forward. A tall thin man with a crooked walk, his head was long with warm eyes, his manner pleasant.
'Welcome, madame, and you, sir. I am Edwin Cocker.' He smiled again. 'I am the wood-carver of every item you see. You've seen the notice, 'no obli gation whatsoever to buy'.'
'You can carve just about anything,' said Tweed, looking round at the vast array.
He wandered over to a shelf where six beautiful chess pawns stood next to each other. He picked one up, turned to Cocker.
Paula sucked in her breath as she ran her fingers over its perfect smooth surface. Tweed was paying. Cocker opened a drawer and withdrew a polished mahogany box with a snap-shut lid. Opening it she saw it was lined with pink silk. Cocker very carefully placed the pawn inside, closed the lid, presented it to Paula with a brief bow.
'I can't thank you enough,' Paula began.
'There is something else, Mr Cocker,' Tweed said. 'I hope it won't spoil this very pleasant interlude, but I need to see your register of clients.'
He began to pull out his identity folder. Cocker stopped him with a smile.
'Mr Tweed, don't look so surprised, I should think everyone in Gunners Gorge knows you by now. I am sorry but no one can see my register. Clients know that is completely confidential. I am sorry, but no one can make me break my word.'
'If you were brought before a London court the judge could – and would – insist you produced that register. I apologize for having to say that.'
'I do understand.'
'One more question, if I may. Could you, with your extraordinary skill, produce a complete set of chess pieces?'
'Yes…' Cocker paused. 'It would take time.'
'It really has been a unique pleasure knowing you.' Tweed held out his hand and Cocker grasped it. Tweed lowered his voice. 'There will be no order for you to appear before any judge.'
'I was shocked by your threatening him with a court order,' Paula commented.
'On a murder investigation I use any method to get information.'
Marler met them outside. He seemed in an excep tionally good mood.
'Better get back to the hotel. Everyone, including Harry, has to be in the dining room for breakfast by 3.30 a.m. The landlord was very cooperative.'
'3.30 a. m!' echoed Paula. 'What on earth for?'
'I told you, breakfast. Then we drive along the High Street so you can see the battlefield. Harry has kindly let me drive his inconspicuous grey Fiat…'
Entering the deserted lobby, the buoyant Marler slapped Paula very gently on her rump.
'Sleep well,' he said. 'It will be a quiet day.' 'When someone predicts that,' she snapped back, 'the day turns out to be anything but quiet.'
TWENTY SIX
The pallid grey dawn transformed Gunners Gorge as they drove slowly out of the garage. Marler was behind the wheel with Tweed alongside him. Paula shared the back with Harry.
'I don't know how you managed it,' Paula said.
'Managed what?' Harry growled.
'Breakfast. You had a three-egg omelette, crispy bacon and fried potatoes.' She chuckled. 'You'll put on weight.'
'No, he won't,' Tweed called back. 'Had his annual check at the beginning of the year. The doctor said he'd never seen a fitter man.'
Paula was peering out. The town looked weird as the dawn light spread over it: more like a frightening ghost town. The streets had recently been hosed down by night workers. Not a soul to be seen.
Halfway along the High Street, Marler dipped his head to gaze up through the windscreen. When they reached a layby he swung into it, stopped, turned off the engine.
'Someone is watching from the top of the ridge. Be back in a minute. Everyone stay in the car…'
Diving out, he began climbing rapidly up a steep gulley. He paused frequently to listen. Nothing. He continued climbing, avoiding beds of pebbles, which would make a noise, and made his way up to the summit over a grassy area. At the top he peered over. A short distance to his left stood a heavily built man peering through a large telescope mounted on a tripod. The telescope was aimed at the caves on the far side of the Falls.
Marler remained quite still as the man turned his head, then went back to staring through the telescope. Marler knew now who and what he was. Dangerous. Very slowly he eased his way across the grass on the summit. Then he hauled the Smith amp; Wesson revolver he had borrowed from Bob Newman out of his shoulder holster, tucked it down inside his belt.
He suddenly leapt up, ran, his long legs covering the ground swiftly. His target heard him coming, bent down to an open satchel on the ground, came up holding a stiletto-like knife. He swung round. By then Marler was behind him. The heavy barrel of the revolver crashed down on his head. As the target sagged, the barrel descended again with all Marler's force.
Checking the man as he lay crumpled on the ground, Marler found no sign of a pulse. A few yards beyond the telescope on its tripod was a steep, narrow gulch. Pebbles covered its entrance, then came smooth rock, ending abruptly where more rocks had blocked any exit.
Marler lifted the body, hands under its armpits, dragged it to the top of the gulch, shoved it down. The corpse slid rapidly down over the pebbles like a toboggan. It continued its journey until it hit the blocked exit and lay still.
Marler threw the dropped knife into the gulch and, after a quick look, the satchel with neatly arranged pockets for different knives.
Next he gazed through the telescope, which had a nightsight. He found he was staring into the shallow cave at level one on the other side of the Falls.
'Thought so,' he said to himself.
Heaving up the whole apparatus, he flung it into the gulch. In doing so, one of the tripod legs caught briefly in a drystone wall perched on the opposite edge. Several large stones broke loose and fell into the gulch. Which gave him another idea.
He walked round the top of the gulch, sat down on the far side, placed his boots against the wall. He took a deep breath, heaved against it with all his strength.
The whole wall collapsed into the gulch. It nearly took him with it. Marler grabbed a gorse bush, which saved him. Easing himself back from the drop, he stood up, walked back round the end, peered down. The dawn light was stronger.
All he could see was a jumbled pile of rocks. No sign of the body, no sign of the telescope, no sign of anything. He clapped both hands lightly, then scampered back down the route he had ascended, slipped behind the wheel.
'What happened?' Tweed asked.
'I ’ d underestimated Lepard's caution. He placed a chap with a large telescope up there, aimed at the caves. Purpose – to make sure we hadn't discovered them and had people checking them out. A nasty piece of work monitoring the telescope. Chap called Pearl Kerwald.'
'Pearl is a girl's name,' Paula said.
'A nickname. His technique was to patrol Bond Street, Mayfair, areas like that. He'd see a well- dressed woman with a string of pearls round her neck, grab her from behind, use a sharp knife to cut the rope near the clasp. There were cases when his knife slipped and he'd cut her throat. He'd throw her over the bonnet of a parked car, yell, 'Heart attack!' and disappear.'
'Where is he now?' Paula pressed.
'Somewhere inside that small mountain. They said twelve thugs coming up. One down, eleven to go…'
'You've tactfully left out the one I had to strangle,' she told him, squeezing his shoulder.
