Paula recalled this as she saw Tweed catching up with Harry who was now moving fast. She didn't like the atmosphere as they continued along the snaking path. The mist made it difficult to see what was a tree or a man.
They had covered a long distance when Harry stopped, held up a hand. `We're very close to the huge chalk pit. The Forest stops suddenly and there's a clear ground, an open slope to the edge of the pit.' `It isn't just huge,' Marler drawled. 'I've seen it. More like an amphitheatre. There's a small hilltop over to the right. The perfect lookout point. I suggest we get up there first.'
Harry led the way up to the hilltop followed by the others. Tweed ignored the advice. He paused to glance round. Over to his left a remote stand of giant firs extended towards the edge, creating large black shadows. One especially dark shadow he assumed was a large boulder. Walther in his right hand, he began to descend the slope alone.
An amphitheatre? Marler had been right. The pit was vast and deep. On the far side were the remnants of a rusty crane. It had, years ago, obviously been used to haul up chalk and drop it into waiting trucks.
There was a sinister silence over the whole abandoned area. Tweed continued walking down the slope. He waited to check the interior of the pit. There could be men with rifles waiting down there. His boots crunched on chalk as he reached the edge, peered over. Lord, it was over a hundred feet down. At the base to his right and left were immense piles of powdered chalk. He heard something to his right.
On the hilltop Marler had restrained Paula from calling out. He had simply placed a hand over her mouth. `Do not distract him,' he warned. `But Harry has just said the cliff is unstable,' she whispered furiously from behind the hand.
At the edge, Tweed stared at the black shape he'd assumed was a boulder. Something large – a black cloak – was thrown to one side and a man with a face of crinkled skin was on him, a large wide-bladed knife in one hand, raised to strike. It happened very quickly. Calouste himself.
Tweed dropped his Walther. Calouste was too close to use it. His right hand whipped up, grasped his opponent's knife hand, slid instantly higher to the forearm, pressing a certain nerve. They were struggling on the edge of eternity, swaying back and forth. The brutal knife was still in the hand of the killer. Tweed was surprised at the killer's strength.
His left hand darted upward, two stiffened fingers extended, aimed at his opponent's eyes. His right hand tightened its grip on the nerve. His opponent grunted with pain and his fingers clasping the knife loosened their grip. He jerked his head back away from Tweed's pointed fingers.
Tweed jabbed them savagely forward, still aimed at the eyes. Both men were arched backwards over the precipitous drop. Tweed forced himself back. His opponent came with him. Tweed's right hand dug deeper into the nerve. The knife fell from the hand, slithered down into the chalk pit. Loss of his weapon seemed to take the strength out of the killer.
On the hilltop Paula suddenly started running down the slope in a desperate effort to save Tweed. No one had been able to shoot. The bodies of the two men struggling were too close together.
Marler took off, his long legs taking giant strides. Reaching Paula, he fell on her, pinning her to the ground. She yelled at Marler, `Bastard!' `You'll distract Tweed if he has to worry about saving you,' Marler told her.
Tweed raised one leg, scraped his boot down the killer's shin. A grunt of pain. Tweed's boot continued down the shin. He put all his force into crushing the killer's foot. A scream of agonizing pain. The killer's arms gripping Tweed's body released him. At that moment Tweed's left hand clawed at the killer's face, felt softness. The leather mask he had been wearing came away in Tweed's hand, exposing the face of a younger man.
The killer's back was now facing the edge. Tweed used both hands to shove hard against his chest. The killer's body sailed over the brink, legs twirling as he sank down and down. Tweed watched as the body reached the bottom, falling on a rock. The body, legs splayed, lay very still. He heard Harry shouting, both hands cupped round his mouth. `Get well back now! The cliff's unstable!'
Tweed turned round, took a mighty leap, his legs trembling as he landed on hard rock. Behind him he heard a rumbling sound. He glanced back. At least a foot of where he had been standing had disappeared. There was a deep thud from the base as tons of cliffs reached the bottom, engulfing the body of the killer forever.
Marler had released Paula. He was trying to help her up, but she brushed aside his helping hands. Instead she used her own to wipe remnants of chalk off her clothes. `Who the devil was that?' Tweed asked, still holding the pliable mask in his hands. 'I thought it was Professor Heathstone we met at Pike's Peak Hotel.' `Look at it,' said Harry.
A white cloud of powdered chalk was rising above the brink, the result of the enormous fall of the chalk cliff. Tweed nodded, his manner fresh and brisk. `Our next job is to kill the real Calouste. I'm sure he's still hidden away at Shooter's Lodge, awaiting the good news that I'm dead.'
31
Tweed was walking up the main drive to the manor with Paula and Marler. It had been his decision to return by this route. He'd wanted to conceal from the inhabitants the fact that he had left by the arched gate and visited the chalk pit. `I've changed my mind,' he told them as they mounted the steps. 'We'll let Calouste stew a few hours. Harry is going to Shooter's Lodge to keep an eye on developments.'
He had just spoken when they heard Harry, who had run ahead of them start up his motorcycle behind the manor. He appeared on his machine, sped down the drive. Glancing back,Tweed saw the gates swinging open again. It did not surprise him when Lavinia opened the door. Her reactions were impressive. She had opened the gates for him before he'd used the speaker-phone. The gates had closed automatically once they were inside. Now she'd immediately reopened them to let Harry out. `Harry's off to Gladworth to fetch some things,' he told her. `Welcome back,' she greeted him with a smile. 'And the sun has come out again. That's for your benefit.' `You got here to open the gates twice,' he remarked. `Where is Snape?' `The idiot saw you coming, said he'd got something cooking on his stove and rushed off to the cabin.' `Lavinia, excuse me, I've got to attend to something.'
Tweed tore off out of the hall, down a corridor, followed by a puzzled Paula and Marler. He was rushing through the kitchen when Mrs Grandy glowered at them. `If you want a late lunch you'll have to ask me nicely.' `Yes, please,' Tweed replied over his shoulder. `Ravenous.'
He dived through the open back door and hurtled along the path leading to the cabin. Both Paula and Marler had trouble keeping up with him. He slowed his pace, held up a hand to warn his companions. He crept up to the cabin door.
Paula peered over his shoulder. Snape was standing by the table with his back to them. He had a mobile phone pressed to his ear. They could hear every word. `Capricorn reporting. Tweed is alive. `Yes, you heard me correctly. I've just seen him `I promise you I have, sir. `No, no, sir. It was only a few minutes ago. I thought you said he'd be dead this morning… `No, sir, I can't help that. No, he wasn't wounded. He was walking briskly. Even hurrying. Hello? Hello? Are you still there? Damn him, he always does that.'
Snape slipped his mobile into a side pocket, turned round. His expression of surprise and horror when he saw Tweed was quite a picture. `Don't worry. We heard every word. How is Calouste?'