Colin Forbes - The Savage Gorge

'I think you were pretty tough on Lance,' Paula com mented as they walked through the entrance hall, keeping her voice low.

'You've certainly been with me long enough to know I adapt my tactics to obtain information. They worked.'

'It's been raining while we were having tea,' Paula remarked, gazing through the front entrance before Tweed turned into the garage.

'Buckets of it,' called out landlord Bowling. 'All the time you were having tea. Drenched down – a cloud burst. The river has risen. It will be coming over the falls like an express train.'

'What did you think of Lance?' Tweed asked as they entered the garage and headed for his Audi.

'Very smooth. Too smooth for my liking. I would never trust him despite his good looks – which he obviously exploits to the full.'

'I think, like the others round here, with the excep tion of old Mrs Grout, he was lying. Now I want to drive all the way along the High Street and up to Aaron's Rock at the top of the gorge. Should be quite a sight after all the rain…'

As he was cruising along the High Street, Paula used her binoculars to study the road on the far side of the river. On each bank a wide area of grass separated road from river.

'They call that road on the far side Ascot Way,' she observed. 'The horsey lot must live over there. Tweed, could you park for a moment? I've spotted the path which probably leads to the stone Pit Bull had erected when Lizbeth drowned.'

' If she drowned,' Tweed said as he climbed out, fol lowing Paula along the curving path through lush green grass.

'Why "if"?' Paula called back.

'They found her clothes neatly piled by the river. Despite the fact everyone agrees she was sloppy and untidy in her habits. The discrepancy bothers me.'

'Look at the wording on the stone,' she exclaimed.

'It doesn't add up,' she protested. 'The affection. When you think this is the same man who stormed off the terrace as we were leaving. How abusive he was – not only to us but also to Archie MacBlade.'

'I agree. We still don't know what sort of a man Lord Bullerton really is. As I've told you before, human nature is a fascinating and complex mixture. Now for the Gorge. The river is indeed very high.'

Lepard sat in a chair overlooking the High Street closer to the Gorge. He had chosen the only accom modation available for a two-week stay, a cottage with a notice in the front window. Room Available For short Let.

He would never be recognized now even in the East End. He wore a large grey shaggy wig with a very British wide-brimmed straw hat he never took off. He had explained to his landlady, Mrs Wharton, that he had been ill, that the doctor had warned him never to expose his head to the sun and to protect his hands. He therefore always wore gloves. No fingerprints. He had even gone to the lengths of wearing contact lenses that changed the colour of his eyes. To complete the disguise he now wore large horn-rimmed spectacles with plain ^ glass. With his disguise removed he was confident Mrs -Wharton would never pick him out of a police line up, if it-ever came to that.

On his mobile he told his second-in-command, Ned Marsh, to bring up a bazooka with rockets when he summoned his gang to Gunners Gorge.

He had foreseen that Tweed might summon his key team. In which case it would be a massacre, probably launched by his gang from the top of the Gorge, which he had explored very thoroughly. The window he watched through was masked by dense net cur tains. He could see out but no one could see in. The only disadvantage was he was too far up the High Street to view the Gorge or its summit.

He sat up straight with shock as Tweed's Audi cruised slowly past. If it was Tweed's habit to travel the same route he was a dead man.

'You know,' said Paula as they neared the turn-off leading direct to the summit of the Gorge, 'I don't see how Cromwell's cavalry ever climbed those steps as Bullerton described. Hooves would slither all over them.'

'You've missed something,' he told her. 'Alongside each flight there is a wide grass verge between steps and the beautiful houses. Horses could easily mount as high as they needed to by galloping up the grass.'

'Of course. I missed that,' she admitted.

'Another thing,' he went on. 'Last night before I got into bed I phoned Marler and asked him to come up here today, so he could arrive at any moment.'

'Why Marler?' she wondered.

'Because he is a master strategist. So it's important that he checks the lie of the land, especially in this area.'

Further down the High Street, Lepard was still watching through the net curtains, seated comfortably in his chair behind a table. A few minutes after spot ting Tweed's Audi he saw the next vehicle, a green Saab, driving slowly towards the Gorge. Without pas sengers there was a single driver behind the wheel. Lepard saw no significance in this brief event, assum ing it was one of the locals…

Approaching the turn-off to Aaron's Rock, Paula became aware of a disturbing sound, a muted roar of great power which steadily increased as Tweed drove up a steep dusty track. On either side high granite boulders gave her a feeling of claustrophobia.

They were in the open now. Tweed turned the Audi round for a swift departure. Jumping out of his car he was followed more slowly by Paula. She was staring at a huge cloud of spray and the roar had become deafening.

Determined to keep up with Tweed she ran after and past him, stopping suddenly as she gazed at the awesome spectacle. The river was the kind of surge you see when a massive dam breaks. Her feet and her willpower carried her towards the brink and she stared down.

The immense rush of water, culminating in the huge waterfall dropping a hundred and fifty feet, hyp notized her. She began to feel dizzy as her feet took her two more steps over the wet, slippery surface of the platform of rock projecting over endless space. She thought she heard Tweed shout but the thunder of the waterfall drowned him out.

The next thing she knew he had one strong arm round her waist, the other gripping her arm tightly. He put his mouth close to her ear.

'You idiot! You will now do exactly what I tell you. I want you to slowly back away. Slow steps. This platform is like a skating rink. Do not attempt to turn round. One foot at a time. That is an order!'

She obeyed. She had the strange sensation Tweed had lifted her off her feet. He hadn't. Her right boot slipped as she was moving it back. She was terrified. She was going to slide over the edge. Tweed's arm tightened round her waist until she felt she could hardly breathe, her face running with spray as an exceptional surge of water arrived from higher up the river. Tweed's voice was in her ear again.

'Nearly off the platform,' he said gently. 'Just a few more steps and we're there. Then you can cry all you like…'

Tm not crying,' she shouted, furious. 'It's spray off the waterfall!'

Her burst of indignation seemed to give her new strength. A few more steps and she'd be clear of this hideous platform. Her right ankle sank into the sand at the top of the road. She gave a great sigh of relief.

'You did very well,' a familiar voice drawled. 'Sit down on this armchair.' Marler had spread out a waterproof sheet on a flatstone. 'And have a drink,' he went on as he offered her an uncapped flask.

'Is that alcohol?' she asked cautiously.

'No, you little boozer,' he told her, raising his voice. 'It is water. You go first. And leave a generous portion for Tweed and me.. .'

She thanked him, comfortably seated, began sip ping slowly, feeling much better. Marler, who had foreseen conditions, wore a raincoat, a small camera with a zoom lens slung from his neck.