The Main Chance

by Colin Forbes

  * * *

  `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.

  Snape, clad in corduroy trousers and a clean blue- striped pullover, stood against one wall, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

  `Not bad, Paula, for a butler, don't you think?'

  She never had time to reply. Marler scanned the room and strode across to the gun cupboard. He turned the key in the lock, opened both doors, stared for a moment at the weapons, then pointed at one.

  `Excuse me,' he said.

  All the weapons were secured with clamps. Marler removed the clamp round the gun he'd pointed at, took it out carefully, turned round, the muzzle pointed at the ceiling.

  `A stainless-steel Winchester,' he said.

  `A shotgun,' Snape replied.

  `I know it's a shotgun,' Marler said coldly. 'Is it loaded?'

  `It could be,' Snape said irritably. 'Yes, I believe it is.'

  `And the safety catch isn't on. That's how accidents happen. I presume you have a certificate for it along with the rest of your arsenal? You have? That wouldn't save you when an inspector calls to check privately held guns. It works like this,' he told his audience after unloading the gun and placing the shells inside a deep ashtray.

  Marshal, standing next to Newman, was unusually quiet. He watched closely as Marler, who had first put the safety on.

  `First,' Marler began, 'you release the safety, then rack the gun which takes less than a second. Now you're ready to open fire. Press the trigger, rack the gun again, you are ready to fire again and another time and another.'

  There was tension inside the cabin. Paula made an attempt to defuse it. She looked at Snape.

  `What do you use it for?'

  `Ahr He was grinning sadistically. 'I see a bunch of rabbits clustered together on top of a grassy hill eating. I aim once, fire. I press the trigger and one blast from that shotgun wipes out the lot. Don't even have to clean up the mess. Foxes arrive in the evening and gulp down everything.'

  `A massacre,' Marler said in the same cold tone. `You're in the country here,' Snape protested. "Then I'll take the city every time,' Paula snapped without looking at Snape.

  She turned round and found Tweed standing very still behind her. She couldn't read his expression. Next to him stood Lavinia. Her expression was grim, her lips pursed.

  Turning round again Paula saw that Marler had put on gloves, was using a handkerchief to wipe his prints off the wea
pon. He placed it carefully back inside its clamp, opened a small drawer and dropped the shells inside it with others already there. He locked the cupboard, threw the key to Snape, who missed catching it. As he bent down to pick it up he glared venomously at Marler.

  `Tweed, Paula, Marler,' Newman called from the door. 'Let's go for a walk..

  `I'm going back to the manor,' Lavinia told them. `Heaven knows what's going on there'

  `I feel like a bit of gambling,' Marshal decided, then headed back the way they had come.

  `Gambling?' queried Paula to Lavinia who was still close to her.

  `I'm going to stop it,' Lavinia said. She whispered, `Another technical team arrived from London very early this morning. Sergeant Warden apologized to me for the delay. They had a photographer who took lots of pictures of those horrible collar things found in Crystal's room. Then they took them away, carefully packed, and also her blouses. I'm so sure someone planted them on her, but who?'

  `Are you coming with us or not?' Newman's voice called out from where a path turned a corner. 'You'll be interested.'

  With Marler in the lead and followed by Tweed, Newman and Paula walked a devious route through The Forest. Paula had an idea they were heading towards the main road — and the wall. She was right. The Forest ended suddenly. Beyond was open ground and the high wall. A telescopic ladder, fully open, was propped against it. Newman waved towards it and looked at Paula.

  `Ups-a-daisy.'

  She shinned up the ladder swiftly. Along the top of this part of the wall the barbed wire had a gap. The ends at each end were strung out. Across the road The Forest was a dark barrier. She descended rapidly.

  `Someone clipped the wire to make the ghastly collars,' she said.

  `Right first time'

  He bent down to pick up a long deep grey metal box, lifted the lid. The box was empty, but the insides were covered with scratches. Newman gestured towards it.

  `We found this in a small shed outside Snape's cabin. We borrowed it without asking him. He wasn't there at the time.'

  `So,' Paula said thoughtfully, 'the murderer had metal clippers. First to get his raw material, then to convert them into those awful collars. But where did he obtain the wooden handles?'

  `We may never know,' said Marler.

  Returning to the manor they heard a lot of excited chatter from the main library. Guided part of the way by Newman, Tweed and Paula entered by the back door, ignoring Mrs Grandy's baleful look.

  Inside the library was a long square table covered with green baize. On one side was a roulette wheel with Lavinia standing opposite the three players as she acted as croupier.

  The three players facing her were Crystal, Marshal and Warner. Crystal had a few chips in front of her to continue playing. Marshal had a fairly large pile. Warner had the largest pile.

  Standing next to Paula and Marler, Tweed ignored the state of the game. He had learned long ago it was the faces you watched since this could give you a clue to character.

  The game went on for a while without anyone risking much. Then the atmosphere changed, became tense. Crystal laid all she had left on black. Red came up as the ball settled in the slot on the wheel.

  `Silly game,' she burst out.

  `Of course it's silly,' Lavinia said. 'It's worse when you have bankers gambling. Shouldn't be allowed.' `Don't start that again,' Marshal shouted.

  go on saying it until you stop for good. It's wrong.'

  `Don't you tell me what's wrong. You're an amateur at everything,' Marshal bellowed.

  He pushed his entire pile of chips forward. 'All on the red.'

  Just before Lavinia set the wheel in motion Warner pushed his own huge pile of chips forward.

  `All on the black,' he said quietly.

