The Main chance tac-23

by Colin Forbes

  At last he had her. He became aware his clasped hands had been tightly clenched. He relaxed, leaned closer to her. `So how do you know that?' he snapped. `It's in the newspaper. Today's. Paula can show you.'

  Tweed sighed inwardly. She had trumped his ace. Rapidly he listed the other occupants of the manor. While she waited Lavinia leant back and put her arms behind her neck, then stretched her body. A normal reaction, Tweed told himself quickly. She had remained previously in exactly her original position. It was a natural act of exercise. She then leant across the table, her hands lightly interlaced. `I get the impression there is intense rivalry, verging on physical violence at times. What is their relationship? Crystal and Leo,' he said. `Brother and sister.' She smiled to show she wasn't making fun of him. 'The trouble is Crystal is the younger, twenty-eight. She always thinks Leo gets more attention from her father. She doesn't like it.' `Why not?' `Because…' She smiled again. 'She expects plenty of attention from men.' `At times Crystal seems almost savage.' `That's simply her vitality.' `Mrs Grandy,' he said suddenly. 'I admit I've overlooked her. Presumably Bella had her vetted before she employed her. Where does she come from?' `No one knows. She appeared in Gladworth five years ago. She's a marvellous cook, always punctual, acts also as the housekeeper. At 5 a.m. a small group of girls come in from Gladworth. They clean the whole house, leave by 6.30 a.m., which is probably why you've never seen them. We are well organized here.' `One last question, Lavinia.' Tweed paused to see her reaction.

  He waited. She waited. Her blue eyes seemed to swallow him up. He was developing a tingling sensation. Thank God we're in a public room, he thought. `One last question,' he repeated. 'You know these families and everyone else in this vast mansion better than I ever will' He paused. 'So who do you think is the most likely suspect responsible for the murders?'

  As soon as he'd asked the question he regretted doing so. It was inappropriate, to say the least. She was a suspect as were all the others in the place. Why had he done it? Some invisible bond seemed to have brought them together. `I've thought and thought about that,' she said slowly. Tut thinking as hard as I can I don't find myself pinpointing one person. Sorry.' She stood up, smoothed down her skirt. 'And now I think I'd better ask Paula to come down to see you with the newspapers.

  He stood up to thank her. She was round the table and next to him in a flash. They were about the same height. `Thank you for your patience and consideration,' she said. She kissed him briefly, full on the mouth. 'I do like you,' she said and strode on her long legs to the door.

  30

  Tweed felt exhausted. He walked over to the drinks cabinet, took out a glass and the cognac bottle. He poured himself a modest drink. He had not slept well. The faces of the different inhabitants of the manor had kept appearing. Which one?

  The door opened quietly and Paula came in, the sheaf of newspapers tucked under her arm. She paused as Tweed turned, sipped at his drink. She chuckled. `She road-blocked you, didn't she?' `The most unsatisfactory interrogation I've ever conducted. Yes, she road-blocked me every time,' he admitted as he sat at the table. `I thought she would,' Paula observed, sitting opposite him. 'She's the cleverest person living here. Shall I wait before I show you the papers?' `No. My head has cleared. Show me them now.' `Typically, Lavinia arranged the papers in date order, so the most recent comes last…'

  Tweed took the pile of newspapers from Paula and began to skim through the front pages of each paper. The headlines were huge.

  RICHEST BANKER IN WORLD HORRIFICALLY MURDERED MAIN CHANCE'S BELLA MAIN: THROAT BRUTALLY SLASHED LADY OF NIGHT MURDERED BY SAME METHOD AS BELLA MAIN

  `Oh Lord,' Tweed muttered, 'and now we have Drew Franklin after us. How the devil did he find out so quickly about Mrs Carlyle? In three days he's blown the lid off the case. We can expect trouble from London.'

