now,' Paula said, grasping Crystal by the arm.
Left by himself, Newman wandered round to the easy side. He stopped as he saw a tall heavily built man who had pushed his deerstalker hat over the back of his head – with his left hand. In his right he held a deadly 7.65 mm Luger, aimed at Newman. Magazine capacity eight rounds. The bullet chipped off a tiny sliver of rock as Newman dodged behind the sheer wall. He reached for his Smith amp; Wesson, realized that in the rush he'd left it in its holster in a locked cupboard in his apartment. `Take the high ground, soldier,' Max called out in a sneer. `You'd never reach the summit, you braggart,' Newman shouted back.
He had immediately recognized Max from Paula's sketch and was counting on the bravado he'd observed in his face. He heard the assassin clawing his way up the easy side, heading for the summit. Newman took a deep breath, threw away his shoulder bag, began clawing his own way up, seeking firm handholds, footholds, He found that he was usually able to detect brittle rock, to avoid it. There was more tough, well-embedded rock than he'd expected. He had to reach the summit before the killer, who had the easier climb. But Newman had conquered the Eiger and this gave him caution as well as confidence. `Don't look down!' he kept repeating to himself.
He didn't look up either, zigzagging his way up the smooth cone. It already felt colder, which told him he had gained a lot of height. Systematically he tested each handhold, each foothold, before trusting it. One false move and he knew he was already high enough for a fall to kill him. The worrying thing was he didn't know how his antagonist was progressing. `Bob, you're nearly there…' Paula's voice, echoing a long distance away: but her message was clear.
He was higher up, nearer the summit than his enemy. Paula, brought back by the sound of the single shot, had rushed to the base of Pike's Peak. Circling it, she had seen how high the killer had reached, then run round to find Newman.
The realization sent a fresh flow of energy through him. He increased the pace of his climb, still testing each new hand- and foothold carefully. He was moving up faster. When he glanced up he had a shock – he was almost at the summit.
Suddenly, both hands gripping the lip of rugged rock, he peered over. The summit was a flat platform, about twenty yards in diameter. He hauled himself over and onto it. He would have given anything to lie there, to catch his breath.
Instead he forced himself to crawl a foot back from the rim, listening. He came to a point where he heard agonized movements below. He resisted the temptation to look over the edge. He had no weapon to defend himself. The killer might well still have his Luger. He looked round the plateau for a sizeable rock he could hurl down. No loose rocks.
Then he noticed the summit was littered with rock dust. He used both hands to scoop up a large pile. As he finished, a pair of hands appeared close to where he lay, gripping the rim. The left hand disappeared momentarily, the killer holding on by his right hand and, presumably a firm foothold. The hand reappeared.
Holding the Luger. The muzzle was wobbling madly.
The killer was trying to do two things at once with his right hand, grip the rim and hold on to the weapon. With a lurching heave more of the killer came into view, his sweating face, the image of Paula's charcoal sketch. Newman, who had moved closer, reacted.
He threw the rock dust, aiming for the eyes. A cloud of dust blotted out the face. Panicking, the killer let go with his right hand to clear his eyes. Then he lost all control. His body began plunging down. Peering over the edge Newman saw the body diving down, turn once in a somersault, then hit the ground. He lay very still.
Paula had seen the body hurtling down, had run back to avoid being hit. Then she ran forward to where the killer lay without a sign of life. She bent over him. Blood was flowing from the back of his head, from his back, from his legs, now misshapen. She felt his carotid pulse. He was still alive.
He opened one eye, stared up at her with an expression of disbelief. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He opened it again.
'You.. ' His voice was hoarse and she had to bend closer to hear what he was trying to say. `Beaut… iful sight… for a man… to see last.. `Don't try to talk,' she said. 'You could be all right' `Not this… time. Must warn… you. Calouste.. `What about Calouste?' she said gently. `Find bastard at… Heather Cottage… Fif… Fifteen miles… this side… of… Leaminster… plans kill… you all…'
The eye which had opened closed, and he seemed to sag further back. Again she checked his pulse. Nothing. He was gone.