  The wheel spun, seemed to take forever to slow down, then almost stopped. The ball hovered on the red, then slipped over and settled on the black. Lavinia used her rake to transfer Marshal's chips to add to Warner's pile.

  `We need fresh air in here!' Marshal yelled.

  Lavinia walked quickly to the window, opened it wide. She was followed by Marshal who snatched up the wheel, hurled it out of the window. They all heard it shatter on the terrace.

  `Kids' game,' Marshal shouted as he stormed out of the room.

  Warner remained seated. He hadn't moved a muscle or showed any reaction during the game, let alone said anything. Now he turned and his glance caught Paula's. Their eyes met. As Warner's large rock-like head gazed at her he had a strange smile on his face. It was the first time Paula had seen him smile since she'd arrived. It was a peculiar smile, she thought, as his gravelly voice rumbled, 'Winner takes all.'

  21

  `We're driving down to Seacove in Cornwall today.'

  Tweed had waited in the corridor for Paula to emerge from her apartment. From her expression he knew he had taken her by surprise.

  `Why are we doing that? I suppose that's why you told me last night to be ready for breakfast at seven- thirty. But why are we going all that way?'

  Tweed explained. Later the previous day, after Marshal had hurled out the roulette wheel then stormed out, he had invited Tweed to join him in the smaller library outside Bella's study.

  Marshal had recovered, had been in his usual buoyant mood. He had urged Tweed, with Paula, to join him in a trip down to Seacove. Tweed had agreed at once.

  `Why?' Paula asked again.

  `Because I need to see Marshal — what he is like, away from this manor where the atmosphere is becoming claustrophobic.'

  `I need something warm for going down there, don't I?' she asked after eyeing the heavy knee-length overcoat folded over his arm.

  `I'd advise it. I'm going down now. See you at breakfast.'

  After the meal, Tweed stood with Paula by the Audi at the back of the manor. She took his arm and squeezed it. `Do you mind if I drive?'

  `I was going to suggest you did...'

  Driving round to the terrace they found the Rolls parked, Marshal at the wheel, Snape holding open a rear passenger door.

  Paula parked behind the Rolls, the driver's door flew open and Marshal stormed back to Paula's open window. He glared as he spoke.

  `What the devil do you think Snape's holding open the rear door for?'

  `I have no idea,' she replied with a smile.

  `Because,' he rasped, 'you were supposed to be travelling down with me. Isn't a Rolls good enough for you? What's happened to the beat-up old Merc? Conked out at last?'

  `It's Newman's car and he's using it today,' she said with another smile. 'And I prefer independent transport. So does Tweed.'

  `If you don't follow me closely you'll never get there …'

  `You handled that well,' Tweed said quietly as they drove away.

  The gates were opening as the Rolls approached them. Tweed glanced back, saw Lavinia in the doorway. She had opened the gates and waved. Tweed waved back.

  Driving along the narrow lane to Gladworth, Paula kept her distance behind the Rolls, which was roaring along, headlights on blinding full beam, horn honking non-stop.

  `I won't lose him,' she promised Tweed, 'but I need space. Then if he hits something I've time to pull up.' `Very sensible.'

  The Rolls shot through Gladworth's High Street and a pedestrian had to jump clear. Marshal shouted something at her and then Gladworth was behind them.

  `Lavinia told me,' Paula remarked, 'that a technical team had photographed Crystal's wardrobe and taken away those two beastly collars. Will they arrest her?'

  `Not a chance. Not enough evidence. Her fingerprints were neither on the collars nor on the door knobs.'

  `Are we getting anywhere with the case? Any strong suspects?'

  `Not really. Yet. Paula, do you mind if I have a nap?' 'I'll be as quiet as the proverbial mouse.'

  Tweed relaxed, clasped his hands, closed his eyes.

  Paula knew he was not actually sleeping: he was taking the opportunity to sift all the information he'd acquired so far, playing back the
conversations he'd had at Hengistbury, searching for something odd, an inconsistency.

  They made good progress. The Rolls was going full out; Paula kept within the speed limits but never lost Marshal. She was enjoying herself as they passed from one county to another. The scenery kept changing. Rolling hill country, long flat plains, copses perched on hilltops. The sun continued to blaze down.

  They had covered a lot of ground when the weather changed dramatically. The sun vanished. A fierce wind blew up, menacing low thunderclouds filled the sky. Tweed opened his eyes. They were driving along a wide stretch of road when Marshal signalled, pulled up at the side. Paula lowered the window she had earlier raised when the wind started blowing in. She angled the Audi alongside the Rolls, where Marshal had lowered his window on the passenger side.

  `Isn't this just wonderful,' he bellowed.

  `What is?' Paula asked.

  `Stormy weather! Just what we need to demonstrate what the Star Sprite can do in a rough sea.'

  `I'm so glad someone is pleased,' she retorted. `You'll both come out with me aboard her. You'll love it.'

  `No, we won't,' Tweed said firmly. 'I hate the sea and Paula will stay with me on terra firma.'

  `Wimps!' yelled Marshal.

  He had kept his engine running and suddenly he took off without warning. Paula gave Tweed a look and drove on, seeing Marshal in the distance. Soon they were driving through narrow lanes, only room for one car, with steep banks rising high above them. Devon, she thought. Godawful motoring country. They left it behind fairly soon and entered a quite different landscape. Tweed sat up straight to have a good look.

  `Cornwall,' he said.

  Inland great stretches of rugged rocky ridges headed westward for miles. Nothing grew. It was a desolate and forbidding desert. Then to the north he saw the sea not far away below them, a raging tumult of giant waves, rolling higher and higher until they hit the shore in a series of thunderous explosions.