No Mercy (43 page)

'What's that?' she asked, staring at the square cavity.

'A drain,' Marler replied. 'Probably leads to a sewer.'

'A perfect resting place for it,' she said.

Lifting it vertically, careful to keep the whole body wrapped in the black coat, he dropped it. They waited.
Again it seemed to take forever before they heard a distant splash. It was a long way down. Marler collected the black
hat, crammed inside it the chain and vessel which had dribbled water and dropped them into the black hole. He
stood up.

'That's it.'

Tweed had moved to the other end, used gloved hands to
lift the heavy drain cover. He swung it on its hinges back into
its original position. Marler fixed the large lock, clicked it closed, stood up.

He gazed round the forest of giant stones, checking to
make sure nothing had been overlooked. He turned to
Tweed.

'There'll be blood on the ground at the base of the
megalith, but it'll soon turn brown.'

'More likely washed away by heavy rain. Now, we must
head fast to Wylye, where the others will be waiting. You ride
with Marler, Paula. I'll park my car near Wylye and transfer
to a Land Rover. We must keep moving. A grim night lies ahead of us.'

27

Tweed led the way along the A303 to Wylye while Paula
rode in the front passenger seat with Marler. Glancing at
her, Marler saw she was having trouble keeping her eyes
open. He pulled in
to a lay-by. After taking off his overcoat,
he folded it and told her to get into the back seat, where he
arranged the coat as a makeshift pillow.

'Stretch out, head on pillow, and sleep,' he ordered.

'Thank you,' she said with a smile.

She was fast asleep before he started driving again. Back
at Stonehenge the sky had been clear, the moon had shone.
Now the weather was changing. A fleet of dark clouds cruising in from the west blotted out the moon. Marler
wondered whether these conditions would suit Tweed's plan,
whatever that was. He had said he'd explain the next move
when they reached the rest of the team.

Ahead of them, Tweed slowed up as he approached the
Wylye area. He turned in to a lay-by as he saw a parked Land
Rover. Empty. No sign of anyone. Cautiously, he climbed
out, the Walther in his hand.

'Don't shoot your friends,' a familiar voice called out. The voice of Harry.

He appeared at Tweed's side, holding a small Uzi machine
pistol. He was followed by Newman and Pete Nield. Tweed
stared - they were all carrying weapons. What on earth had
happened?

'We decided to be very careful while we waited for you,'

Newman explained. 'A couple of patrol cars full of police
came out of a side road. We saw them behind us just in time
to race here and park the Land Rover without lights. They
didn't see the vehicle, just headed towards Exeter with their blasted sirens wailing, lights flashing.'

'What's going on?' asked Tweed half to himself.

At that moment Marler arrived with his Land Rover.
Paula had woken up, sensing Marler had slowed down. Tweed explained what Newman had told him. Paula was bleary-eyed but became alert as she listened.

'So what's all this about?' she enquired.

Tweed was about to reply when Paula's mobile in his
pocket began buzzing. Swearing under his breath, he put it to his ear and spoke quietly.

'Who is this?'

'This,' a voice thundered, 'is Chief Superintendent
Buchanan. Where are you? I got this mobile number from
Monica. Told her you were in trouble . . .'

'You
what?'

'Only way I could get her to give me this number. So
where are you?' he repeated aggressively.

'You sound rattled, Roy. Why?'

'Haven't you read the splashy headlines in the
newspapers? They imply the police aren't doing their job
about the skeleton murders. That we're baffled.
Baffled,
for
heaven's sake. And that you are in charge of the investigation
and haven't got anywhere. I've decided to take over.'

'You can't do that.' Tweed's voice hardened. 'I was given complete charge of the investigation - because you're up to
your neck in anti-terrorist manoeuvres.'

'Where the hell are you now?' Buchanan raved.

'On the verge of discovering the identity of the fourth body found on Dartmoor,' Tweed lied, furious.

'I've read your reports on progress - if you can call it
that — so far. On the basis of your data I've sent a team to
arrest Michael on suspicion of murder.'

'Cancel the instruction immediately. Withdraw the teams
now.
You're doing a marvellous job of messing everything
up. And since when did you take major decisions on the
basis of press reports? You're making an arrest to cover your
backside. I am ordering you to get out of the way of my
investigation.'

'I do have the Home Secretary's backing.'

'He gave the order to arrest Michael? Did he?'

'Well, he left the decision to me, so—'

'Buchanan.' Tweed's tone was grim. 'If you do not
withdraw the order to arrest Michael, to recall your teams,
I shall at once phone the PM.'

