The Savage Gorge (5 page)

'Impossible!' Tweed burst out.

'I've studied the faces, sir,' Hector assured him. 'It
can be done.' He tapped a large cardboard-backed enve
lope under his arm. 'I have photographed them as they are now. I must warn you,' he went on in his singsong
voice, 'the job will cost you a fortune. Probably ten
thousand pounds only payable if you're satisfied.' He
began dancing round. 'I can see you're sceptical. Why
not come with me to my work den. Just three side roads
from here.'

'I strongly urge you to visit his work den,' Saafeld
said.

Outside, Hector pointed to a large Mercedes parked
beyond the Audi before he danced along the cul-de-
sac towards it. His chubby face was all smiles.

'I'll lead the way. Leaving this close, turn left, then
I'm the third turn-off on the left. My work den has a
red metal cone over the chimney, in case you lose
me . . .'

Dancing off down the cul-de-sac he paused at the
front of his Merc. The rear of his car was facing
the back of the Audi. In his rear-view mirror Tweed watched him fiddling with something.

'"In case you lose me,'" he quoted Hector ironi
cally. 'In this traffic. Where does he think he is? Le
Mans?'

At that moment Hector turned the Merc round and drove past them. Tweed stared. Paula shook with laughter. Tweed glared at her as he started his car.

'What's the matter with you?'

'Didn't you see? He's stretched white ribbon from
the symbol on the bonnet back to each corner of his
windscreen. People will think he's late collecting the
bride and groom from their wedding!'

'Must be batty . . .'

'Or clever. Look what's happening.'

The Merc was swinging all over the place on the
main road as other traffic stopped by the kerb. Hector
was honking his horn gently and politely. A Rolls-
Royce backed a few feet to let him through. Then
Hector vanished.

Paula was checking side turnings on the left, count
ing them. Hector had called back as he left them that
he was at Salty Close. Tweed was crawling behind traffic when Paula warned him.

'Next turning to the left. Salters Close.'

'I thought he said Salty Close.'

'He did.' She dug him gently in the ribs. 'Where's
your sense of humour? Hector has one. And there's
his work place on the right - complete with a red cone
over the chimney. Don't look so grim - we got here.
So did Hector, ahead of you.'

They walked up a short path to an oak front door
which had three knockers, one very high up. Paula took out a coin, spun it and smiled at Tweed.

'I suspect Hector is full of tricks. Lift me so I can
reach the top one.' She pointed to a sturdy wooden
box beyond the step. 'That's for small visitors to stand
on.'

Tweed hoisted her easily, holding her round her
slim waist. She hammered the top knocker twice and
Tweed lowered her to the step. The door opened
quickly after the turning of two locks and the release
of a heavy chain. Hector stood there, beaming.

He looked even stranger since he was wearing a pair
of enormous large-lensed glasses. He pushed them
back over his forehead and stared at Paula.

'That was you, clever girl. I know because you knocked lightly and didn't try to drive the knocker through the door. So come on in.' He was speaking
quickly. 'I need the glasses when I'm working - these
lenses have great magnification. I have started on your
project,' he told Tweed.

After relocking the front door he led them down a
narrow hall into a large room. Paula was startled -

there were wooden tables with various unusual tools
neatly arranged, and shelves stacked with life-size fea
tureless heads in smooth wood, some male, many
female. The ceiling was a slab of thick glass providing
plenty of light.

'My work den,' Hector explained. He wore a short white coat over his suit. 'The top knocker causes that
red bulb to light up, tells me it's someone I know - not
an estate agent wanting to tell me he could sell this place for a fortune.'

'Can I just wander round?' Tweed suggested.
'Never seen anywhere like this.'

'Wander, wander as you wish.' He took Paula gently
by her arm. 'This is the most comfortable chair,' he
went on, leading her to a leather armchair. For a
moment he stared hard at her, then he nodded his
head, turned his back on her and opened a cupboard.

