The Savage Gorge (14 page)

'My father wasn't drunk,' Lance pressed on. 'He
can consume a large quantity without it affecting him.
Reminds me of what I read in a Winston Churchill
biography. Winston once said he'd taken more out of
alcohol than alcohol had taken out of him.'

'Do your sisters Sable and Margot like each other?' Tweed asked suddenly.

'I'm afraid they hate each other . . .'

'Why?'
Tweed demanded.

'Sable is my father's favourite. She'd like to be Lady
Bullerton when he passes away one day.'

'Peculiar,' Tweed said, having finished his cake. 'Normally the title descends to a male relative. In this
case yourself.'

'I don't want the damned title. Excuse me,' he said
to Paula. 'All that responsibility. I prefer to enjoy
myself. As to tradition, when King John, or whoever it
was, conferred the title on an ancestor centuries ago,
a special clause was added that if a male candidate
refused to accept it then the title passed to the nearest
female available.'

'And in this case Sable?' Tweed suggested.

'It would actually be Margot, who was born a year
before Sable.'

'And yet Sable is your father's favourite. Why?'

'He thinks her personality is superior to Margot's,
gives her fantastically expensive presents on her birth
day.'

'Like the diamond brooch she flaunted,' Tweed said
grimly.

'Flaunted?'

For the first time the smile vanished off Lance's
face, was replaced by a sneering curl of his lips.

'Never mind,' said Tweed.

'I expect you have a lot of girl friends,' Paula inter-

vened, appalled by Tweed's aggressive treatment of
everything Lance had said.

'Oh, lots and lots,' Lance said, the smile returning when he turned to her. Tm afraid I'm rather wicked.
I've got a small pad in Gunners Gorge Father doesn't
know about. When a girl attracts my attention I settle
her there. Until she starts talking about marriage.
Then I wait until she's out. I pack all her things neatly
in her suitcase, place it in the hall, get the locks
changed at once.'

'Isn't that a bit tough on her?' Paula suggested.

'Until she gets home,' Lance said with a grin.
'When she unpacks she finds an envelope stuffed with money.'

'That probably eases her sorrow,' Paula said with a
smile.

'Don't much care whether it does or not. Self-inter
est is what drives the world.' He turned to Tweed,
tried again. 'Would it be possible for the two of you to
dine with my father at Hobart House this evening?'

'Don't see why not. What time?'

'Would 8 p.m. suit you, sir?'

'Yes, it would.' Tweed stood up, abruptly the soul of
good humour. 'Please thank your father and say we're
looking forward to seeing him again. Also, I would like
to thank you for the truly excellent tea. To get this in
London you'd have to go to the Ritz or the Savoy. I
have enjoyed every minute of it. Thank you. Please excuse us - we must leave now . . .'

'I think you were pretty tough on Lance,' Paula com
mented as they walked through the entrance hall,
keeping her voice low.

'You've certainly been with me long enough to
know I adapt my tactics to obtain information. They
worked.'

'It's been raining while we were having tea,' Paula
remarked, gazing through the front entrance before Tweed turned into the garage.

'Buckets of it,' called out landlord Bowling. 'All the
time you were having tea. Drenched down - a cloud
burst. The river has risen. It will be coming over the
falls like an express train.'

'What did you think of Lance?' Tweed asked as they
entered the garage and headed for his Audi.

'Very smooth. Too smooth for my liking. I would
never trust him despite his good looks - which he
obviously exploits to the full.'

'I think, like the others round here, with the excep
tion of old Mrs Grout, he was lying. Now I want
to drive all the way along the High Street and up to
Aaron's Rock at the top of the gorge. Should be quite a sight after all the rain . . .'

As he was cruising along the High Street, Paula
used her binoculars to study the road on the far side
of the river. On each bank a wide area of grass separated road from river.

'They call that road on the far side Ascot Way,' she
observed. 'The horsey lot must live over there. Tweed,
could you park for a moment? I've spotted the path

which probably leads to the stone Pit Bull had erected
when Lizbeth drowned.'

