'I insist that our Land-Rover leads the way. No attempt to overtake me, Gaunt. Let's get moving…'
The gale had reached a new pitch of frenzy on Bodmin Moor. Hunched over the wheel, with Paula by his side and Newman in a rear seat, Tweed drove the Land-Rover at high speed but within the limit, then slowed to turn off along the side road leading to Tresillian Manor.
Paula slid her hand inside her shoulder bag, gripped the. 32 Browning in the special pocket. She had phoned Monica from Washington, and when they passed through Customs at London Airport Monica handed her the small cloth bag containing her gun.
'The gate's open,' she commented.
That's Buchanan. I asked him to open it so we could not waste any time…'
He parked the Land-Rover at the foot of the long stone terrace in front of the house. They waited on the terrace for Gaunt to arrive in his BMW, Tweed met the car, held out his hand for the front door key.
'This is my house…' Gaunt began.
'The key. We're going in first.' Tweed looked at Jennie as she slowly stepped out of the car. 'You do want to know who killed them, don't you?'
'Why look at me?' she snapped back at him.
'Wait, everyone.' It was Eve, snug in her riding jacket, walking towards the stables at the side of the manor. She looked back at Gaunt. 'You said you'd look after Rusty, my beautiful mare.'
'Ned, a reliable chap, has come in every day, cleaned out her quarters, fed her, given her a trot over the moor.'
'I'll give you two minutes,' Tweed told her. 'We'll wait here on the terrace…'
Eve was as good as her word, returned in two minutes with a glowing smile for Gaunt.
'She's in beautiful condition, and so glad to see me.'
'We'll now all go inside,' Tweed announced.
Opening the heavy front door with the key, he strode inside the hall with the woodblock floor. With a firm tread he walked over to the closed dining-room door and looked back before he grasped the handle. Eve stood behind him, Jennie, looking grim, was close to her. Amberg came next, prodded forward by Newman.
Tweed flung open the door, strode quickly inside. The others followed and stopped dead in their tracks. A grotesque scene met their stunned gaze. Seven figures dressed in black men's suits were sprawled round the long table. Two were still seated, slumped across the table in pools of dark red blood. Four more, toppled out of their chairs, lay in more pools of blood on the floor. The ultimate macabre horror was at the head of the table -where Amberg had sat. This figure was bent over a broken-backed chair, its face eaten away by acid, skeletal bones like steel rods exposed, revealing the skull beneath the skin.
Epilogue
'The monster responsible for this obscene crime is in this room,' Tweed announced. 'She was seen in Padstow on the day of the mass murder – even though she was supposed to be in Zurich. Eight people – including the butler – died. Add Helen Frey, Klara and Theo Strebel and she has coldly ended the lives of eleven human beings. Add Celia Yeo and the real postman…'
Jennie stifled a scream. Eve sucked in a deep breath and whipped a 6.35-mm. Beretta out of her jacket pocket. She aimed it point-blank at Tweed as Paula produced her Browning, pointed it at the widest target – Eve's chest.
'Pull that trigger,' Eve warned, 'and Tweed is dead. Very dead. Drop the bloody thing, you bitch.'
Her voice had changed, was a harsh growl, her eyes stared with a near-insane expression. Paula stood her ground as she snapped out a reply.
'Not that easy, Eve.' She lowered her aim. 'Shoot Tweed and you get bullets in your abdomen. It will take days for you to die in terrible agony.'
'Then we play it different, dear.' Eve's face seemed to be carved out of marble. 'I'm leaving this room. If anyone tries to stop me, Tweed is dead. If you all stay sensible – still – Tweed survives. Everyone except Tweed and Paula move away from the door…'
Newman grabbed Amberg, who seemed frozen with fear, by the arm and forced him further into the room. Gaunt and Jennie obeyed the order. Backing towards the open door, Eve kept her weapon, gripped in both hands, aimed at Tweed. Paula's Browning swivelled slowly, constantly aimed at its target.
Reaching the open door, Eve held the Beretta in one hand. With the other she slammed it shut as she stepped into the hall. As the door was closing she yelled out: 'First one who follows me is dead as a doornail…'
Paula was the first to react. She saw Eve dart past the windows of the dining-room, crouching low, heading for the stables. Running to the casement window, she flung it open and climbed outside. Instead of heading for the stables she ran to the Land-Rover, jumped into the seat behind the wheel. Tweed had left the key in the ignition. Men could be so careless.
She heard the clatter of hooves a second before switching on the engine. Newman was running towards her.
'Wait for me!'
'No time…!'
Paula shoved her Browning under the seat cushion beside her with one hand, driving in a semicircle with the other, driving towards the passage between manor and stables. She saw Eve on her horse, fleeing behind the manor, followed her. Beyond the stretch of rough grass extending away behind the manor Eve rode her horse through the gap in the firs on to the moor. Paula pressed her foot down, bracing her back against the seat, careering through the same gap…
Only a four-wheel-drive vehicle could have negotiated the rough rocky terrain of the ascending moor. Her target rode like the devil, titian hair streaming behind her in the fury of the gale. Grimly, Paula maintained her pursuit. This was personal: Eve had threatened to kill Tweed.
As Paula narrowed the gap between herself and the horsewoman, Eve turned several times in her saddle, fired the Beretta. Paula counted the rounds and knew when Eve's gun was empty. Not a single bullet had come close, not even penetrating her windscreen. Firing from a racing horse, Eve's self-control had finally cracked.
Paula suddenly realized Eve was heading for Five Lanes. She had a cottage there. High Tor loomed up ahead. As the cluster of whitewashed cottages came closer Paula saw a cream Jaguar parked outside one – Eve's hope of escape. She accelerated, came so close to the flying horse that Eve gave up all hope of using the Jaguar. Eve changed direction, plunged up a steep slope, heading for the summit of High Tor.
Paula drove up after her, had almost caught up with the flying horse when her right-hand front wheel mounted a boulder. She braked automatically as the vehicle tilted violently and she was hurled out to the left. She rolled like a parachutist landing, stopped, saw to her horror she was at the edge of the sheer abyss where the servant girl, Celia Yeo, had been hurled over.
Half-stunned by her fall, she saw the Land-Rover had righted itself, was standing four-square on its wheels. Then she saw Eve riding towards her, face twisted into an evil grimace of triumph. She was going to use the horse to kill Paula, its hooves hammering into her skull. On the verge of reining in her mare, the horse reacted with terror as it saw the drop. It reared up without warning. Paula stared as Eve left the saddle, was catapulted over the brink. She heard her long scream, saw her somersaulting body plunging down beyond the abyss, saw her head smash into a massive boulder, her arms jerk out sideways, then she was still, a broken corpse similar to that of Celia Yeo whom she had pushed over the same drop.
'The tableau in the dining-room was constructed of dummies with wigs,' Chief Inspector Buchanan explained as Paula drank sweetened tea. 'The blood was red oil-paint – nice and sticky. I enlisted the aid of a friend who worked at Madame Tussaud's Waxwork Museum before he retired. Most effective job.'
'But Amberg's face – or the dummy used to fake him. The face was also destroyed with acid.'
She looked round at all the people in the living-room at Tresillian Manor. Tweed, sitting close, with Newman near by. Amberg in a chair next to Newman, looking dazed. Jennie, gazing at the banker as though she couldn't believe what she saw.
