Authors: Colin Forbes
'Well, thank you for your advice. It has not fallen on deaf ears,' Tweed assured her.
He waited until they had reached the bottom of the
track. Paula looked along the lonely road which led to the rest of Rock.
'A waste of time,' Tweed said. 'She described it perfectly. Bob and I explored it when we were once at the Metropole for a day and a night. What are you looking
for?'
Paula was delving deep inside her bag. With a triumphal
air she brought out a small press-pack of white tablets.
'Look. Dramamine! And just down the road there's a shop which sells soft drinks, according to that madly
flapping flag...'
They sat inside a glassed-in enclosure overlooking the estuary. Tweed swallowed a tablet washed down with orange juice and Paula checked her watch, timing thirty minutes. The water was churning now like a cauldron.
Since the woman who had served them was cleaning the
counter close behind they sat in silence for some time.
Then Newman heard the engine of the approaching
machine.
'Let me have my glasses,' he told Tweed.
The grey chopper, flying low, came in from the direction
of the Atlantic. In the lenses Newman saw two men at the
controls - both with their heads covered in helmets and
wearing goggles Very similar to the figure which had been behind the wheel of the powerboat. The woman behind the
counter disappeared through a doorway, slammed it shut. They were alone, so could talk.
'You'll say I'm paranoid,' Newman commented, 'but I think that chopper is searching for us.'
'Which would be alarming,' Tweed said quietly.
'Because it would mean someone has an excellent com
munication system. The crew of the chopper are either
checking to see the wreckage of the ferry
...
'Or,' Paula interjected, stiffening to quell a shiver, 'they
know we survived and, as Bob suggested, they are
searching for us.'
'Looks like the latter,' Newman agreed. 'The ferry is just
going back to Padstow, it's in mid-river.'
They sat in silence again as the chopper swept low over the outgoing ferry, circled it, then flew inland over Rock. Paula found herself sitting very still, although it would be impossible for the helicopter crew to see inside the café.
'The copilot was also using binoculars,' Newman told
them.
He had hardly spoken when they heard the machine
above their heads, a reverberating roar. Newman stood
up, peered out of the window to his right. They could now
hear it hovering. Newman sat down again and a minute
later the machine reappeared, flying over the estuary,
heading out towards the Atlantic, its engine sound fading.
Paula let out her breath.
'It checked that old house we explored,' Newman reported.
'Then it
was
looking for us,' Paula said grimly. 'How the
hell do they know so much? I feel like a bug under a
microscope, our every move foreseen, monitored. It's
uncanny, nerve-wracking.'
'They've also committed a major tactical error by
coming out into the open,' Tweed responded. 'I can see the ferry starting to come back so we'd better make our way to
the landing point on the beach - wherever that may be
now. The tide is starting to come in.'
They had barely stepped down on to the road when
Butler, Cardon and Nield materialized from the rough
ground behind the café. They were brushing themselves down when they reached the road.
'Did that chopper see you?' rapped out Newman.
'Silly question,' Butler rapped back, then changed his
tune. 'Sorry. No, it didn't. We were flat on our backs under
dead bracken and undergrowth. We saw it, heard it com
ing, but they didn't spot us.'
'Messy up there,' the normally immaculate Nield
grumbled. He was wearing a smart business suit. 'Incident
ally the joker next to the pilot had field-glasses. He par
ticularly scanned the old house up the slope you went into.'
'We know that already,' Tweed told him.
There was a bounce in his walk as he headed for the gap
in the hedge and made his way down the ramp on to the beach. The stick with the flag showing the landing point
was closer to the ramp than when they had disembarked.
Was that a day ago? Paula wondered. It seemed so. And why was Tweed so pleased with their diabolical trip to
Rock?
12
'How dramatic!' Paula exclaimed.
As the ferry pitched and tossed and dusk began to fall
the sea was surging in like a small tidal wave. The Atlantic
was inundating the sandbanks which were shrinking in size
even as she watched them. She was surprised - relieved -
when the ferry arrived close to the Padstow shore and
moved on past the bleak cove where they had boarded it.
'We're going to land at the harbour now the water has
risen high enough,' Newman told her.
The narrow channel they had left behind on the outward
trip was far wider. They arrived at the foot of a flight of steps leading up the outer side of the pier. Tweed stepped
ashore on the bottom stone step, where
he stayed to help
Paula.
'Careful,' he warned. The first flight only has a rail on
the inner side against the wall...'
She clung to it as she followed him up. Glancing to her
left, she looked away quickly. With no rail on that side
there was a sheer drop into the river. Higher up there was a
rail on both sides which made her feel
mote comfortable.
