'You're right. Incidentally, I was studying Jennie Blade. At the manor when we first saw her I guessed her age at twenty-eight. Now I think she's in her mid-thirties – and very experienced. She intrigues me, does our Jennie. Maybe I'd better get back to the bar or they'll think me rude.'
Paula pointed to the coastal path to the cove where the ferry left for Rock at low tide, then they turned back. Just in time to see Gaunt trooping out of the bar, leading the procession with Newman and Cardon behind him and Jennie bringing up the rear.
'Typical,' Paula said. 'Gaunt treats her like a lapdog. Thank Heaven she can bite back.'
Even as she spoke Jennie, taking long strides, caught up with Gaunt, chattered away to him and then pointed towards Tweed and Paula. She waved and Paula returned the wave as the party approached them.
'You know what you ought to do now, Tweed,' Gaunt boomed out across the car park. 'Take the ferry to Rock.
From over there you get the most terrific view of Padstow – and if you enjoy climbing that's the place for you.'
'We'll consider it,' Tweed replied.
'What do you think of the rowboat?' Jennie asked gleefully, pointing to the Mayflower III.
'Rowboat?' Gaunt roared. 'That's one of the most powerful cabin cruisers in the world.
'He's sensitive about his toy,' Jennie told Paula.
'All aboard that's comin' aboard,' Gaunt bellowed.
He shinned down a short ladder attached to the harbour wall, jumped on to the deck, spread both arms wide.
Isn't she a beauty? I keep her in perfect trim.'
'Like hell you do!' Jennie burst out. She gestured to the brass rails gleaming in the sun like gold. 'I've spent days cleaning up this old tub.'
'I think the ferry is a good idea,' Tweed said.
Anything to avoid getting trapped aboard the Mayflower. Lord knew where Gaunt would decide to sail them to once the tide returned – maybe down the estuary and way out into the Atlantic.
'Have to take the coastal path to the cove, then,' Gaunt shouted. 'Now it's low tide. Have a good trip…'
As Tweed approached the steps leading to the path with Newman and Paula he saw Butler and Nield appear out of nowhere. They had accompanied Tweed from the Metro-pole and had then melted away when he was joined by Paula.
The group of six was climbing the steep path beyond the steps when Paula noticed Cardon was still holding the canvas bag looped over his shoulder from a strap. He had held it close to his side all the time they had spent in the bar at the Old Custom House.
'Philip, what goodies have you got inside that bag?' she asked, walking alongside him.
'This and that. Might come in handy. You never know. Remembering what's already happened in peaceful Cornwall. The body count is now ten. Eight at the manor. Celia Yeo. And last night Tweed told me about Buchanan's call to him yesterday. So the real postman was found with his throat cut near Five Lanes. A very hospitable part of the world, Corn wall.'
Ten, Paula thought grimly. Ten bodies now – including poor Celia Yeo lying at the foot of High Tor. She must tell Tweed about their 'outing' as soon as she had him on his own.
In the brilliant sunshine they went on climbing out of sight of the town at the bottom of a green slope to their left. The sea to their right was masked by a thick hedge lower down. Paula kept thinking of the estuary as 'the sea' – it didn't seem like a river.
A signpost bearing the legend TO FERRY pointed to a side path descending the side of the hill. The path led to a flight of wide stone steps dropping steeply to a small cove surrounded with abyss-like rock walls. Not realizing it was the clear air, Tweed estimated it was only a two-minute crossing to Rock.
At the bottom of the steps they found themselves inside a tiny cove, hemmed in from the world by sheer granite walls. Paula glanced back as she picked her way to the water's edge over a scatter of ankle-breaking rocks. Under the cliffs at their base were dark deep caves disappearing into black gloom inside their granite alcoves. She didn't like this cove. She found the atmosphere eerie and they were the only people waiting for the approaching ferry.
Tweed raised his binoculars to his eyes, focusing on a tall thin old house halfway up the slope on the Rock shore. There was a series of flashes originating from an upper window.
'Someone across there is sending a signal,' he said grimly.
'It's just the sunlight reflecting off some glass,' Newman said.
'It was a brief Morse code signal with a lamp,' Tweed insisted. 'A series of long and short flashes. I'll tell you why I know later…'
The ferry had arrived. Paula wondered how on earth they were expected to board it. The ferry was a small craft capable of carrying only a dozen passengers. The wheel-house was a box-like structure close to the prow – hardly more than twice the size of the phone box Tweed had used outside the Old Custom House. There were only two elderly passengers coming over from Rock.
The boat aimed for the shore prow-first. One of the two tough-looking crew jumped ashore, hauled a plank out of the ferry, balanced it to provide a dry crossing platform to the shore. As the two passengers walked separately and gingerly along the plank the man ashore held one of their hands.
Tweed was the first to board the small vessel. Ignoring the extended helping hand, he climbed the plank nimbly, stepped into the craft. Passengers sat in the open on wooden plank seats with their backs to the gunwales.
Paula sat next to Tweed and studied him. He looked very tense. She knew he hated boats and water and he hadn't taken one of his Dramamines which neutralized sea-sickness.
'Are you all right?' she asked as the boat backed off from the shore.
'We could be in great danger,' Tweed warned Cardon and Newman who sat close to him.
'It's being on the water,' Paula soothed him. 'But it's only a short crossing. A couple of minutes.'
'At least five or more,' Cardon told her.
He unfastened the capacious canvas bag looped over his shoulder. As they proceeded down the narrow channel between sandbank and cliffs he slipped a hand inside and kept it there. Paula wondered what he was holding. A gun?
The two crew were squeezed inside the wheel-house and the skipper stared straight ahead, gripping the wheel. They reached the end of the sandbank and shortly afterwards the skipper swung his wheel. Paula realized there was open water now between them and the beach near Rock. Where do we land? she wondered.
'Quite a view,' Newman commented a minute later.
They had moved out towards Rock into the middle of the estuary. To the north they could see the open Atlantic, beyond two capes. In the exact centre of the oceanic expanse out at sea a huge brutal rock reared up shaped like a volcano. In places the sea glittered dazzling! y where the sun reflected off it. A sharp cold breeze rippled the blue surface.
'Soon be there,'Paula reassured Tweed.
'I hope so,' said Newman, his tone serious.
He leaned back to see past the wheel-house. Coming in from the ocean a large powerboat had suddenly appeared. It was rocketing towards them, its prow high above the water, curving in a wide arc towards them, leaving behind a great white wake stretching out towards the Atlantic. Newman stiffened, slid his hand inside his windcheater, then withdrew his hand empty. He'd never hit a target moving at that speed. They all heard the skipper's words, a mix of anger and anxiety, as he spoke to his mate.
'Bloody maniac. Never seen that boat before…'
Paula stiffened, then felt Tweed's hand on her wrist, squeezing it. She looked at him. He sat perfectly still, all signs of tension gone. She thought she detected an expression of satisfaction, but that was impossible. Tweed glanced across at Butler opposite him as the huge projectile thundered down closer on them.
Butler nodded to Garden. She glanced at Philip. He was nodding back to Butler, the briefest of motions. Newman was staring inside the wheel-house at the skipper. His hands gripped the wheel tightly. He swung it a little to the left – to port – which appeared to be the wrong manoeuvre. It seemed he had panicked, was making a futile attempt to head back for the shore they had left from – taking them straight into the path of the advancing powerboat, which Paula now saw was huge.