by Colin Forbes
'You bitch
'Superintendent Buchanan, could you come alongside me? But don't attempt to grab my pistol. I can fire instantly.' She used her left hand to extract something from a pocket. 'Mr Tweed, I would sooner you came to me.'
Tweed approached slowly, stood beside her while Warner kept his Colt aimed at Paula. She asked Tweed to hold out his hand, dropped a small key into it. Tweed went back to where he had been standing.
'Victor Warner is a master planner,' Eva went on. 'I will give him that. He also was the planner behind September 11. That key opens a secret drawer in the side of his desk. I managed to open it while Warner was in Cabinet. Medford training. In that drawer you will find a mass of material -a big airline timetable, American, listing all major flights. All those long distance, carrying a huge petrol load, are marked in blue. In red are marked the flights used from Boston and Newark on September 11. Al-Qa'eda trained the killers. Warner planned the routes…'
'I should kill you,' screamed Warner.
'You want a bullet in the head now?'
Warner, still aiming the Colt at Paula, began backing away from his desk. He soon reached the panelled wall. He used his left elbow to press against it. A section slid back like a secret door. Beyond was a tunnel. As he dived into it, Eva fired. The bullet hit the panelling.
'Missed,' Newman said to himself.
Eva, like a panther stalking its prey, slipped over to the door, disappeared into the tunnel. Paula ran forward, was thrust aside by Tweed, then by Newman. The tunnel, wide and tall, the floor stone-paved, sloped down. Warner was running when Eva fired again.
'Missed,' Newman repeated to himself.
At the end of the tunnel was an opening, daylight. Pressing the hidden button on the panelling in the study opened doors at both ends. Warner's tall figure was leaping down the tunnel, Eva not far behind. She fired again. 'Missed,' Newman repeated.
It was Paula who caught on to what was happening. She caught up with Newman, spoke in a quiet voice.
'She's missing deliberately, driving him into something.'
Warner reached the opening, was diving through it, when Eva fired again. The bullet hit the top of the opening. Newman grunted. The fourth shot. Three more bullets left in her Beretta. Both Tweed and Newman had guns in their hands but dare not use them for fear of hitting Eva. Suddenly they emerged into the open. It was misty at this level. Eva fired her fifth shot. It landed close enough to chip the edge of Warner's right shoe.
He panicked, tearing down the slope into the mist, followed by the others. Eva stopped, fired carefully. The bullet chipped the edge of Warner's other shoe. The mist thinned so they saw what happened.
Warner suddenly realized he had reached the brink of the lime pit. Too late. He lost his balance. He screamed as he plunged into the pit. His pursuers stood stock still, frozen by the sight. Warner managed to heave the upper part of his body upwards, smeared with lime. He waved his arms desperately, screamed again. His body was sucked down into the pit. With only his head above the whiteness, he opened his mouth to scream again. He swallowed lime. The scream came out as 'Goo… ch!' Then the head went under and where he had gone down the surface of the lime swirled for a few seconds, then settled.
Epilogue
It was three weeks later.
Tweed was holding a meeting in his office. Present were Paula, Beaurain and Newman. February was going out in a blaze of sunlight, a clear blue sky. In front of him Tweed had a sheaf of several reports. Airsight had provided several photos of Carpford. Paula's comment on their belated arrival was caustic.
'These reports are from Professor Saafeld, the pathologist,' Tweed began. 'As you know, Buchanan dropped the idea of searching for the missing bodies under the quarry, accepted my suggestion that it was the lime pit which should be cleared. This he achieved quickly, with the help of experts and specialist equipment. It can't have been pleasant.'
'Did he find everyone?' Paula asked quietly.
'He did. Six corpses. Some of them, to quote Saafeld, "little more than skeletons". But the brilliant Saafeld, with help from Paula, has identified them all. The first one, not surprisingly, was Victor Warner's – in good condition. He even had that pince-nez jammed on to his nose.'
'A bit late, I've realized that photo of someone in Arab dress taken at the Finsbury Park mosque is Victor Warner,' Paula remarked. 'Any trace of Linda Warner?' she enquired anxiously.
