Precipice

Epilogue

Driving towards Corfe, Brazil was held up for a long time by roadworks. He thought he had never driven along a stretch of road with so many traffic lights controlling single-file traffic. The light was always red when he came to it.

Eve, in a bad temper because she had been moved to the back of the limo, was grouching constantly, which didn't help Brazil to keep his temper. Her main grudge was that Igor was sitting in the front passenger seat alongside its master.

'I don't see why I should be stuck in the back just to give a dog the best seat,' she grumbled on.

'Igor likes to see what is coming, to look at the view,' Brazil replied, waiting for a green light.

'Damn all for him to see.' she grouched.

'You never notice scenery.' he reminded her. 'I know what's eating you – the lack of a drink.'

'I could do with a vodka.' she admitted. 'We should carry a bottle in the car.'

'Then we're stopped by a young eager beaver policeman, he sees the bottle, and we waste time while I'm breathalysed.'

'You don't drink and drive.' she nagged on.

'They don't know that until they've tested me.'

'I haven't seen one policeman in the Purbecks.' She leaned forward to emphasize what she was saying. 'And I drove all over these sodden hills with Philip Cardon.'

'Have a good time with him?' Brazil enquired.

'So-so. He's just another man. Keep your eyes open.' she said suddenly. 'The light's changed.'

Brazil was wondering how she had charmed all those bankers as he drove on. The threatening storm clouds had passed over without dropping any rain. Again it was brilliant sunshine. Brazil thought the Purbecks had a quiet beauty all their own. He had been wise to buy Grenville Grange. He came up to another traffic light, which turned amber, then red. He braked.

'You could have got through the amber if you'd rammed your foot down,' Eve ranted on. 'Why not hand over the wheel to me? Then we might get there.'

'I prefer to get there alive.' he said with an edge to his voice.

'I'll have you know I'm a damned good driver.' she replied, leaning forward again.

'Good for you.'

She lit a fresh cigarette, leaving her previous stub in the ashtray, still smoking. Brazil glanced back, told her to put it out properly. She stabbed viciously with a lipstick holder she took from her shoulder bag. In her impatience she almost pulled out the canister of Mace gas.

Sitting back, she went on smoking, tipped ash on the edge of the tray so it fell onto the previously flawlessly clean floor. Someone else can clean that up, she said to herself. The light changed to green.

'Don't miss this one.' she hissed.

He waited until he'd passed the roadworks before he stopped the car. He turned round and looked at her, his voice cold.

'If you don't shut up I'll have to consider terminating your contract.'

'Go ahead. See if I care.'

He drove on, reached the beginning of Corfe, drove through the old village, turned up the steep hill to Kingston. On the way up he couldn't avoid a large watersplash. Water cascaded up, covering the windscreen briefly, running down the windows on Eve's side of the car. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. She was grinning wickedly.

'Drive up the middle of the road and you can avoid that happening,' she said, assuming a bored tone.

'With a blind bend ahead of me and maybe another vehicle speeding down?'

'There's very little traffic on this road. I remember when I was driving with Philip. He, at least, dodged all the watersplashes,' she goaded.

'Good for him.'

A heavy silence descended inside the limo as he drove through Kingston, then later approached the drive leading to Grenville Grange. Even in the sunshine the old pile had a forbidding look. As they slowly came closer Eve leaned forward.

'I don't see any lights. And all the shutters are closed. I thought you said you'd arranged for staff to have the place ready for us.'

'Maybe they got the date wrong.'

'In that case, let's have dinner together at the Priory in Wareham.' Her tone was suddenly pleasant, coaxing. 'The food there is very good, very good indeed.'

'And the bar isn't bad either, I assume?'

'You know they have a good bar. You told me you'd had dinner there several times. Let's turn round and head straight for the Priory.'

'We'll check the situation here first.'

'Bet there's no one at home.'

'We'll find out, won't we?'

The power cruiser had left St Alban's Head behind, was several miles out to sea from the coast, when Philip spotted the steep-sided ridge which was Lyman's Tout. Through his powerful field glasses Tweed could see something Philip, concentrating on steering the cruiser, couldn't.

Perched like a gigantic guardhouse at the summit of the slope running down away from it, was Grenville Grange. Paula was also using her glasses to scan the mansion. She dropped her glasses, looped round her neck like Tweed's.

'That's funny, I can't see any lights. The place looks closed for the season.'

'It's rather early for lights,' Tweed mused.

'From what I can see it's the sort of place where they need the lights on all the time. Even the shutters appear closed.'

'Wait till we get nearer.'

Philip was having to exert all his efforts to control the cruiser. A powerful current was running athwart the direction towards the cliffs he wanted to take. He felt confident that he could guide the cruiser to the old jetty he had seen, but he was bothered by the power of the current. Unless the jetty was protected by a nearby cape it could be a tricky business bringing the boat alongside the jetty so they could disembark.

Like a good skipper, he kept his worries to himself. Newman appeared, holding his field glasses.

'I've spotted the jetty you're aiming for. Luckily there's a huge rock projecting out just to the west of it. The sea looks reasonably quiet there.'

