The Savage Gorge (22 page)

'Noak Island. Could that be important? Somewhere
remote out in the Atlantic?'

'All great minds think alike.' He smiled. 'I was just
wondering about that myself.'

'And there's a strange item in the paper. Something
about Asiatic pirates who grabbed a big oil tanker,
fully laden, about seven months ago.'

'I spotted that too.'

Tweed stopped talking as someone rapped on the
door.

He had his Walther behind his back as he unlocked
the door. Outside Archie MacBlade stood with
Falkirk. MacBlade smiled as he politely put the ques
tion.

'Any chance of our having a confidential chat now?'

'Perfect timing. I have Paula with me. Come in.
Seat yourselves while I listen.'

MacBlade chose a large couch after hugging Paula,
asking how she was, whether she had slept well.

'Very OK,' she said with a warm smile. 'Slept solidly
the whole night through.'

Falkirk had joined MacBlade on the couch.
MacBlade waved a hand at his companion.

'Think it was time I came clean. I was the one who
hired our mutual ally, Falkirk.'

SIXTEEN

Tm stunned,' said Paula.

'Why?' asked Tweed.

'
I’d never have guessed that in a hundred years,' she
exclaimed.

'
Why?'
demanded Tweed.

'Because,' MacBlade explained, 'I needed someone
first-rate to check on Neville Guile, to find out every
thing he could about the villain. I could hardly come
to you, Tweed - not with you running your own show,
as you always do. We've been discussing Guile's secret
island, Noak. The mysterious Noak out on the Gulf
Stream.'

'Could be idyllic,' Paula mused. 'Palm trees and
coconuts.'

'Or something grimmer,' said Falkirk, with a warm
smile.

It was the first time she'd seen Falkirk relax. She
found she was beginning to like this tough lean-faced
man.

'I need every bit of information you've dug up,'
Tweed said very seriously.

There was another tapping on his door. Again he
concealed his Walther behind his back before unlock
ing the door. Marler was standing outside with a long
cardboard roll tucked under his arm. Tweed lowered
his voice.

'I have Archie MacBlade and Falkirk with me.
Paula too. We are beginning to discuss Neville Guile's
secret island, Noak.'

'Which is why I've come to see you. I now know a
lot about how to get to the place. There are traps.'

'You'd better come in and join the party, then.'

Introductions were swiftly over. Marler laid the
cardboard roll on the cleared table they were now
gathered round.

He looked at Tweed for a signal.

'Do I reveal everything I've discovered?'

'Everything,' Tweed assured him.

'This map,' Marler began, 'I obtained from a
mariner friend high up in his service. They know of the island's existence but do not know it belongs to
Neville Guile. Here goes . . .'

From the cardboard roll he extracted a large map,
spreading it to flatten it. Paula immediately recognized
it as showing the western coast of Brittany, the
Channel Islands, a vast stretch of the Atlantic with

another island well to the west of the Channel Islands
group. The island was circled in red.

Near the bottom of the large sheet was another
map, a detailed outline of Noak. A drawing on this
map showed steep cliffs and a section of dotted lines
shaped like a triangle with the narrowed apex ending at a gulch. Marler pointed to the dotted lines projecting into the Atlantic.

'That's the trap,' he explained. 'Guile has sophisti
cated radar which picks up any vessel approaching
Noak.'

'Is there a gap covering a landing point invisible to
this radar system, maybe caused by the high over
hanging cliffs?'

'Clever girl,' Marler said with an admiring smile.
'That is where we land without Guile knowing we've
arrived. Tricky, but I could manage it.' He looked
round the table. 'Presumably the vessel available will
be crewed by me and Falkirk?'

'No,' snapped Tweed. 'Has it ample capacity for
more people?'

'Yes. It's very roomy. Has a small stateroom.'

'Then it will also be crewed, as you put it, by me,
Paula and Harry. We need power in case we come up against guards.'

'True.' Marler stood up, the map rolled and back in its case. 'I've got things to arrange, consult someone
about weapons.' Both Tweed and Paula knew he meant
Harry, but was being typically cautious since MacBlade
and Falkirk were present. He turned at the door.

'Timetable? I can be ready within two days, even by
tomorrow.'

'In case of emergency think of tomorrow,' Tweed decided.

MacBlade and Falkirk left soon after him. Paula waited until they were alone before she voiced her doubts.

'Aren't we leaving Gunners Gorge before we've checked it out thoroughly?'

'Yes, we are,' Tweed agreed. 'But Neville Guile is
one of a number of strong suspects. I need to find out
what he's up to on this mysterious island of Noak.
He's rushed off, and my instinct is that he's on his way
there.'

'What's next today, then?'

'A visit by both of us to Hobart House. I want to
interrogate Bullerton's two daughters, Sable and
Margot. Girls can be very observant.' He smiled.
'They have been known to listen unseen at closed
doors . . .'

'I don't like that knife Margot carried concealed in
a sheath.'

'Also,' Tweed continued, 'I'd like to grill Mrs
Shipton. Something's not right about her. I asked
the landlord where she came from. He said out of the
blue, no idea where. A year or two after Myra had her
so-called accident and went over the falls.'

Inside the garage they found a livid Lord Bullerton

pacing back and forth. He addressed Tweed abruptly.

'Would you believe it? My fool of a chauffeur has taken my car to the mechanic way north of the bridge
beyond the Gorge. Didn't consult me - just left a
note. I'll have his guts for garters!'

'Where were you going?' Tweed enquired.

'Just back to Hobart House. But it's one hell of a
walk.'

'We're going there in my car,' Tweed told him. 'Give
you a lift.'

'There are some gentlemen left in this mess of a
world,' he growled. 'I accept your offer gratefully.'

Paula opened the front passenger door of the Audi, gestured with a smile. He quietened down, gave her a
grateful warm smile, climbed aboard as she closed the
door and parked herself in the back seat as Tweed
took over behind the wheel.

As they were approaching the country road turn-off
to Hobart House they saw Mrs Grout watering plant
pots placed on either side of her red front door.
Bullerton pointed at her and snorted contemptuously.

'Barmy old bag.
Crocodiles!
'

SEVENTEEN

Margot opened the front door, Bullerton pushed past
her, calling over his shoulder that he had a pile of work
waiting in his study. Margot had to jump aside to
avoid being knocked over.

'Good morning, Margot,' Tweed greeted her with a
warm smile. 'I need to talk to just you and Sable.'

'Do we have to drag in Sable?'

'I do need to talk to the two of you together. No one
else present.'

'OK. Sable's in the library. Not in the best of
moods, so life is normal,' she concluded with a mischievous grin. As they reached the library door she
paused. 'That was catty of me. I erase the remark . . .'

She was smartly turned out, wearing white roll-neck
jumper, a checked pleated skirt, sensible flat-heeled
shoes.

'Company, Sable,' she announced as they entered.

Scowling, Sable sat at a desk with papers spread
untidily over its surface, her blonde head bent over them.

'Tell them to go to hell,' she rasped. Tm busy with
university homework.' Then she looked up, saw who
the visitors were. Her attitude was transformed. The
scowl was replaced by a flashing welcoming smile.
Jumping up, she ran to Tweed, threw both arms
round him, hugged a little too passionately, watching
Margot over his shoulder.

Releasing him she held out her hand to Paula,
squeezed it warmly. Leading them both to a couch,
she ignored Margot. She was taking control.