There was a long pause. Buchanan knew Tweed could
always gain the PM's support in an emergency. Paula,
standing with her hands in the pockets of her windcheater,
was watching Tweed's expression with delight. In a battle with
the establishment she thought she knew who would win.

'Are you still there, for God's sake?' Tweed shouted.

'Yes. You don't have to be so tough. All right, I will now
radio the teams, tell them the order to arrest Michael is
cancelled, that they must return to base. Be it on your head.'

'This investigation has
always
been on my head. Have I
your word? I need a direct unequivocal reply.'

'All right,' replied Buchanan. 'I've told you I'll cancel the
whole operation immediately. I only hope you know what
you're doing.'

'At least one of us does . . .'

He hit the 'end' button on the mobile. The whole team
were gathered round him as he explained tersely what had
happened. As he concluded Paula tentatively made her comment.

'Supposing Buchanan is right about Michael?'

'That's what we'll eventually find out, probably later
tonight.' He then gave them a brief report on the Stonehenge terror, the end of Charmian. Harry frowned, stared at Paula,
worried.

'When did you last eat, Paula?'

'Frankly, I'm starving, but I'll survive.'

'Might be able to help,' said Harry. He disappeared to
where the second Land Rover was parked. He returned
with Monica's insulated enamel food carrier, opened it, produced packets of wrapped sandwiches, a small bag of
fruit and a bottle of water. 'Which Rover are you travelling
in?'

'She'll travel with me,' Tweed ordered. 'We'll be in the back so I can think.'

'I'll drive,' Marler told him.

'Then I'll drive the other one,' Harry announced, 'with
Pete and Newman as my passengers.'

'We'll wait here a few minutes,' Tweed said, taking the
food carrier from Harry, then escorting Paula to the vehicle.

'Thought he was in a rush,' Marler remarked.

On the back seat of the Land Rover Paula was devouring
one sandwich after another as though she hadn't eaten for
days. Tweed checked his watch.

'We'll give them ten minutes,' he decided.

'Who?' Paula enquired as she started on the fruit after a
long drink from the bottle of water.

'You'll see, if they come.'

A few minutes later they saw the approaching police cars. Two cars tore past in the direction of the M3. Tweed smiled
grimly.

'Buchanan has obeyed my request. He's recalled that team
he was sending to Abbey Grange. Now we can get started.
Marler, you take us in the lead with Harry following behind
us. I'll navigate - it gets tricky near Exeter. We are aiming for
the A30, then we turn off left along the A382 down to
Moretonhampstead — which is where we turn right again
along the road which eventually lands us outside Abbey Grange.'

'Then we're not going to Post Lacey?' Paula asked.

'No. This first lap is so I can check Abbey Grange. See
who's there. Also to look at the place Lucinda called
Nowhere Village. It's on the second lap, later, that we may
well need Harry's heavy armoury.'

'That line of old thatched cottages all joined together?' she suggested.

'That's the place.' He again checked his watch. 'Now all
of you. Move!'

Marler kept up a good speed, especially driving along the
frequent dual carriageways with Harry keeping a sensible
distance behind him. Traffic was light and the night was
pitch black as a heavy overcast of clouds drifted above them.

'I know what I was going to ask you,' Paula said,
suppressing a yawn. 'You seem to think all Armenians are
devious. Why?'

'Some,'
he corrected her. 'It's understandable recalling
their history, which few people do. In the middle of the Great War, about 1915 to 1916, the Turks, who hate
Armenians, launched a terrible massacre campaign. A form of genocide. They slaughtered over one million Armenians.
Those who survived did so by becoming very devious. It was
the only way to stay alive. The world has forgotten that
horror.'

He looked at Paula. It was obvious she was having trouble
keeping her eyes open. He folded his overcoat into a pillow once more, laid it on the seat between them, told her to curl
up and go to sleep. He had heard Marler remarking to Harry
in the lay-by how he had done the same thing.

She fell into a deep sleep immediately. She was woken only by a nightmare. She dreamed that the giant megaliths
were marching on her, were about to stamp her to death.
She blinked, sat up, gazed out of the window. Unlike their
earlier trip, the vast bulk of Dartmoor, like a threatening
menace, was no longer white with snow. Its immense bulk
was black and looming up on her left.

'Where are we?' she asked.

'We're way beyond Exeter, on the A30, just about to turn
left down the road to Moretonhampstead. Then it won't be long before we're on the road to Abbey Grange. I've told
Marler to park about a hundred yards this side of the
mansion. Then we can arrive unexpectedly.'