'
If
she drowned,' Tweed said as he climbed out, fol
lowing Paula along the curving path through lush
green grass.

'Why "if"?' Paula called back.

'They found her clothes neatly piled by the river.
Despite the fact everyone agrees she was sloppy and
untidy in her habits. The discrepancy bothers me.'

'Look at the wording on the stone,' she exclaimed.

FOR LIZBETH

YOU WILL RETURN ONE DAY
YOUR LOVING FATHER

'It doesn't add up,' she protested. 'The affection.
When you think this is the same man who stormed off
the terrace as we were leaving. How abusive he was -
not only to us but also to Archie MacBlade.'

'I agree. We still don't know what sort of a man Lord Bullerton really is. As I've told you before,
human nature is a fascinating and complex mixture.
Now for the Gorge. The river is indeed very high.'

Lepard sat in a chair overlooking the High Street
closer to the Gorge. He had chosen the only accom
modation available for a two-week stay, a cottage with
a notice in the front window.
Room Available For short
Let.

He would never be recognized now even in the East
End. He wore a large grey shaggy wig with a very
British wide-brimmed straw hat he never took off. He
had explained to his landlady, Mrs Wharton, that he
had been ill, that the doctor had warned him never to
expose his head to the sun and to protect his hands.
He therefore always wore gloves. No fingerprints. He
had even gone to the lengths of wearing contact lenses
that changed the colour of his eyes. To complete the disguise he now wore large horn-rimmed spectacles
with plain
glass. With his disguise removed he was
confident Mrs -Wharton would never pick him out of
a police line up, if it-ever came to that.

On his mobile he told his second-in-command, Ned
Marsh, to bring up a bazooka with rockets when he
summoned his gang to Gunners Gorge.

He had foreseen that Tweed might summon his key team. In which case it would be a massacre, probably
launched by his gang from the top of the Gorge,
which he had explored very thoroughly. The window
he watched through was masked by dense net cur
tains. He could see out but no one could see in. The
only disadvantage was he was too far up the High
Street to view the Gorge or its summit.

He sat up straight with shock as Tweed's Audi
cruised slowly past. If it was Tweed's habit to travel
the same route he was a dead man.

'You know,' said Paula as they neared the turn-off

leading direct to the summit of the Gorge, 'I don't see
how Cromwell's cavalry ever climbed those steps as
Bullerton described. Hooves would slither all over
them.'

'You've missed something,' he told her. 'Alongside
each flight there is a wide grass verge between steps
and the beautiful houses. Horses could easily mount
as high as they needed to by galloping up the grass.'

'Of course. I missed that,' she admitted.

'Another thing,' he went on. 'Last night before I got
into bed I phoned Marler and asked him to come up
here today, so he could arrive at any moment.'

'Why Marler?' she wondered.

'Because he is a master strategist. So it's important
that he checks the lie of the land, especially in this
area.'

Further down the High Street, Lepard was still
watching through the net curtains, seated comfortably
in his chair behind a table. A few minutes after spot
ting Tweed's Audi he saw the next vehicle, a green
Saab, driving slowly towards the Gorge. Without pas
sengers there was a single driver behind the wheel.
Lepard saw no significance in this brief event, assum
ing it was one of the locals
...

Approaching the turn-off to Aaron's Rock, Paula
became aware of a disturbing sound, a muted roar of
great power which steadily increased as Tweed drove
up a steep dusty track. On either side high granite
boulders gave her a feeling of claustrophobia.

They were in the open now. Tweed turned the Audi

round for a swift departure. Jumping out of his car he
was followed more slowly by Paula. She was staring at
a huge cloud of spray and the roar had become deaf
ening.

Determined to keep up with Tweed she ran after
and past him, stopping suddenly as she gazed at the
awesome spectacle. The river was the kind of surge
you see when a massive dam breaks. Her feet and her
willpower carried her towards the brink and she stared
down.