  The phone rang. Tweed glanced at Paula, picked it up. It was Lavinia, calm as ever despite the news she had to impart. `Commander Buchanan is on the line. He does sound a bit worked up. I'll put you through then get off the line.' `Yes?' said Tweed. `What the devil's going on down there?' Buchanan shouted. 'Have you see the papers, the headlines? All hell is breaking loose up here. I've had a cabinet minister on the phone – he is probably a discreet depositor in the Main Chance. He urged me to take you off the case, to hand it over to Chief Inspector Hammer. I refused his request, explained you now knew more about the case than anyone. But have you a suspect? Can you break the case in the next twenty-four hours? The City are getting nervous. Somehow they have picked up a rumour that a fabulously rich foreigner is going to bid a fortune for the bank. That would put whoever it is in a position to use Main Chance to buy up some of the big British banks. This case is now becoming international. Tweed, are you still there?' `Yes,' Tweed replied calmly. 'Have you got the spleen out of your system? I've sent my Director, Howard, reports early in the mornings. You know he never gets to bed early. And he's good at soothing down politicians, so suggest he has a chat with this anonymous cabinet minister. I have no more to say. Thank you for the call.' "There's a lot of detail in the text,' Paula told Tweed. `Bob Newman, a top reporter, is a friend of Franklin's. Maybe he could get Drew to go easy.' `Not possible,' said Newman who had entered, had heard her suggestion. 'Drew is a friend of mine but basically he's a reporter. He won't soft-pedal a big story like this for anyone. He's a real professional.' `We're in a real mess then,' Paula commented. `No, we're not,' Tweed said decisively. 'The problem is still the same. Clearly Drew has an informant here, so who is it? Someone Drew offered a tempting sum of money to tell him when given a hint of the scope of the story.' `So what do we do?' `Nothing about the leak. For the moment. But I'm going to continue stirring everybody here up. Something is going to break…'

  He stopped talking as Harry hurried into the library and began speaking quietly close to Tweed. `Something's happening. You know that arched entrance we found had been unblocked? Well, outside now there's a trail of dried blood leading along the path to that big chalk pit.' `Alert the whole team.' `I have done. They're all on their way there.' `So are we.'

  Marler, holding his Armalite, and Newman were on the manor side of the arched gate when Tweed arrived with Paula. Harry pushed past them, peered out, Walther in his hand. He nodded. All clear. `The path leads direct to the big chalk pit. Abandoned long ago would be my guess.' `We'll follow it,' Tweed ordered. `Could be another trap,' Harry warned. `Good. Time we met the enemy face to face.'

  Harry led the way, crouched over the trail, followed closely by Tweed and the rest of the team. The weather had changed drastically. The sun was gone. In its place a still white mist enshrouded The Forest. Trees were vague silhouettes. Tweed paused, bent down, ran his finger lightly over one of the occasional large dried splashes of blood. He sniffed it, cleaned his finger quickly with his handkerchief. `Funny sort of blood,' he told Paula and Marler who had now caught up with him. 'Not like human blood.'

  Then he began running to catch up with Harry. Behind him Paula marvelled at the speed and agility Tweed was moving at. Not long ago they had attended a refresher course at the secret training mansion hidden away in Surrey – climbing ropes, crawling through large drainpipes and all the rest. They always called the chief trainer Sarge but the normal trainer had been on holiday. In his place was another tough Sarge who liked martial arts. Tweed disliked martial arts, regarding them as a waste of time. As the new Sarge was dancing about prior to attack Tweed had leapt straight at him fist clenched, hitting him a heavy blow on the jaw. The trainer collapsed, was taken to hospital with a broken jaw. End of course.

  Paula recalled this as she saw Tweed catching up with Harry who was now moving fast. She didn't like the atmosphere as they continued along the snaking path. The mist made it difficult to see what was a tree or a man.

  They had covered a long distance when Harry stopped, held up a hand. `We're very close to the huge chalk pit. The Forest stops suddenly and there's a clear ground, an open slope to the edge of the pit.' `It isn't just
huge,' Marler drawled. 'I've seen it. More like an amphitheatre. There's a small hilltop over to the right. The perfect lookout point. I suggest we get up there first.'

  Harry led the way up to the hilltop followed by the others. Tweed ignored the advice. He paused to glance round. Over to his left a remote stand of giant firs extended towards the edge, creating large black shadows. One especially dark shadow he assumed was a large boulder. Walther in his right hand, he began to descend the slope alone.

  An amphitheatre? Marler had been right. The pit was vast and deep. On the far side were the remnants of a rusty crane. It had, years ago, obviously been used to haul up chalk and drop it into waiting trucks.

