Read Online The Savage Gorge by Colin Forbes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Colin Forbes
Ads: Link
is limitless. He is just play-acting . . .'
Paula pursed her lips as she watched MacBlade walk casually to the house.
'We have just seen the real Pit Bull,' she said grimly.
EIGHT
'I'd like to go for a walk on the moor,' Paula decided, 'to get that horror story Bullerton revelled in out of my mind. There are more steps at the end of the terrace.'
' I’ll come with you,' said Tweed. 'There's stony ground higher up. I'll get our motoring gloves out of the car. Then if we trip up we won't rip our hands . . .'
They walked a long way across recently trimmed grass, then the slope began. So did the rough ground, littered with stones of different colours. Paula, wearing her gloves, reached the edge of the moor first. Behind her, Tweed, who had a very sensitive nose for odours, pulled a face.
Paula eased her way along a narrow path between tall gorse bushes with blackened stems. There were few yellow blooms and even they were drooping. There was something unpleasant about the atmosphere.
'Not like the Yorkshire moors,' Tweed commented.
He used his gloved hand to grasp a handful of gorse, raised it to his nose. The gorse had a greasy feel. They pushed on through the winding path until they reached the top. Along a flat stretch ran a narrow-gauge railway.
'What's this?' Paula asked.
She had bent down to where the last gorse bushes enclosed the path on both sides. She hauled out a long thick steel rod with a wide flat steel top. Tweed peered over her shoulder.
'That,' he told her, 'is like the pillars they once used in coal mines to support the roofs in deep tunnels. And beyond that little railway there are deep runnels in the ground - as though made by heavy trucks.'
'That nauseous smell. What is it?' she wondered.
'Probably from an industrial plant beyond the ridge over there. Belching out pollution, which it shouldn't.'
'I don't like this place. It's creepy.'
Tweed didn't hear her. He was returning downhill along the path at an incredible rate. She followed slowly, watching her footing. Near the bottom of the path she noticed dead gorse piled up in a large heap. Bending down, she carefully removed the branches and foliage. Reaching the ground level she stared.
She had exposed the entrance to a large tunnel. It comprised a new steel pipe at least three feet in dia meter. Taking out a torch, she shone it into the tunnel, which gradually went lower and lower. The metal was perfectly clean.
She rearranged the concealing gorse over the entrance. As she stood up she noticed a large boulder near the end of the path. A marker?
Tweed was far below, heading for Hobart House. The moment she reached the grass her legs flew to catch him up. Out of breath, she arrived to find him standing at the Audi. She was on the verge of men tioning the tunnel when she saw his absorbed expression.
They were driving back up the curving road when she looked back to catch a glimpse of the beauty of the Georgian house. It had the outward appearance of a dream house.
'I sensed deceit and evil inside that house,' she mused.
'They do say that the family can be the bloodiest battlefield,' he replied as though his mind was on something else.
'I noticed that Sable decided not to come out onto the terrace. I suspect she sensed her father's change of mood.'
'Possibly. The strange thing is this case started out with the bestial murder of two women in London. Which is why we came up here. Now I wonder.'
'You wonder what?'
'I'm not being fanciful. You know that's not my style. Now I really do wonder.'
'Wonder what?' she persisted.
'We may by chance have walked in on something which is bigger, much bigger than I ever foresaw.'
NINE
They were driving slowly along the hedge-lined lane
leading to the Village when Paula glanced at the slim
leather executive case Tweed had taken into Hobart
House but had never opened.
'That wouldn't contain those photos Hector gave
you - the pics of the two murdered women looking
normal?' 'It does.' 'I'm
Paula pursed her lips as she watched MacBlade walk casually to the house.
'We have just seen the real Pit Bull,' she said grimly.
EIGHT
'I'd like to go for a walk on the moor,' Paula decided, 'to get that horror story Bullerton revelled in out of my mind. There are more steps at the end of the terrace.'
' I’ll come with you,' said Tweed. 'There's stony ground higher up. I'll get our motoring gloves out of the car. Then if we trip up we won't rip our hands . . .'
They walked a long way across recently trimmed grass, then the slope began. So did the rough ground, littered with stones of different colours. Paula, wearing her gloves, reached the edge of the moor first. Behind her, Tweed, who had a very sensitive nose for odours, pulled a face.
Paula eased her way along a narrow path between tall gorse bushes with blackened stems. There were few yellow blooms and even they were drooping. There was something unpleasant about the atmosphere.
'Not like the Yorkshire moors,' Tweed commented.
He used his gloved hand to grasp a handful of gorse, raised it to his nose. The gorse had a greasy feel. They pushed on through the winding path until they reached the top. Along a flat stretch ran a narrow-gauge railway.
'What's this?' Paula asked.
She had bent down to where the last gorse bushes enclosed the path on both sides. She hauled out a long thick steel rod with a wide flat steel top. Tweed peered over her shoulder.
'That,' he told her, 'is like the pillars they once used in coal mines to support the roofs in deep tunnels. And beyond that little railway there are deep runnels in the ground - as though made by heavy trucks.'
'That nauseous smell. What is it?' she wondered.
'Probably from an industrial plant beyond the ridge over there. Belching out pollution, which it shouldn't.'
'I don't like this place. It's creepy.'
Tweed didn't hear her. He was returning downhill along the path at an incredible rate. She followed slowly, watching her footing. Near the bottom of the path she noticed dead gorse piled up in a large heap. Bending down, she carefully removed the branches and foliage. Reaching the ground level she stared.
She had exposed the entrance to a large tunnel. It comprised a new steel pipe at least three feet in dia meter. Taking out a torch, she shone it into the tunnel, which gradually went lower and lower. The metal was perfectly clean.
She rearranged the concealing gorse over the entrance. As she stood up she noticed a large boulder near the end of the path. A marker?
Tweed was far below, heading for Hobart House. The moment she reached the grass her legs flew to catch him up. Out of breath, she arrived to find him standing at the Audi. She was on the verge of men tioning the tunnel when she saw his absorbed expression.
They were driving back up the curving road when she looked back to catch a glimpse of the beauty of the Georgian house. It had the outward appearance of a dream house.
'I sensed deceit and evil inside that house,' she mused.
'They do say that the family can be the bloodiest battlefield,' he replied as though his mind was on something else.
'I noticed that Sable decided not to come out onto the terrace. I suspect she sensed her father's change of mood.'
'Possibly. The strange thing is this case started out with the bestial murder of two women in London. Which is why we came up here. Now I wonder.'
'You wonder what?'
'I'm not being fanciful. You know that's not my style. Now I really do wonder.'
'Wonder what?' she persisted.
'We may by chance have walked in on something which is bigger, much bigger than I ever foresaw.'
NINE
They were driving slowly along the hedge-lined lane
leading to the Village when Paula glanced at the slim
leather executive case Tweed had taken into Hobart
House but had never opened.
'That wouldn't contain those photos Hector gave
you - the pics of the two murdered women looking
normal?' 'It does.' 'I'm
Similar Books