She could hear faint sounds of Newman descending the easy side. She couldn't bear to watch him coming down. She had too clear a memory of the killer falling She stayed where she was, hoping to Heaven Crystal would remain in Gladworth shopping. She was so bemused she never heard Newman's footsteps. She jumped when he put his arms round her. `Take it easy,' he said quietly. 'It's all over.' `No it isn't,' she burst out as she swung round. Tersely she told him what the dead killer had told her. `In that case we'd better get back to Tweed, let him know. Mind you don't step back.'
She looked down. A few feet from them was a ravine about a yard wide, seeming bottomless. Paula had not noticed it because the ground was all the same colour. She looked at Newman. `That could be a big problem.' `Certainly would be if that Inspector Tetworth was around, or whatever his name was – the policeman who stopped you and Tweed where the digger driver tried to kill you. You go back into the village, find Crystal, wait for me in the car. I've got to collect the piton and hammer Crystal dropped. `Well, the sooner Tweed knows Calouste is in the area, where he is…' `So what are you waiting for? Go and find Crystal.'
He waited until she had run out of sight down the track. He put on a pair of gloves, bent down, avoiding the blood, took hold of the corpse, rolled it to the edge of the ravine. He heaved it over, listened for it to hit bottom. No sound at all. The killer's Luger was lying a few feet away. He used his foot to kick it over the edge, listened. It seemed like minutes before he heard the distant clang of metal striking rock. The ravine was frighteningly deep.
Picking up Crystal's piton and hammer, he tucked them inside his shoulder bag. He glanced round carefully. No trace of anyone having been there. He hurried back to the car, where Paula was standing. `Crystal will be here any moment. She's bought up half a clothes shop…' `Before she arrives, no one climbed Pike's Peak. I didn't like the look of it' `Understood. Here's Crystal, loaded with carriers' She lowered her voice. 'I wonder what's in the will?'
13
When they reached Hengistbury Manor the gates swung open and they drove along the pebble drive. Tweed was on the terrace by himself, pacing slowly in the sunshine, a look of concentration on his youthful face.
Paula dived out of the car as soon as it stopped, ran up the steps. Crystal, climbing out after her, refused Newman's offer to help her with the carriers. Clutching them tightly the was about to pass Tweed when he called out to her. `You've bought half of Gladworth, I see…' `It's my money,' she snapped, resenting his observation, and disappeared inside the house. `Can I ask what was in the will?' Paula suggested as Newman joined them. `You may. I read the will, as I said I would. Quite a few of the family were present – Marshal, Warner, Lavinia (I had to ask her to join us), then Warner's son, Leo. It was a short and simple will. Control of the bank was divided fifty per cent to Marshal, f
ifty per cent to Warner, and there was a gift of one hundred thousand pounds to Mrs Grandy, the housekeeper.' `How did they react?' `Marshal was furious, stormed out after shouting it would never work. Warner was quiet, remarked it would work and he thought it was typical of Bella's common sense. Leo was outraged, screamed, "Why the hell does that old faggot get all that money?" Warner told him to apologize but Leo was livid, stormed off after Marshal. I told Mrs Grandy myself and she looked astounded, then said it was very generous. You know it all now.' `Bella was very shrewd. We have urgent information for you.' She explained quickly their experience at Pike's Peak and what the killer had told her before he expired. `I'm still amazed,' she continued, 'that the man sent to kidnap me in Mayfair, to torture me and presumably kill me, would warn me a second time when he was dying. And tell me where we can find Calouste.' `Another example of the complexity of human nature,'Tweed observed. 'So many people I've encountered have this mixture of decency and evil' His manner changed, became commanding. 'Now, action this day, as Winston Churchill used to say. We must immediately try and hunt down Calouste. We'll take a large force. Heavily armed. You'll come, of course, Bob. Harry Butler is helping the police crew to search this vast house, so is Marler, who was investigating The Forest. Heavily armed,' he repeated.
Tweed led the way inside the manor while Newman admitted he'd left his.38 Smith amp;Wesson revolver and ammo locked in his apartment. Tweed held up a hand before they all rushed into the hall. `The story is we've had a tip that Bella's killer is hiding in Gladworth.'
Tweed ran up to the floor where Crystal had her apartment, in time to see Chief Inspector Hammer emerging with a disgruntled look. `Take all week to search this rabbit warren,' he grumbled, then marched off down the corridor, vanished into another apartment.