She stepped on to the pier, took two paces forward, stopped, stared.
'They've opened the lock gate to the inner harbour.'
'That's because the river level is now the same as the
water inside the harbour,' Tweed explained as he cleaned
his glasses with his handkerchief.
'But it's gone!'
'What has?' Tweed asked, putting on his glasses again.
The
Mayflower
.'
'She sailed soon as the gate was opened,' a seaman
leaning against the wall told Paula. 'Don't expect we'll see
her awhile.'
'Why do you say that?' she asked.
'Amount of provisions they took aboard her. So many
cool bags. Fridge an' freezer must be stacked to gunwales.'
'Who was aboard when she moved out?'
'Squire Gaunt was at the helm . ..'
'Anyone else aboard?'
'Couldn't say.
..'
The seaman moved away as though he felt he'd already
said too much. The others had joined Tweed and Paula.
Because the gate was open and no bridge spanned the gap
they had to walk round all the quays encircling the
harbour.
That does surprise me,' Paula said. 'Gaunt leaving at
such short notice and never mentioning it in the bar.'
'Doesn't surprise me at all,' Tweed replied. 'But I have
no doubt we shall see Squire Gaunt again.'
Tweed said he wanted to make a strictly private call to
Howard and went into the phone box. Paula walked into
the bar with Newman and Cardon. Butler and Nield
remained outside, taking up positions where they had the box under close observation.
Tweed dialled the Surrey mansion first. Howard came to
the phone quickly.
'Have you made any progress? Any solid news?' he
pressed anxiously.
'I can tell you that where we are - out in the wilds - we're
being watched night and day. And I expect you are too...'
Who
is behind all this?' Howard asked vehemently. 'I
tried the PM again. No luck. He's abandoned us.'
'What about Crombie? Are you still in touch with him?'
'Yes, bless him. He phones me with regular reports.
There's still a mountain of rubble to remove. No sign of that safe you mentioned yet.'
They've overlooked Crombie,' Tweed said with grim
satisfaction. Try and throw an iron cordon round someone
and a loophole is always left. Now, listen to me, Howard. I
want you to phone Crombie, tell him when he uncovers that safe to let you know at once and keep it hidden. The moment you hear he has found it send that armoured car
disguised as a security truck to collect it and take it down to
you. Understood?'
'I'll call him as soon as we've finished talking. We are all
feeling marooned here, Tweed. I tried to reach the PM
three times today. Blocked off every time. He's abandoned us,' he repeated.
'Face up to it, Howard. He's done just that...'
Tweed's next call was to Jim Corcoran at London
Air
port. Again he had to coax the Chief Security Officer to do
what he asked him. Eventually, he agreed. Tweed thanked
him, told him in due course he'd realize he had done the
right thing.
His third call, the briefest, was to Newquay Airport. He made certain arrangements on the basis of the
data the girl
receptionist gave him, then mopped his forehead, walked
out of the box and into the bar. But
he felt better. Very
shortly they would be on the move.
Inside the bar, which was quiet, Tweed joined Newman,
Paula and Cardon who were occupying the secluded corner on the upper level in front of the fire. When Newman asked
him what he was drinking he said mineral water.
'Did you phone Howard?' Paula asked. 'I thought so.
What sort of a mood is he in?'
'Feeling trapped. He's had no contact with the PM. He
can't get through to him.'
'That's how I feel,'Paula said. Trapped.'
'Cheer up. And have your bag packed for an early departure tomorrow morning. You'll have to ditch the
Browning before we leave. I must warn the others. No
weapons.'
'I'll dump mine in the sea. But where are we going? Is
anywhere safe any more?'
'One place is. Which is where we're going. It's time to
smoke out whoever is after us. I'm leading them into a
trap. Thank you,' he said as Newman put a glass before
him. He drank greedily. All the recent activity had dehyd
rated him.
'We've been trying to work out who is behind all these
attempts to wipe us out,' Newman began. The answer
could be summed up in the name of one individual:
Gaunt.'
'An assumption so far,' Tweed pointed out.
'Evidence?'
'Gaunt leased his manor for varying periods to Julius
Amberg. Whoever unleashed that massacre knew the
banker would be there. Who could have told them?
Gaunt. We were nearly killed by that powerboat. Who
knew we were taking that particular ferry to Rock?
Gaunt. Who was absent from Tresillian Manor when
Celia Yeo was hurled from the summit of High Tor?
Gaunt - and Jennie.'