'We'll make it,' Philip said and concentrated on steering.

'The headlights of a car, a limo, have appeared,' Paula said as she stared again through her glasses. 'It's coming round the side of the house very slowly. Can't yet see who is driving – or who else, if anyone, is inside. Can we speed up a bit? Or shouldn't I make suggestions like that?'

'The lady can have extra speed.' Philip assured her. 'Just a little more. Here goes…'

'They haven't even opened the gates.' Eve exploded as they arrived at the entrance to Grenville Grange.

Brazil didn't reply. Taking out his computer card-key, he leaned over to the box attached to a pillar, inserted the card, withdrew it. The electronically operated gates swung slowly open.

'That must mean the blasted servants aren't here.' she snapped.

'Not necessarily. They may have closed the gates after going inside as a security precaution. The shutters at the front are often kept closed, if you remember.'

'Looks like a morgue to me.'

'We'll take a look round the back. They may be preparing a meal.'

'Why no guards, then?'

'Oh, that's simple. I had every guard despatched to Europe. We'll have to hire some more.'

As he answered her Brazil was driving slowly up the drive. Coming to where the drive forked, he took the left-hand track, drove on round the side of the mansion. The sea came into view and the wind hit the car. Leaning forward, Brazil continued on to the end of the track where it petered out and the slope towards the cliff edge began. Here, because the ground was so arid, embedded with rocks, the surface was hard. He stopped the limo.

'What the hell have we come this way for?' Eve demanded.

'You see that large power cruiser out at sea? It's coming this way – and there's an old jetty with a footpath leading up from it on the other side of Lyman's Tout. We need to find out who is on board.' He reached down by his side, grasped a pair of binoculars, handed them to her over his shoulder. 'Take these, go to the edge of the cliff so you are closer, check if you recognize anyone.'

'These aren't the high-powered pair.'

"They'll do. I've lost the others.' he lied.

'Oh, all right. I suppose I have to work even to get that dinner at the Priory. There's no one in the house…'

Brazil sat in the limo perched at the top of the slope as she walked away, her trench coat flapping round her like a cloak. The words of the cassette Gustav had played back to him were echoing in his mind. She would have sold him out to Newman for a hundred thousand. And he didn't for a moment believe that Gustav had decided on his own to try and kill Tweed. Someone had put the idea into his head – had probably relayed a fictitious order from himself. He knew who that someone had to be.

Eve reached the edge of the cliff, glanced down, backed away with a shudder several paces. She pressed the binoculars to her eyes. Couldn't make out who was on board the incoming power cruiser.

'Damned fool.' she muttered. 'I told him they were the wrong glasses. Now I'll have to wait until the thing gets much closer.'

Inside the car Brazil unlocked a compartment, took out the black glove, slipped it over his right hand. Igor began to get excited. Brazil pointed his index finger at Eve.

Leaning over, he opened the passenger door. Igor bounded out, began loping towards Eve who had her back to him. Brazil folded his arms, watched, waited with no expression on his face.

Igor, unlike the time when it had toppled Jose over the brink, was not running over the snow which had muffled the sound of its fast-moving paws. Here the ground was hard and its paws hammered down on the surface, no longer muffled.

Eve, with her acute hearing, realized what was happening. At the last moment she dropped the glasses, dropped her body flat on the ground, cushioning her fall with her gloved hands. Her chin was protruding over the abyss.

Igor had already taken off, leaping up to crash into her back before he dropped to the ground. Instead, there was nothing to stop its flying leap and it continued on into space, then began falling with nothing to stop it until it reached the rocks and the sea far below.

Eve stood up, her expression ugly. She composed herself before she turned round, began to march steadily back up towards the car. One hand opened her shoulder bag as she studied the position of the limo perched at the beginning of the downward slope.

Brazil reached across to open the passenger door he had closed. He started speaking as soon as she reached the car.

'Get in. That's the last wolfhound I have anything to do with.'

'You bastard!'

Her face was twisted in manic rage as she spoke and aimed the canister full in his face, pressed the button. Mace gas enveloped Brazil. He let out a choking cry, both hands over his eyes as he endured agonizing pain, unable to see anything.

Eve slammed the passenger door shut, ran round the car, opened the driver's door, reached in to the automatic controls, moved the gear lever from 'park' to 'drive', released the brake, slammed the door closed. Shoving the canister back inside her shoulder bag, she leaned against the side of the limo, used both hands to push it with all her strength. It began to move downwards. She grinned sadistically. Inside, Brazil was using one hand to fumble for the door handle, couldn't find it. Eve felt herself moving with the car.

She glanced down, saw with horror the wind had blown a large flap of her trench coat inside the car, so when she had closed the door it had trapped the flap inside. The limo's momentum began increasing, unbalancing her. She crashed down on to her shoulder, still dragged along beside the car. Desperately she extended her left arm, clutched at the trench coat on the outside of the door, trying to rip it free with her hand. But the cloth was strong, remained fixed inside the door.

Her body, keelhauled along the hard ground, was partially protected by her clothing, but her shoulder bag was caught underneath her and the canister dug into her body. The limo was picking up speed now, she glanced ahead, saw the cliff edge rushing towards her.