Inside was an amazing collection of models of
women's heads. He chose one, rejected it, chose
another. Paula was suspicious. Hector placed it on a
plinth on a wide shelf, opened another cupboard.
Inside was a huge collection of wigs, also perched on plinths - blonde, jet black, brown. Selecting one with
longish jet-black hair, he used a brush to create a
glossy effect, arranged it on the plinth on the shelf.
By now Paula was thoroughly suspicious. She waited
for him to turn round but he still kept his back to
her.

Finally he opened another cupboard, neatly
arranged, took out an eye shadow, tested the colour

on a sheet of cartridge, then applied it slowly above
the eyeless head. His last act was to choose a lipstick,
then apply that over the wooden lips. At that moment
Tweed returned. For the first time Hector turned
round, looked at Tweed.

'Well, what do you think of this?'

'Good God!' Tweed exclaimed. 'It's Paula.'

'I don't like it.' Paula had jumped up. She checked
her watch. 'And he produced that in five minutes. You're not going to photograph it, I hope,' she said
severely.

Hector looked disturbed. He ran forward and gently
grasped her hand.

'I'm sorry. You have my word it will not be photo
graphed - and within minutes of your leaving it will no
longer exist.'

'Don't get upset,' she urged him in a softer voice. 'I just find it creepy. And you never looked at me.'

'I will confess,' he replied, his voice shaky, 'I could
see you over there.'

He pointed to a large mirror attached to the far
wall. There was something special about it. Her image
was so clear. She managed to smile.

'You clever thing.'

Seeing he was still upset, almost had tears in his
eyes, she kissed him lightly on one cheek.

'Time for us to go,' Tweed said briskly. 'My office
will by now be in turmoil with both of us absent,' he
fibbed. 'Hector, can you give me any idea when you'll
let me have the photos?'

'So sorry, but I never predict that - I don't know. I
assure you I will make it as quick as I can, for a double
murder investigation.'

THREE

'They're all lying, the people we've met - either delib
erately or by omission. Not telling us what they know.'

'Who are they?' asked Paula.

Tweed had turned off the main road, and was head
ing north. His expression was determined. He listed
who 'they' were.

'First, I'll check when Lisa anonymously phoned
the Yard reporting the presence of the two bodies.'

'You really think it was her?'

'Who else? All the occupants of the other houses
would be on holiday. Well off, they go abroad early to
avoid the mobs on the beaches in July and August. Most of their curtains were closed.'

'Lisa is a very nervous person . . .'

'Not nervous enough to imply she didn't know
either of the victims, living on either side of her. This

is a very mysterious case. I know Sergeant Peabody
and he's a good searcher. Yet he has reported no trace
in either house of the victim's identity. No sign of ran
sacking by someone removing identity traces.
Most
mysterious.'

'Falkirk seemed straight enough.'

'No, he didn't. Just happened to be strolling along
such a quiet street with two bodies lying on the steps.
Coincidence? Don't believe in them.'

'I'm not thinking clearly,' she admitted.

'You were thrown by the extraordinary likeness of
yourself Hector produced for my benefit.'

'Your
benefit?'

'Mine,' Tweed replied. 'He sensed my scepticism
about his work so he gave me a demonstration to
impress me. Must say, I was very impressed.'

'Where are we going now? This looks like the street
where the murders were committed.'

'It is. I'm going to put Miss Lisa Clancy through the
verbal wringer.'

'Tweed here,' he said using Lisa's speakphone. 'Open
the door. I have questions to ask you.'

Tm very tired . . .'

'So am I. You have two options. Open the door or
I'll call the police to open it. Then I'll escort you to
Scotland Yard.'

'You sound so different.'

'The door.'

Within a minute they heard chains being removed,
two locks turned. Lisa was wearing a velvet jacket and
trousers. Expensive. She gave Tweed a flashing smile,
ignored Paula as though she did not welcome her
presence. She led them along a hall with a blue fitted
carpet to a staircase. On one side of the hall was an
antique refectory table on which was perched a Ming vase. Paula smelt money.