The Savage Gorge (30 page)

Lance met them in the hall. As usual, his eyes
roamed over Paula.

'Two odd visitors have arrived to see Father,' he told
them. 'Sable, the idiot, answered the door, took them straight to the study. She rushed past me to her room.
I asked her who they were. "No idea," she snapped.'

'Did you hear a word either of them said?'

'I was on the landing. They never said a word. One
was incredibly tall and thin. He
—'

Tweed walked fast across the hall, took hold of the

study door, threw it open and entered. Paula was at
his heels.

Lord Bullerton was seated at his desk, looking very
aggressive. Seated facing him on a couch were Neville
Guile and Lepard.

TWENTY TWO

Lord Bullerton looked up. Tweed thought he
detected relief in his expression. He raised a clenched
fist, crashed it down on his desk.

'Tweed, this man wants me to sell him Black Gorse
Moor. I'm not going to do it for any price.'

'A million pounds is a lot of money,' Guile sneered.

'He has also,' Bullerton continued, 'threatened me
if I refuse. Look at the thug he's brought with him.'

'I'm a professional carpenter.'

'Look,' Bullerton exploded, 'at his right leg! Just lift
the trouser.'

Tweed had already observed the large holster not
exposed. In it was sheathed a huge wide-bladed knife.
Paula, who had also seen it, had sidled round behind
Lepard. In her hand she held the .32 Browning
slipped out of her own leg holster.

Close behind Lepard, she pressed the muzzle hard
against the back of his neck. He stiffened. He knew
what that meant.

'It would be murder,' he said unconvincingly. 'You'd
spend a bad twelve years in Holloway.'

'Don't think so,' said Paula in a hard bitter tone.
'Not with two impeccable witnesses to confirm you were attacking Lord Bullerton.'

'Take it easy,' Guile told Lepard.

'I never do.'

'That's an order I'm giving you,' Guile said in his
cut-glass voice.

He was disturbed by the hard tone of Paula's voice.
Time to quieten down a dangerous situation.

'Now,' began Paula, talking to Lepard, 'you will do
exactly what I tell you. Any tricks and my trigger
finger is itchy. Bend slowly forward, undo the straps
on your holster. Don't touch that knife.'

Lepard slowly bent down. As he did so Paula kept
the Browning's muzzle pressed against his neck. He
unfastened the straps, his face a picture of fury. To be
humiliated by a woman. He held holster and knife
well away from himself.

'Now put it on that table by your side,' Paula ordered.
'I want you to use your elbow to push the whole thing
way over that table. That's right. You can sit up straight
now.' She looked at Tweed, spoke again to Lepard.
'Don't forget my gun will be inches from your head.'

Tweed stepped forward, hands thrust deep inside
his coat. He stared grimly at the billionaire.

'Guile, I'm warning you not to visit Hobart
House. Never again slip into the grounds of his
property. If you do I'll arrest you at once. You'll be
transported in a police car to the Yard, held there
while I phone Chief Inspector Loriot of the DST in
Paris, ask him to send for your immediate extradi
tion to France. I gather he wishes to interrogate you
about certain of your activities in Europe. Now, both of you, leave.'

As he stood up Paula saw Guile stare at Tweed
with a look of venom she'd never seen on another
human being's face. Without a word he walked into
the hall through the doorway Tweed had opened, fol
lowed by Lepard with Paula holding her gun close
behind him.

Margot, close to the front door, unlocked, opened it. They walked out, down the steps towards their
parked Citroen.

'I gather they're not wanted on the voyage,' Margot
said wittily. She turned to a bank of switches, pressed
two. The hall was plunged into darkness, but outside
the terrace and beyond were illuminated with search
light-like glares.

'Just to make sure they leave,' Margot said with a
smile. 'I must get back to my room and homework, if
you'll excuse me . . .'

She reached the top landing and bumped into
Lance, who was on his way from his room. He
squeezed her arm, ran down the staircase and across
the hall to Tweed and Paula.

'Who were those peculiar people?' he asked. 'They never said a word.'

'Some businessmen who came to coax a loan from
your father. He refused.'

'He's always being pestered by people who want
money. Often over the phone.'

'Excuse me,' Tweed said, 'I have a private call to
make.'

In a distant corner, dark despite the lights Margot
had turned on again before she left, he pressed
Harry's number.

'That you, Harry? Good. Where are you?'

'In a hole in a hedge, watching a Citroen approach
from the mansion.'

'Inside are Neville Guile and his henchman,
Lepard. They should drive along the lane. I want to
make sure they leave. Paula and I will soon be driving
up that way. Will pick you up. At the end of the lane
the Citroen will turn left for the London road.'

'Got my car parked in a field. See you.'

Tweed returned to where Lance and Paula were
chatting amiably.

'I really didn't like the look of the tall one with the
cut-glass voice. Slithers when he walks.'

'Good metaphor,' Tweed said with a smile. 'He's a
snake.'

'Hadn't we better get back and make sure Lord
Bullerton is all right?' Paula suggested firmly.

Lance ran back up the stairs, As Tweed passed a
wall of bookcases he paused, felt behind the wide gap

behind them, took out the cardboard roll he'd found
at the back of the brush cupboard in the kitchen.
Paula looked puzzled.

'Why didn't we take that to Lord Bullerton earlier?'

She'd been shown it on their way from kitchen to
hall. A lightning-quick reader, she had memorised its
contents.

'Not in front of other people. Good job I didn't,
considering who his visitors were.'

Entering the study, they found Bullerton seated
again behind his desk. He was drinking the last of a
double Scotch and another glass was waiting for him
on the desk. He waved his glass to them.

'Cheers! And I can't thank you both so much for
protecting me.'

Tweed sat down close to him, hammered the roll on
the desk.

'What is all this about? You must tell me. It could
be a link with my murder investigation.'

'Thought you'd find it. Has Paula also read it?
Good. It is a legal document drawn up by Fingle, local
solicitor. On Neville Guile's instructions. He has
signed it, I have not and won't.'

'You'd be selling the whole of Black Gorse Moor
and all the geological material beneath it for a million,'
said Paula. 'A cool million pounds,' she repeated.
'What could be worth money like that?'

'No idea,' Bullerton told her. 'But if a crook like
Neville Guile offers that much whatever it is has to be
worth ten or twenty times as much. Only Archie

MacBlade could tell you. He wants to meet you for a
late supper at the Nag's Head.'

'But I thought Hartland Trent and now, presum
ably his heirs, had a seventy per cent holding in the
moor,' Tweed insisted.

'That was so. Emphasis on past tense. Guile moves
fast when a fortune is at stake. I raised the Trent issue with him. He gave that awful giggle of his. He'd used
Fingle first to rush through the transfer of Hartland's
estate to his son, Barton. Then he offers the twenty-
year-old Barton - not too bright - seven thousand
pounds for the holding.'

'The robber baron,' Paula exclaimed.

'Young Barton tells Guile he needs ten thousand
pounds. He has a pal with a car he's mad to buy. After
haggling Guile, apparently reluctantly, agrees to pay
ten thousand. Guile has the sale document with him and Barton signs with two neighbours as witnesses.
Guile showed me the document.'

'But without your signature on this document I brought in he has nothing.'

'Nothing.'

'If you don't mind,' Tweed said, standing up, 'I'm
anxious to talk to Archie . . .'

Minutes later Tweed, with Paula by his side, was driving the Audi, slowly along the hedge-lined lane.
Harry appeared in his headlights, waving.

'Neville Guile didn't take the left turn towards
London,' he reported tersely. 'He took the right-hand
turn heading for Gunners Gorge.'