Colin Forbes - The Savage Gorge

Marler threw the dropped knife into the gulch and, after a quick look, the satchel with neatly arranged pockets for different knives.

Next he gazed through the telescope, which had a nightsight. He found he was staring into the shallow cave at level one on the other side of the Falls.

'Thought so,' he said to himself.

Heaving up the whole apparatus, he flung it into the gulch. In doing so, one of the tripod legs caught briefly in a drystone wall perched on the opposite edge. Several large stones broke loose and fell into the gulch. Which gave him another idea.

He walked round the top of the gulch, sat down on the far side, placed his boots against the wall. He took a deep breath, heaved against it with all his strength.

The whole wall collapsed into the gulch. It nearly took him with it. Marler grabbed a gorse bush, which saved him. Easing himself back from the drop, he stood up, walked back round the end, peered down. The dawn light was stronger.

All he could see was a jumbled pile of rocks. No sign of the body, no sign of the telescope, no sign of anything. He clapped both hands lightly, then scampered back down the route he had ascended, slipped behind the wheel.

'What happened?' Tweed asked.

'I ’ d underestimated Lepard's caution. He placed a chap with a large telescope up there, aimed at the caves. Purpose – to make sure we hadn't discovered them and had people checking them out. A nasty piece of work monitoring the telescope. Chap called Pearl Kerwald.'

'Pearl is a girl's name,' Paula said.

'A nickname. His technique was to patrol Bond Street, Mayfair, areas like that. He'd see a well- dressed woman with a string of pearls round her neck, grab her from behind, use a sharp knife to cut the rope near the clasp. There were cases when his knife slipped and he'd cut her throat. He'd throw her over the bonnet of a parked car, yell, "Heart attack!" and disappear.'

'Where is he now?' Paula pressed.

'Somewhere inside that small mountain. They said twelve thugs coming up. One down, eleven to go…'

'You've tactfully left out the one I had to strangle,' she told him, squeezing his shoulder.

'OK,' he agreed as he pulled out into the street and headed north. 'If you insist, two down and ten to go…'

Paula could now hear the muted rumble and roar as thousands of gallons of water poured down over the Falls. A good mile further north they passed the old iron road bridge linking Ascot Row with the High Street.

Paula was staring to her right at the scenic beauty. Vast fields of grass spread out as far as the eye could see. The endless green she found soothing with the silence of the open country. Ahead was a huge six-exit roundabout.

Signposts indicated routes to towns Tweed knew were a long way north. The fifth exit, as Marler circled the roundabout, pointed to London.

'That's their escape route,' he remarked. 'Ours too if it all goes wrong.'

'Be confident,' Paula said sharply.

'A good planner,' Tweed explained to her, 'always has his escape route worked out.'

They drove slowly back towards the hotel through still deserted streets. The air remained very crisp. As they approached a sign with the word Marcantonio's, Archie MacBlade ran down the steps, waved for them to stop.

'I've booked a table upstairs at the Gold Bowl for all of you. Breakfast awaits…'

'We had it earlier,' Paula protested.

'Sure you're not hungry again?' Archie said with a warm smile.

Paula suddenly realized she was ravenous. It must be the air, which had a nip of cold in it. Archie guided Marler up a narrow street to a car park at the back. They returned to the front. He led them up a flight of steps and inside.

'I could eat a horse,' said Harry.

'Not on the menu,' Archie chaffed him. 'You'll wish there was somewhere like this in London. Locals come, eat breakfast and then go back home and sleep ready for the day's riding. They were here finishing breakfast when you drove past earlier. Come on…'

They entered a tastefully furnished hall and, led by Archie, stepped inside a spacious elevator. The panel had three buttons. Archie produced a black card, inserted it into a slot, then pressed the top button.

'Can't get to the Golden Bowl without inserting the card,' he explained.

A small man in evening clothes with a long thin moustache was waiting for them. He bowed.

'Welcome, Mr MacBlade – and your friends.'

He showed them into a large circular restaurant. Paula looked up. The ceiling was a golden bowl. Archie spoke as they sat at a large circular table.

'This is Marco, the owner. The beautiful woman with him is his sister, Benita.'

'I supervise the kitchen,' she said, looking with a warm smile at Paula. 'Your orders, please. Anything.'

'Could I have two fried eggs, crispy bacon and fried potatoes?'

'Of course, ma'mselle.'

Harry ordered three fried eggs with all the trim mings, and so it went on. Marco returned with a silver bucket, tripod and a bottle of expensive champagne. Paula stared.

'It is a champagne breakfast,' Archie said. 'The feast is on me.'

Marco used a towel to wipe the bottle dry, removed the metal covering then the cork, sniffed it. Tweed was leaning forward, gazing.

'What's fascinating you?' Paula asked.

'His skill.'

Service of the first-class food was swift. Paula plunged her knife and fork into a fried egg, cleaned her plate at the same moment as the others. She had sipped her champagne and then drunk the whole glass.

Greetings were exchanged with Marco and his sister. Paula was leaving when Benita gently tucked a black card inside the top pocket of her leather jacket.

'Welcome at any time,' she whispered in her soft voice.

Archie remained and they returned to the car. As they were leaving, Paula and Tweed were now in the back, and she nudged him.

Tm going back to sleep.'

'So am I,' he said. He paused. 'That is the most important breakfast I've ever had,' he stated.

'Important?'

'Important.'

Paula couldn't get to sleep. She changed position, tossed and turned. No good. She shouldn't have drunk that whole glass of champagne. She gave up trying to sleep.

Jumping out of bed, she dressed again. Checking the time, she went quietly into the garage. 9.45 a.m. Marler waved to her. She joined him.

Tweed was behind the wheel of the Audi, about to depart. He lowered the window, called out to her.

'Couldn't sleep? Go back, have another shower.'

The Audi crawled out of the garage, proceeded slowly up the High Street. Paula clenched her fists inside the pockets of her tunic. Marler, sensing her tension, put an arm round her waist.

In the far distance, way north of the bridge, she saw a brief brilliant lightning flash. Everywhere the sky was a molten menacing grey.

'I do wish I was with him,' she said. 'Could it be today?'

'Definitely not. The thugs have not taken up position in those caves. I'm just hoping that triple storm holds off until we've done the job. Forecast says it will arrive in the late morning. As to Tweed, he has to keep up what they think is his daily routine.'

From the Audi, Tweed was observing housekeepers entering the general store and other shops. The air had turned heavy, sultry. A prelude to the expected rage of the gathering storm.

Behind his net curtain, Lepard watched as Tweed passed his window at twenty-five miles an hour. He squeezed his clawlike hands together, his face twisted in a sadistic smile.

'Enjoy your last day on earth, Mr Tweed,' he said aloud.

When Tweed returned to the garage he found Paula still standing by Marler's side. He frowned as he alighted.

'Paula, I told you to get back to bed.'

'I'm going now. Wanted to see you safely back.'