The car hit something as the front wheels went over the brink. A large long rock, shaped like a huge log, had trapped the chassis midway and began to act as a fulcrum, stopping the limo. Eve was perched over the edge from her waist. The car began to see-saw over the rock fulcrum. She was staring down the three hundred foot precipice, down its sheer face to the huge rocks like fangs at the base of the cliff. A huge wave crashed against the cliff, briefly submerging the rocks. The wind blew spume and spray high up the cliff, into her face.

'What's happening on that cliff?' Philip asked. 'I can vaguely see a car hanging over the edge.'

'I think it could be Brazil's car.' Tweed replied carefully.

'But don't you see…" Paula began.

She was stopped saying anything else by a nudge in the ribs from Tweed. He shook his head, nodded towards Philip's back.

Through their glasses they had seen it all. Tweed was able to make out the terror on Eve's face as she gazed down into eternity. He felt it better Philip did not know the details.

The power cruiser was still some distance from the cliff-top and Philip was struggling to fight the current, his whole attention concentrated on steering the vessel.

Tweed and Paula, along with Newman and Marler on the starboard deck, continued gazing through their binoculars at the horror on the cliff.

The limo continued to see-saw slowly. The front wheels would be lifted into the air while Eve tore away with her left hand at the trench coat, hoping her body weight, uplifted with the car, would pull the cloth free. At the summit of the see-saw she glanced down, saw the ground at the edge of the precipice below her, knew that if she could get free she had a chance of falling on to terra firma. Then the front wheels would begin to descend and, once more, half her body was poised over the edge.

Inside the car Brazil, who had taken the brunt of the Mace gas in his left eye, could see, mistily, the sea rolling in, realized the car was half over the brink. His clawing hand found the handle, grasped it, tried to open the door. But the cloth caught in the door had jammed it. He hardly knew what he was doing as the car continued its diabolical see-sawing motion.

Eve's body was jolted. She knew something had happened. Something fateful. The limo was slipping forward off its fulcrum, sliding over the rock which had held it there for so long. There was a sudden lurch and her mind blanked out.

The car slid forward, paused as the rear wheels met the fulcrum. With the major weight of the car now poised over the cliff the rear wheels were hauled forward. Eve had a glimpse of the precipice again, of the sea rushing up to meet her. She became unconscious.

The car, with its second passenger attached to its side, plunged down, sheering past the black wall of the precipice, gaining more and more momentum. It hit the biggest of the fanged rocks on the tip just as a monster wave broke over the rock, exploding water halfway up the cliff. When it receded the car had vanished. The tide was going out, the savage sea had claimed another portion of its prey.

'Philip, take us back to Poole Harbour.' Tweed said after he had lowered his binoculars.

'The car went down, didn't it?' Philip asked.

'Yes, it did.'

'Who was inside it? What happened?'

'Brazil was inside it.' Tweed said quickly. 'I think his brakes failed him at just the wrong moment, as brakes sometimes do. Paula, come with me. Time we had a word with Newman and Marler…'

He ran down the steps leading to the deck, this time holding onto the rail. The vessel was pitching and tossing as Philip began to change course, and the wind was blowing like a banshee. Tweed spoke when he had Paula, Newman, and Marler together inside the luxurious cabin.

'You all saw what happened. Philip, not using glasses, only saw the car go. I told him Brazil was inside it. After we've landed I'm going to tell him Eve was inside the car, sitting next to Brazil. I know he no longer has any emotions about Eve, but I think he'd find what really happened very upsetting. So, all of you, keep your stories straight. Understood?'

They told him they did understand. Tweed suggested they might as well stay in the huge cabin until they docked. Paula said she thought it was a good idea, but she was going back on the bridge to keep Philip company. When she had gone Tweed switched on a radio to the World Service.

'It has just been reported,' the announcer said, 'that General Marov has called for a summit conference of the great powers to be held in Vienna. The President of the United States has agreed to attend, as have the Prime Minister, the Chancellor of Germany, and the President of France. It is understood that the ailing President of Russia has handed over plenipotentiary powers to General Marov to negotiate. That is the end of the announcement.'

Tweed switched off the radio. He smiled without humour.

'In short, that means first that Marov has established Russia again as a major force in the world. Second that Marov is the man who controls the new, sealed-off Russia. We may be busy in future.'

'What happened to Archie?' Tweed asked Marler just after they had re-entered Poole Harbour and were close to disembarking.

'Oh, Archie,' Marler drawled. 'When he'd seen the end of The Motorman he just vanished, the way he always does. He'll be in touch with me sooner or later.'

'And Keith Kent will be sending me a big bill,' Tweed ruminated.

'Kent did call me at the Elite,' Newman remarked. 'I told him there wasn't anything else he could do. He promised to send you his account. Feel that bump? We've landed…'

They waited by their transport until Philip returned after dealing with the formalities of handing back the power cruiser. Paula took him to one side as the others climbed into their vehicles.

'Philip, you're not going back to that empty house on your own, are you?'

'Why not?' He gave her a warm smile. 'That's my home.'