Tweed caught sight of Sergeant Warden coming up the stairs. He beckoned to him, spoke quietly. `Could you do me a discreet favour?' `That's why I was sent here, sir.' `Find out which apartments the Chief Inspector searched and do the job all over again. He's a good chap but inclined to rush things.' `I'll tell him Commander Buchanan told me he wanted everywhere searched twice. Good job we had that warrant. Mr Marshal Main is almost going crazy at what he calls this invasion.'
***
Tweed's expedition assembled on the terrace. Marler, wearing camouflage, carried a zipped-up golf bag. Paula stared at it and he noticed her glance. He smiled at her. `Usual contents in the bag. My favourite Armalite rifle with 'scope and spare ammo, including a few explosive bullets.'
Harry Butler was laden down with a heavy bulging leather bag. She raised an eyebrow and asked him what he was preparing for. `You saw me having a word with Tweed in the hall. He made it sound like a possible siege of this Heather Cottage. He doesn't think this Calouste character will give up easily – plus the fact he's certain Calouste has a small army of gunmen in this country. So, Paula, what have I got? Grenades, both explosive and smoke. A rocket launcher I can fit together in thirty seconds. Also an automatic weapon firing six hundred rounds a minute. I guess I'm equipped.' `Equipped for small-scale war,' she commented.
Newman came out looking more comfortable now he could feel a Smith amp; Wesson in its holster. Earlier Harry had gone to the back of the mansion and driven his brown Ford, parking it behind Newman's Merc. He had then gone back again to fetch a black Audi. `Too many cars,' Tweed suggested. 'We could use mine…' `May have been spotted,' Harry explained. 'You head the convoy in the Audi, Newman follows in his Merc, I bring up the rear in the Ford. Leaving your car parked out here in front will suggest to any spies you're still here. And the Audi is armour-plated, with bulletproof windows.' `Good thinking,' Tweed agreed. 'But if we ever locate Heather Cottage I'll wave this red handkerchief out of the window. When I do Newman and Harry drop back, park where they are. A convoy could alert Calouste. I wave the handkerchief a second time when we are ready to assault Calouste's base. Now all we need is someone to open the gates.' `Lavinia will do that,' Marler drawled. `Snape has gone missing.'
At Tweed's suggestion Paula sat beside Marler, who was behind the wheel of the Audi. Tweed chose to sit by himself in the rear. He wanted to concentrate on the complexities of this strange case.
The gates opened before they reached them. Tweed instructed Newman to turn left and head into Gladworth. `You think that's where Calouste is hiding?' suggested Paula. `No, I don't. But Heather Cottage will be within ten or maybe twelve miles of Hengistbury. Far enough away to avoid his being seen, near enough to the manor to react to a development.' `Oh, I said Snape had gone missing,' Marler began. `I tried to find his cottage in The Forest. Failed. Coming back I thought I saw him on the edge of The Forest overlooking the drive. He appeared to be using a mobile phone. I went over to where I'd seen him and no one was there. Could have been an optical illusion.' `When we've driven through Gladworth,' Tweed instructed again, 'look for a minor road or lane which turns off to the right.' `Why not the left?' Paula wondered. `Because according to the map you gave me, beyond Gladworth the left side is covered with The Forest. No escape route. On the right it's open country…' `Marler,' Paula said tentatively, 'what do you do in your spare time?' `Fly my plane, look after it. Or I practise shooting on a range. Keeps me in top form.' `Any girlfriends?' she ventured. `Well, I do like women. Not infrequently when I'm out and about attractive women smile at me. Some quite a bit younger than me. But there seems to be a sort of barrier between me and women. They like to be amused. I can never think of anything to say. Silly.'
Paula had a shock. She had known Marler a long time and it was only now she realized what he was really like. Mader was shy. Where women were concerned. `Keep your minds on the road – with a right-hand turning,' Tweed growled from the back. `Oh, don't be so crochety,' Paula snapped. 'Marler is checking all the time, for Heaven's sake.'
Tweed had learned that there were times when it was wiser not to respond. A moment later Marler slowed, swung the Audi over to the right up a hedge- lined lane. Beyond the hedges were rolling-green hills. No more fir trees. No houses either.
Marler had pulled down his visor. The brilliant sun blazed through the windscreen. After a while of driving round bends in the lane Marler informed Tweed they had travelled fourteen miles. `Keep going,' Tweed ordered.
