Выбрать главу

Marler sat at the laid table between Paula and Lavinia. As Lavinia began talking to Marler, Newman leaned over and whispered to Paula. `We've discovered something. Later…'

20

`I'm going for a walk on the front lawn while the sun shines,' Tweed announced, glancing over his shoulder at the end of the meal. He had announced his intention at the beginning of the meal and was repeating the same words. The lunch had lasted a long time with nearly everyone chattering and joking, a hysterical reaction to Bella's recent death. Tweed had noticed Marler was getting on well with Lavinia, with brief laughter from that direction.

The only exception was Paula, who had been studying Warner. His rock-like head had concentrated on eating and he hadn't said a word. He reminded her of something, then she knew what it was.

During a summer holiday while at Medfords she had flown to America. From New York she had continued on to Rapid City in South Dakota. She'd had a spectacular view of the monument, the famous view of the distant giant cliffs where the heads of four Presidents had been carved out of the rock on a massive scale. George Washington, Jefferson, Teddy Roosevelt and the other one she couldn't remember. It was these grim rock faces which Warner reminded her of. He had something on his mind – or was waiting for something. `Excuse me, everyone,' Tweed said standing up, 'I'm going for my walk.'

He had entered the hall when he was aware of someone behind him. Marler, with his golf bag unzipped. `Coming with you,' Marler drawled. 'No argument.'

They descended the steps with Tweed a few paces ahead of his escort. The sun was blazing again; now it was behind the mansion, shining directly on The Forest beyond the closed gates. Tweed was revelling in being outside, feeling the lawn under his feet. He paused to take in the peace of it all.

Behind the brambles on the other side of the road Jacques aimed the scope of his rifle. He had waited hours hoping his target would appear. Now he had Tweed in his cross-hairs. The one thing which bothered him was the sun glaring straight at him. Tweed was standing motionless, hands in the pockets of his country- style jacket. Jacques took a deep breath, prior to squeezing the trigger.

***

`It really is a glorious day,' Tweed enthused. 'Almost makes you forget why we're here…'

Marler, on his right, was looking everywhere, as he so often was. His peripheral vision caught the sun's brief reflection off something beyond the gates. His left arm swept round Tweed's waist, pushed him violently to the lawn, flat on his face as Marler himself sprawled beside him.

The bullet passed over Tweed's prone body, making a sharp deadly crack. `Don't move,' Marler snapped. 'Stay down.'

In seconds he had hauled out his Armalite, the scope attached. He knew where the marksman was. He'd not only seen the sun flash off the killer's scope, he'd seen the muzzle flash.

He aimed swiftly through the upright bars of the gate and beyond at the brambles. He waited a few seconds, then he fired again at the same area. He jumped up, dashed forward with the speed of an antelope, calling back over his shoulder to Tweed, 'Run for the manor… zigzag as you run… get the gates opened!'

Briefly, Jacques was in a state of shock. The first bullet had passed within an inch of his head. The second bullet had scorched the tip of his hair at the side of his head. And now, from one of the photographs taken of the SIS team emerging from Park Crescent, he recognized the shooter. Oh God! Marler. `Get the hell out of here,' he mumbled.

He was already crashing through the brambles, ignoring the scratches to his face. As he came out into open country he jumped on his motorcycle. It started first time. He headed over the smooth slope rising to a crest. Glancing back, he was appalled to see the gates opening. He swore, increased speed to maximum.

Tearing across the road, Marler charged into the undergrowth as fast as he could. Emerging into open country, he saw the motorcyclist speeding up a rise and shouldered his weapon. He had already reloaded. In the crosshairs he saw the back of the fleeing killer. He had his finger on the trigger when he saw the view through the scope was blank. His target had dropped down the slope beyond the crest.

Marler leaned against the trunk of a huge tree, laughed. 'Next time will be your last time,' he said.

Shortly before, Tweed and Paula had rushed up the steps and inside the hall. Lavinia was standing there. `Open the gates quickly,' Tweed called out.

Lavinia wasted no time asking why. She used her index finger to press a button concealed in the panelling. Tweed turned round. In the distance through the open door he saw the gates opening, Marler near them. `Fun and games?' Lavinia enquired with a wry smile. `An exercise,' Tweed replied. 'We needed the exercise. Now I need to see Newman urgently.' `He's gone to Snape's cottage in the woods. I'd better lead you there.'

They walked along a corridor and entered the kitchen. Mrs Grandy had just shut the cooker. She glared at them. `I see the back door is open,' Lavinia told her. 'It needs to be kept closed and locked at-' `Oh, does it?' Mrs Grandy folded her arms. 'I often have to take rubbish to the bin outside. You expect me-' `Just so long as you're always in the kitchen.'

They were outside before the cook could answer. To their left at the back of the manor was a hard tennis court. Marshal, looking bad-tempered, had obviously just finished a game with Crystal, who was twirling round, her racquet on top of her red hair. `I won,' she called out. `No you didn't,' Marshal snapped. 'You cheated!' `I never cheat and you know it. You just can't stand to lose at anything. Gambling, debating, you've always got to come out tops.' `I'll come with you,' Marshal said to Paula and Lavinia. 'Anything to get away from that witch.'

Paula was glad Lavinia was leading the way. At intervals other paths curved off through the dark woods. On the ground were piles of pine needles at least ankle-deep. It occurred to Paula you'd never hear anyone coming Even Marshal, hammering down in his tennis shoes, made no sound.

Turning a corner, Paula saw Snape's cabin, a well-built two-storey structure made of heavy wooden beams. Newman stood in the doorway. Paula sensed someone was behind her. It was Marler. `Where did you spring from?' she asked. `I'm the ghost who haunts the woods, especially after dark.' `Don't,' Paula snapped. 'I find these woods creepy.' `That's what I do,' Marler continued, 'I creep around the woods after dark, prowling like a wolf.' `Stop it!' She slapped his face gently. 'You conjure up visions I could do without.' `I'm really sorry,' he replied quickly, squeezing her arm. `It was just a joke – and in very bad taste. All right now?' `Of course.' She kissed him quickly where she had slapped him. 'It's my fault. For some reason I'm edgy, as though something was going to happen.' `Am I interrupting a lovers' tryst?' asked Marshal, who appeared out of nowhere. He was leering suggestively. 'Might be best if you both took that path, leads deep into the woods.' `If you think that's amusing it damned well isn't,' Marler told him harshly, standing in front of Paula, close to Marshal. 'Why not go into the village, buy yourself a clean mouth.' `Hey!' called Newman from the cabin door. 'Come inside here. You, too, Marler.'

Paula walked briskly to the open door. Newman ushered her in with a smile. She'd expected a crude or primitive interior. Instead the room she entered was carpeted wall-to-wall with a grey carpet and the furniture was comfortable, several spotlessly clean armchairs and a highly polished dining table. Along part of one wall was a cupboard with double doors faced with small glass windows. Behind the glass was an array of rifles and shotguns.