Cell (64 page)

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. Press
ing 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 patholo
gist,' 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 investiga
tion.'

'Victor Warner was a fanatic,' Tweed said grimly. 'Con
verted 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 myself, 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.'