"There's a white brick house on the edge of the road,' Paula called out.
Marler slowed down. Tweed took out the handkerchief to wave and warn the two cars behind to stop. Paula leaned forward as Marler crawled past. She shook her head and told Marler to keep moving. `No good,' she called out. 'I saw the signboard. Dogwood is the weird name of that place.' `It's also too close to the road,' Tweed commented. `I'm sure Calouste would choose a house well back from the road.'
They drove on another mile without seeing another residence. Paula suddenly leaned forward, looking partly to her left. She told Marler to crawl again. Tweed took out his handkerchief, lowered his window. `Heather Cottage!' Paula called out triumphantly. 'I saw it on the name board… ' `Tricky place to assault,' Tweed decided after studying it through his pocket binoculars. 'Open ground up to the place.'
The Audi was parked out of sight a few yards up the lane. Newman had reacted to Tweed's signal. His Merc was parked out of sight of the target, with Harry's Ford parked behind him. Paula borrowed the binoculars. Heather Cottage was a large two-storey thatched cottage with windows open on both floors, its walls painted white.
Marler lifted up the golf bag from the floor under their feet. Unzipping it, he took out the Armalite rifle, carefully attached the 'scope. Getting out, he aimed it at a rock by the side of the lane, adjusted a screw slightly, checked his aim again. `I'm going up the far side of the hedge running along the edge of the place. There may be a back door they could slip out of.' `I'll come with you,' said Paula, her Walther in her right hand.
By now Harry, heavy satchel on his back, had crawled to the cover of the front hedge, followed by Newman. Harry extracted two large grenades from his satchel, held one in each hand. He grinned. `Tear-gas
grenades. One through the open window downstairs and one through the upstairs window, same side. I go in through the right-hand window.' `I come with you,' said Newman. `I'll watch the front door,' Tweed decided. 'They may come out that way.'
The grenades went in, exploding inside their target areas. Harry rushed forward, dived in through the open right-hand window. A lean evil-faced man wearing jeans and a jacket, neither of which fitted him well, staggered in from the hall, holding a machine-pistol. He tried to aim it. `Behind you!' Harry shouted.
Instinctively the lean-faced gunman looked back. No one was behind him. He vanished into the narrow hall, ran out through the open back door. He had recovered from the whiff of tear gas he'd absorbed. He saw Paula standing by the hedge, swivelled his machine-pistol to mow her down. Two shots were fired from her Walther. The first bullet hit him in the forehead, the second penetrated his chest. He fell against the cottage wall, slid down it, sagged in a heap. `You did well,' said Marler. 'My Armalite slipped on my shoulder. Must be losing my grip.'
Paula ran forward, stooped to check the gunman's carotid arteries. She shook her head as she straightened up. Tweed had just appeared round the front corner of the cottage. `He's dead,' Paula called out. 'From his features he looks French.' She put on a glove, searching his trouser pocket, brought out an almost empty cigarette packet. `Gauloise; she called out. 'He was French.'
Newman's head poked out of an upstairs window. 'Is everything OK out there? Oh, I see it is. Harry and I have checked the place upstairs as well as downstairs. No one here. What's that motorcycle doing leaning against the wall there?' `Escape vehicle he won't be needing any more,' Marler replied, pointing to the corpse. `Kitchen's a real mess,' Newman reported.
Tweed darted inside through the back entrance, followed by Paula. They entered the kitchen. A sudden breeze blew soiled napkins out of the window. The table was laid for three. Plates had remnants of food, two with eggs and bacon, the other with unsavoury- looking sausages. Cups were half-filled with coffee. Paula used a latex glove to pick up and examine a large piece of wrapping paper. It had the name of a butcher's shop in Paris. `French again,' she said. 'So what happened here?' `Calouste was warned by his informer we were on our way,' Tweed said grimly. `Left behind one chap to clean up, the dead one outside.' `He's going to be difficult to capture,' Paula mused. `Or kill,' Tweed said. 'After what Buchanan told me about his track record, the bit known, in France and Austria, that would probably be the best solution. He's one of the most ruthless, cold-blooded villains I've ever encountered. In the meantime we search this place from top to bottom. It's obvious he left in an almighty rush, which means he could have left something behind.'