Authors: Colin Forbes
'You really are a clever old thing.' He gave a ghastly
smile.
Lance had been drinking when they arrived. From
the odour drifting across the table Paula thought it
was gin. The strange glass he had been using was
more like a tankard with a very thick base. He now
used it to emphasize what he was saying, hammering
it on the table.
'I am a good organizer.' He slid his hand inside his
jacket and they expected the silver cigarette case to
appear again. Instead, his hand reappeared holding a Walther, which he aimed point-blank at Paula.
'I
...
am
...
a
...
good . . . organizer,' he began,
hammering down the glass.
Paula heard the faint sound of tinkling glass. She looked at the base of the tankard. It was intact.
'Everything is prepared,' he continued, no longer
punctuating his words with the glass. 'I expected you to come. I have left a long wide gardener's barrow at
the end of the terrace. I'll lay your bodies alongside
each other. I have the strength to push its well-oiled
wheels up to Black Gorse Moor. There the bodies will
be tipped into one of the deep tunnels, then covered
with rocks and pebbles.
'Don't make a move, Mr Tweed,' he warned.
'Otherwise the first bullet will ruin Miss Grey's head.
Then I shall have ample time to shoot you . . .'
The explosive bullet removed his whole jaw.
Synchronized, two rifle bullets hit him in the chest. Tweed never forgot the macabre scene. In slumping
down across the chessboard, Lance's right hand fell
on the bisected waist of the Queen.
Paula jerked her head towards the closed red velvet curtains. Window panes smashed. Harry reached in to
turn the handle, rifle tucked under his arm, entering
the library followed by Marler gripping the Armalite
which had fired the explosive bullet.
'I thought it best to take precautions,' Tweed
remarked.
'You might have told me,' she protested.
'Then you might not have acted naturally.'
Police sirens howled in the distance. Coming closer
to the town from the south.
'That's reinforcements to wipe all the blood from
the caves,' Marler said. 'An advance unit arrived earlier. Buchanan is coming himself.'
'I can see him in London,' Tweed said, taking Paula
by the arm. 'We'll have a quick snack dinner at the
hotel. Set your alarm clock for 6 a.m. I want to be
back before dusk.'
Epilogue
The following evening they were about to turn into
Park Crescent. It was a brilliant sunny end to a day
when the weather had been perfect all the way south. Paula was gazing at everything.
'You know,' she said to Tweed, 'it's a wonderful
experience to
visit
the countryside. All those vast areas
of greenery and forests. I would one day like to go
back but I'm so glad to get home.'
'I agree,' responded Tweed. 'It's familiar surround
ings so you feel at home here. Despite the rush and
the bustle. All the variety of a great city.'
He turned into Park Crescent, stopped the Audi
close to the kerb below the entrance to their head
quarters. She was looking at him.
'What is it?' he asked.
'You are about to court-martial me for direct disobedience, for jumping into the back of this car just
before all the fireworks up at Gunners Gorge. Am I
right?'
'Yes, you are. I'm about to pronounce sentence.'
'Which is?' she enquired, nervously plucking at her
skirt.
'A long leisurely evening, with dinner at the Ritz.'