  There was a sinister silence over the whole abandoned area. Tweed continued walking down the slope. He waited to check the interior of the pit. There could be men with rifles waiting down there. His boots crunched on chalk as he reached the edge, peered over. Lord, it was over a hundred feet down. At the base to his right and left were immense piles of powdered chalk. He heard something to his right.

  On the hilltop Marler had restrained Paula from calling out. He had simply placed a hand over her mouth. `Do not distract him,' he warned. `But Harry has just said the cliff is unstable,' she whispered furiously from behind the hand.

  At the edge, Tweed stared at the black shape he'd assumed was a boulder. Something large – a black cloak – was thrown to one side and a man with a face of crinkled skin was on him, a large wide-bladed knife in one hand, raised to strike. It happened very quickly. Calouste himself.

  Tweed dropped his Walther. Calouste was too close to use it. His right hand whipped up, grasped his opponent's knife hand, slid instantly higher to the forearm, pressing a certain nerve. They were struggling on the edge of eternity, swaying back and forth. The brutal knife was still in the hand of the killer. Tweed was surprised at the killer's strength.

  His left hand darted upward, two stiffened fingers extended, aimed at his opponent's eyes. His right hand tightened its grip on the nerve. His opponent grunted with pain and his fingers clasping the knife loosened their grip. He jerked his head back away from Tweed's pointed fingers.

  Tweed jabbed them savagely forward, still aimed at the eyes. Both men were arched backwards over the precipitous drop. Tweed forced himself back. His opponent came with him. Tweed's right hand dug deeper into the nerve. The knife fell from the hand, slithered down into the chalk pit. Loss of his weapon seemed to take the strength out of the killer.

  On the hilltop Paula suddenly started running down the slope in a desperate effort to save Tweed. No one had been able to shoot. The bodies of the two men struggling were too close together.

  Marler took off, his long legs taking giant strides. Reaching Paula, he fell on her, pinning her to the ground. She yelled at Marler, `Bastard!' `You'll distract Tweed if he has to worry about saving you,' Marler told her.

  Tweed raised one leg, scraped his boot down the killer's shin. A grunt of pain. Tweed's boot continued down the shin. He put all his force into crushing the killer's foot. A scream of agonizing pain. The killer's arms gripping Tweed's body released him. At that moment Tweed's left hand clawed at the killer's face, felt softness. The leather mask he had been wearing came away in Tweed's hand, exposing the face of a younger man.

  The killer's back was now facing the edge. Tweed used both hands to shove hard against his chest. The killer's body sailed over the brink, legs twirling as he sank down and down. Tweed watched as the body reached the bottom, falling on a rock. The body, legs splayed, lay very still. He heard Harry shouting, both hands cupped round his mouth. `Get well back now! The cliff's unstable!'

  Tweed turned round, took a mighty leap, his legs trembling as he landed on hard rock. Behind him he heard a rumbling sound. He glanced back. At least a foot of where he had been standing had disappeared. There was a deep thud from the base as tons of cliffs reached the bottom, engulfing the body of the killer forever.

  Marler had released Paula. He was trying to help her up, but she brushed aside his helping hands. Instead she used her own to wipe remnants of chalk off her clothes. `Who the devil was that?' Tweed asked, still holding the pliable mask in his hands. 'I thought it was Professor Heathstone we met at Pike's Peak Hotel.' `Look at it,' said Harry.

  A white cloud of powdered chalk was rising above the brink, the result of the enormous fall of the chalk cliff. Tweed nodded, his manner fresh and brisk. `Our next job is to kill the real Calouste. I'm sure he's still hidden away at Shooter's Lodge, awaiting the good news that I'm dead.'

  31

  Tweed was walking up the main drive to the manor with Paula and Marler. It had been his decision to return by this route. He'd wanted to conceal from the inhabitants the fact that he had left by the arched gate and visited the chalk pit. `I've changed my mind,' he told them as they mounted the steps. 'We'll let Calouste stew a few hours. Harry is going to Shooter's Lodge to keep an eye on developments.'

