Colin Forbes - Precipice

'I could do with a vodka.' she admitted. 'We should carry a bottle in the car.'

'Then we're stopped by a young eager beaver policeman, he sees the bottle, and we waste time while I'm breathalysed.'

'You don't drink and drive.' she nagged on.

'They don't know that until they've tested me.'

'I haven't seen one policeman in the Purbecks.' She leaned forward to emphasize what she was saying. 'And I drove all over these sodden hills with Philip Cardon.'

'Have a good time with him?' Brazil enquired.

'So-so. He's just another man. Keep your eyes open.' she said suddenly. 'The light's changed.'

Brazil was wondering how she had charmed all those bankers as he drove on. The threatening storm clouds had passed over without dropping any rain. Again it was brilliant sunshine. Brazil thought the Purbecks had a quiet beauty all their own. He had been wise to buy Grenville Grange. He came up to another traffic light, which turned amber, then red. He braked.

'You could have got through the amber if you'd rammed your foot down,' Eve ranted on. 'Why not hand over the wheel to me? Then we might get there.'

'I prefer to get there alive.' he said with an edge to his voice.

'I'll have you know I'm a damned good driver.' she replied, leaning forward again.

'Good for you.'

She lit a fresh cigarette, leaving her previous stub in the ashtray, still smoking. Brazil glanced back, told her to put it out properly. She stabbed viciously with a lipstick holder she took from her shoulder bag. In her impatience she almost pulled out the canister of Mace gas.

Sitting back, she went on smoking, tipped ash on the edge of the tray so it fell onto the previously flawlessly clean floor. Someone else can clean that up, she said to herself. The light changed to green.

'Don't miss this one.' she hissed.

He waited until he'd passed the roadworks before he stopped the car. He turned round and looked at her, his voice cold.

'If you don't shut up I'll have to consider terminating your contract.'

'Go ahead. See if I care.'

He drove on, reached the beginning of Corfe, drove through the old village, turned up the steep hill to Kingston. On the way up he couldn't avoid a large watersplash. Water cascaded up, covering the windscreen briefly, running down the windows on Eve's side of the car. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. She was grinning wickedly.

'Drive up the middle of the road and you can avoid that happening,' she said, assuming a bored tone.

'With a blind bend ahead of me and maybe another vehicle speeding down?'

'There's very little traffic on this road. I remember when I was driving with Philip. He, at least, dodged all the watersplashes,' she goaded.

'Good for him.'

A heavy silence descended inside the limo as he drove through Kingston, then later approached the drive leading to Grenville Grange. Even in the sunshine the old pile had a forbidding look. As they slowly came closer Eve leaned forward.

'I don't see any lights. And all the shutters are closed. I thought you said you'd arranged for staff to have the place ready for us.'

'Maybe they got the date wrong.'

'In that case, let's have dinner together at the Priory in Wareham.' Her tone was suddenly pleasant, coaxing. 'The food there is very good, very good indeed.'

'And the bar isn't bad either, I assume?'

'You know they have a good bar. You told me you'd had dinner there several times. Let's turn round and head straight for the Priory.'

'We'll check the situation here first.'

'Bet there's no one at home.'

'We'll find out, won't we?'

The power cruiser had left St Alban's Head behind, was several miles out to sea from the coast, when Philip spotted the steep-sided ridge which was Lyman's Tout. Through his powerful field glasses Tweed could see something Philip, concentrating on steering the cruiser, couldn't.

Perched like a gigantic guardhouse at the summit of the slope running down away from it, was Grenville Grange. Paula was also using her glasses to scan the mansion. She dropped her glasses, looped round her neck like Tweed's.

'That's funny, I can't see any lights. The place looks closed for the season.'

'It's rather early for lights,' Tweed mused.

'From what I can see it's the sort of place where they need the lights on all the time. Even the shutters appear closed.'

'Wait till we get nearer.'

Philip was having to exert all his efforts to control the cruiser. A powerful current was running athwart the direction towards the cliffs he wanted to take. He felt confident that he could guide the cruiser to the old jetty he had seen, but he was bothered by the power of the current. Unless the jetty was protected by a nearby cape it could be a tricky business bringing the boat alongside the jetty so they could disembark.

Like a good skipper, he kept his worries to himself. Newman appeared, holding his field glasses.

'I've spotted the jetty you're aiming for. Luckily there's a huge rock projecting out just to the west of it. The sea looks reasonably quiet there.'

'We'll make it,' Philip said and concentrated on steering.

'The headlights of a car, a limo, have appeared,' Paula said as she stared again through her glasses. 'It's coming round the side of the house very slowly. Can't yet see who is driving – or who else, if anyone, is inside. Can we speed up a bit? Or shouldn't I make suggestions like that?'

'The lady can have extra speed.' Philip assured her. 'Just a little more. Here goes…'

'They haven't even opened the gates.' Eve exploded as they arrived at the entrance to Grenville Grange.

Brazil didn't reply. Taking out his computer card-key, he leaned over to the box attached to a pillar, inserted the card, withdrew it. The electronically operated gates swung slowly open.

'That must mean the blasted servants aren't here.' she snapped.

'Not necessarily. They may have closed the gates after going inside as a security precaution. The shutters at the front are often kept closed, if you remember.'

'Looks like a morgue to me.'

'We'll take a look round the back. They may be preparing a meal.'

'Why no guards, then?'

'Oh, that's simple. I had every guard despatched to Europe. We'll have to hire some more.'

As he answered her Brazil was driving slowly up the drive. Coming to where the drive forked, he took the left-hand track, drove on round the side of the mansion. The sea came into view and the wind hit the car. Leaning forward, Brazil continued on to the end of the track where it petered out and the slope towards the cliff edge began. Here, because the ground was so arid, embedded with rocks, the surface was hard. He stopped the limo.

'What the hell have we come this way for?' Eve demanded.

'You see that large power cruiser out at sea? It's coming this way – and there's an old jetty with a footpath leading up from it on the other side of Lyman's Tout. We need to find out who is on board.' He reached down by his side, grasped a pair of binoculars, handed them to her over his shoulder. 'Take these, go to the edge of the cliff so you are closer, check if you recognize anyone.'

'These aren't the high-powered pair.'

"They'll do. I've lost the others.' he lied.

'Oh, all right. I suppose I have to work even to get that dinner at the Priory. There's no one in the house…'

Brazil sat in the limo perched at the top of the slope as she walked away, her trench coat flapping round her like a cloak. The words of the cassette Gustav had played back to him were echoing in his mind. She would have sold him out to Newman for a hundred thousand. And he didn't for a moment believe that Gustav had decided on his own to try and kill Tweed. Someone had put the idea into his head – had probably relayed a fictitious order from himself. He knew who that someone had to be.