'Yes. Almost decomposed. He identified her by the two rings on the finger of her left hand – by the descriptions I gave him. Jasper Buller was in a bad state but amazingly enough his leather wallet, crammed with identification, was preserved.'
'And Mrs Gobble?' Paula asked. 'That dear old lady?'
'She was the second victim, so I was out of sequence. What remained of her corpse was identified by a string of blue beads she wore. Still attached to what, I fear, was little more than a skeleton. Again Paula helped Saafeld, since she'd described the blue beads she'd seen on Mrs Gobble when she visited her shop. Then there was Pecksniff, the crooked lawyer. Paula's description of him helped, plus the fact that his large watch-chain was still hanging loose from what was left of him. The last corpse to be hurled in was Martin Hogarth's after he committed suicide. Easily identified.'
'What a gruesome business,' Paula commented.
'Well,' said Tweed, reviewing the case, 'I did suspect Victor Warner early on. I knew his wife, Linda, and she was both intelligent and patriotic, and had her wits about her. I tried to think of who she would stop for in her car on that isolated road. For no one, knowing her. Then it struck me the only person she would have stopped for was her husband, parked in a car coming the other way, blocking the road. But that was only a theory – not evidence. Then Victor Warner began throwing road blocks in my way on several occasions.'
'Jules,' said Paula. 'Decoy.'
'I must admit,' agreed Beaurain, 'that the Minister seemed to hinder rather than help Tweed's investigation.'
'Victor Warner was a fanatic,' Tweed said grimly. 'Converted to Muslim Fundamentalism, he was ruthless, without pity. He murdered continually to close any loopholes which might give away his plan. I can only guess, but I'm sure that was why he murdered his wife. Linda discovered what he was up to and was going to expose him. His solution? Kill her. And the method of disposing of the bodies was diabolical.'
'The trolley on a rail line inside the tunnel I escaped on,' said Paula.
'Exactly. The victims were first shot by a bullet in the back of the head. Saafeld discovered the fracture it made on several corpses. He even found a bullet lodged inside Jasper Buller's brain. The body was then placed on the trolley, accompanied by one of his thugs who used the brake. Once it reached the end of the tunnel it was not far to carry the corpse and hurl it into the lime pit.'
'Which is what would have happened to me had I not escaped,' Paula said quietly. 'And strange how it was Eva Brand who detonated the climax. She had her justified revenge. So ironic that Warner perished in the same way as his victims.' She checked her watch. 'If you'll excuse me, I'm having lunch with Eva, so I'd better go…'
'The government was crazy to try and hush this up,' Newman remarked. 'A spin operation which left them dizzy. What crushed them was the discovery of the bodies in the lime pit.'
'Plus,' Tweed added, 'the fact that Palfry committed suicide while being held, pending trial, in Belmarsh Prison. He must have been easy for Warner to manipulate. Then there was the secret drawer in Warner's desk Eva gave me the key to. I spent a whole night going through the material at my flat.'
'What did you find?' asked Beaurain.
'The plan to destroy the six bridges over the Thames. Different suggestions as to the base to be used, ending up with choosing Dick's wharf. But there was more. Complete detailed plans for how to carry out the September 11 atrocity in New York. Warner planned that. Significant that he flew to New York, then to Boston, just before and after the frightful attack on the World Trade Center. After photocopying everything myse
lf, I sent all the originals to the States, to Cord Dillon, recently appointed from Deputy Director to Director of the CIA.' He paused. 'In addition the details of a second new attack planned on certain targets in the States. Also sent to Dillon.'
'With the PM's permission, I imagine?'
'Exactly. Now the rumours are growing that the government is about to fall. Strictly between us, the PM said he'd be glad to go.'
'I did hear,' Newman said tentatively, 'that Eva Brand might be joining us.'
'I'm seriously considering it. She has the experience, the brains, the character.'
'Won't that possibly put Paula in a hostile mood? With your having Eva also by your side?'
'If I decide to take her on she'll spend time down the Crescent in Communications.'
'But,' Newman persisted, 'she'll be coming round here a lot.'
'So I'm considering it,' Tweed replied.
'Don't fool me.' Newman chuckled. 'You've already made up your damned mind.'
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