  He had just spoken when they heard Harry, who had run ahead of them start up his motorcycle behind the manor. He appeared on his machine, sped down the drive. Glancing back,Tweed saw the gates swinging open again. It did not surprise him when Lavinia opened the door. Her reactions were impressive. She had opened the gates for him before he'd used the speaker-phone. The gates had closed automatically once they were inside. Now she'd immediately reopened them to let Harry out. `Harry's off to Gladworth to fetch some things,' he told her. `Welcome back,' she greeted him with a smile. 'And the sun has come out again. That's for your benefit.' `You got here to open the gates twice,' he remarked. `Where is Snape?' `The idiot saw you coming, said he'd got something cooking on his stove and rushed off to the cabin.' `Lavinia, excuse me, I've got to attend to something.'

  Tweed tore off out of the hall, down a corridor, followed by a puzzled Paula and Marler. He was rushing through the kitchen when Mrs Grandy glowered at them. `If you want a late lunch you'll have to ask me nicely.' `Yes, please,' Tweed replied over his shoulder. `Ravenous.'

  He dived through the open back door and hurtled along the path leading to the cabin. Both Paula and Marler had trouble keeping up with him. He slowed his pace, held up a hand to warn his companions. He crept up to the cabin door.

  Paula peered over his shoulder. Snape was standing by the table with his back to them. He had a mobile phone pressed to his ear. They could hear every word. `Capricorn reporting. Tweed is alive. `Yes, you heard me correctly. I've just seen him `I promise you I have, sir. `No, no, sir. It was only a few minutes ago. I thought you said he'd be dead this morning… `No, sir, I can't help that. No, he wasn't wounded. He was walking briskly. Even hurrying. Hello? Hello? Are you still there? Damn him, he always does that.'

  Snape slipped his mobile into a side pocket, turned round. His expression of surprise and horror when he saw Tweed was quite a picture. `Don't worry. We heard every word. How is Calouste?'

  Who?… Who did you say?' Snape blustered. `Handcuff him, Marler,' Tweed snapped. He advanced on Snape as Marler forced the butler's hands behind his back and cuffed his wrists tightly. 'You are under arrest,' Tweed said, his voice grim, 'for obstructing the course of justice in a major murder investigation. Anything you say may be taken-' `I took down every word he said,' Paula reported, waving her notebook. `Well,' sneered the butler, 'your lady friend who also-'

  Tweed slapped his face hard before he could utter the obscenity. He stared at Snape with detestation. `We have three witnesses to your treachery. I doubt whether any barrister will be keen to defend you. I predict the judge will send you down for ten years without the option of parole.' He turned away. 'Paula, could you search his cabin for any more evidence while we're all still here.'

  Marler had been searching Snape. Inside one pocket he found a bunch of keys, handed them to Paula. She examined them carefully. She inserted one of the cheap keys into the lock of the gun cupboard. It opened the door. `Not much security for all those weapons,' she observed. `And that shotgun,' Marler added, 'is a very ugly brute.'


  Paula moved swiftly round the room, ignoring the flimsy locks. During her training at Medfords she had learned a lot about locks. She stood, staring round the room, then put on latex gloves and felt underneath the table. `Ah,' she said to herself, bending down. There was a secret drawer out of sight, about six inches beyond the table edge. She inserted the Banham key, opened the drawer, brought out a long, wide fat envelope.

  Laying it on the table top, she extracted a large bundle of high-denomination Swiss banknotes. She looked at Snape, who couldn't meet her gaze. `The wages of treachery,' Tweed remarked. 'He's going behind bars for a very long time. Paula, when we get back to the manor please call Buchanan, tell him what we have found, ask him to send a two-man police car down quickly to pick up Snape. Marler, I suggest you take him back to the kitchen, tell Mrs Grandy he's a spy and is not to be given anything to eat. As much water as he needs.'

  ***

  `Next,' Tweed told Paula as they walked back to the manor, 'I want to interrogate Warner Chance intensively. He was short on answers the last time I interviewed him..

  While Paula went into the downstairs library to make her call to Buchanan, Tweed ran up the stairs, heading for the smaller library. At the top of the second flight he met Lavinia.

  Would you mind giving me a hand?' he suggested. `At any time, day – or night,' she replied with a Mona Lisa smile. `This box of tricks Bella used to summon people,' Tweed began as they stood by the murdered woman's desk. 'It's far more sophisticated than I'd realized. I came up on my own and fiddled with it. There's a system which records all calls she made and the response of the person she was calling inside the manor. In addition it records the exact time of the conversation' He pressed a small lever.