At the bottom of the stairs Tweed and Paula met Sergeant Warden. He gestured to them to follow him onto the terrace. `Thought I should tell you, sir, that soon after the two of you entered Leo's room I saw someone was listening outside the door. Looked as though they might have been there for some time.' `Man or woman?' asked Tweed. `Difficult to be sure. I think it was a man. I only saw a shadow. Then Chief Inspector called to me to help with the search. I'd been leaning over the banister on the upper floor. Not a good viewing point.' `Who do you think it could have been?' Paula asked when Warden had left them, disappearing into the library. `I haven't a clue. Place is crawling with people.'
They were nearly knocked down by Snape at the exit as he came rushing in from the terrace. He looked nervous as he apologized. `So sorry. So much work to do and I'm behind schedule. I don't want Mr Marshal on my back.' He spoke over his shoulder as he hurried to the staircase.
They walked quickly down the steps and jumped into Newman's parked Mercedes. Their Audi was presumably round at the back of the house. Tweed inserted the key into the ignition – he had been handed it before Newman set off to explore the walls with Marler. He tightened his grip to turn the key.
16
Calouste had driven only a few miles down the road to the West Country when he pulled into a lay-by. Jacques stared at him. `Something wrong?' `Think like the enemy.' `I don't understand.' `You wouldn't,' Calouste sneered and turned to look at Jacques. This was something Jacques always disliked, was nervous about. Two large dark lenses gazed at him, eyeless. 'I have just changed my mind.' `So what do we do now?' Jacques asked, mystified. `If Tweed with his team, whom I've been informed left the manor, heading for Gladworth, has located Heather Cottage, he'll find no one there. So, his logical decision is to return to Hengistbury.'
What if he does?' `You have used explosives. What did you put in the boot of this car?' `A carrier of food and a flask of coffee. The bomb is in the leather hold-all I put on the floor behind us.' `What!' Calouste screamed. We have been driving with a bomb barely a foot from us?You are stark raving mad!' `Calm down,' Jacques replied. 'The bomb is not active. You could drive over a large ramp and nothing would happen. So put away that knife before I get annoyed.'
In his fury Calouste had produced a stiletto with a needle-like blade. It disappeared and Calouste was again in a good humour. He patted Jacques's substantial knee. `Tell me, please, is this the kind of bomb you attach to a car?' `It's exactly that.' `I'm driving back to that roundabout which has many escape routes. You take the bomb with you. Tweed likes travelling in the Mercedes. You walk from the roundabout to Heather Cottage. Check to see if there are signs Tweed has been there. Pierre will have hidden, knowing him. Look at the map. See if the countryside opposite the cottage is level enough for you to borrow Pierre's motorcycle to take you across the fields to Hengistbury. I think you may find the Mercedes parked in front of the manor. Attach the bomb to it. You may have trouble crossing open ground.' `No trouble. I have some overalls I'll wear. People at this time of day are rarely peering out of windows. So, if they are, they'll see a man like a mechanic in overalls. A mechanic.'
He was getting out of the car when they'd reached the roundabout. Calouste called out to him. `How are you going to get over that high wall with-' `You do your job, I'll do my friggin' job. You talk too much.'
Jacques was the only member of Calouste's large team of henchmen who, when provoked, would tell his boss to go to hell.
Jacques had approached Heather Cottage cautiously. He chose the same route Marler had taken earlier, moving behind the side hedge. There were no cars in the road. He found Pierre's body, concealed under the hedge. He was not sorry: in his opinion Pierre had been useless. But he was relieved when he saw Pierre's motorcycle still leaning against the wall.
He wasted no time. The leather hold-all containing the bomb, several wires to be fixed later, a long piece of rope with a hook at one end, were all carefully added to the pannier with the bomb. Finally a neatly folded white coat. He started the machine, headed across the road through a gap in the hedge.
The ground was perfect, rolling green hills covered with fresh grass. From the crest of an unusually high slope he saw the tops of the manor's Elizabethan chimneys, just in view over the 'barricade' of The Forest. He headed for them.
Leaving the motorcycle concealed in undergrowth, he pushed his way along the track where Harry Butler had waited for a signal from Tweed's lighter. Emerging, hold-all slung over his shoulder, he checked the windows of the manor with a compact pair of binoculars. No sign of anyone.
Carrying the long coil of rope, he walked quickly to where The Forest surrounding the manor masked him. Putting on his white coat, he slung the rope to the top of the wall. Its hook anchored in no time. Climbing the rope he took out a pair of clippers, cut a hole in the barbed wire.
Perched on top of the wall, he hauled up the rope, reversed the hook, dropped the rope down the inner side. He'd get out the same way he'd come in. Descending the rope, he walked confidently across the open space to the foot of the terrace. He was pleased earlier to have seen the empty Mercedes parked below the terrace.
A tarmacadam drive would have helped. On the side of the car facing away from the terrace he dropped to the drive coated with pebbles. His legs sprawled widely behind him as he eased under the car. The wires had already been attached. He heard the magnetic pad click as they clamped to the car. He turned a switch. The bomb was active. As soon as the ignition was turned on, the car and occupants would be blown to smithereens.
He had trouble easing his back from under the car, scattering a wide area of pebbles. He returned the way he had come. Settling himself in undergrowth in the track he waited. Jacques liked to see the results of his careful work.
Tweed and Paula walked down the steps, jumped into Newman's parked Mercedes. `Stop! Don't start that car, for God's sake! Get out of the bloody thing now!'
Harry Butler's warning shout came loud and clear through Paula's open window. She stared at Tweed. `Do exactly as Harry says,' Tweed ordered her. `Should we take the key out of the ignition?' `No! Touch nothing. Just get the hell out of the car.' They met Harry, who had run down the steps carry- ing his tool bag. Paula, confused, asked, 'Why? What's wrong?' `That's wrong.'
Harry pointed to the considerable disturbance of the pebbles on the far side of the car. She could almost imagine the shape of a man in the way they were scattered. `Someone's been under the Merc,' Harry said. 'I noticed the pebbles all over the place from a first-floor window, saw you both about to get into the car, grabbed my bag and tore down the stairs…' He paused, breathless.
What now?' Tweed asked. `You both go inside, to the very back of the hall. You stop anyone coming out onto the terrace while I check under the car. You don't come out until I've come back in. Something is terribly wrong. Go on into the house and stay there.' `Be careful, Harry,' Paula said as they started up the steps. `Careful is my second name,' he told her with a grin.