The House Of The Bears by John Creasey Page A

taking the same road. One party of schoolchildren made a crocodile fifty yards long on the happy trek to the wonders of the caves – wonders announced on notice-boards and in shop-windows and by a hoarse-voiced man who stood at a corner, showing sightseers the way.
    ‘Did you see the snub-nosed chap?’ Palfrey asked Drusilla, ‘That nose was in London, not far behind us when we stopped for lunch, and this very minute has gone into the post office.’
    ‘So we’ve been followed,’ said Drusilla. ‘Do you know who it is?’
    ‘I haven’t the faintest notion. Stranger to me. Dark hair, dark jowl, a bit of Corshire about him, I shouldn’t wonder. I always knew that my treatment of Kyle got under Hardy’s skin.’
    ‘That wasn’t surprising,’ said Drusilla.
    ‘No. I wonder if Mac’s here yet?’
    ‘He’s probably been waiting since dawn,’ said Drusilla.
    McDonald, on being told of their decision, had expressed himself delighted. It had been agreed that he should go on ahead and meet them at the cottage with a parrot in the window. McDonald seemed to enjoy the prospect of a mysterious journey and encounter with the American.
    ‘There’s a green cottage,’ said Drusilla, her voice rising.
    ‘One green cottage, two green cottages,’ murmured Palfrey, looking towards the left of the road. In front of them were the great cliffs of the gorge rising like bulky, forbidding sentinels, dark grey and light intermingling, some scrub and grass on the lower slopes, but the higher bleak and bare.
    The cottages stood close together a little way ahead of them. Outside was a notice-board offering eggs and bacon and chips for 3s. 6d. There was a small queue outside the door.
    ‘There it is!’ exclaimed Drusilla, and moved her arm as if to point.
    Palfrey held it by her side.
    ‘Don’t forget Snub-nose,’ he said. ‘But you’re right, begod, there’s a parrot.’
    They passed the window where the parrot was squatting. It was the cottage which offered bacon and eggs and chips, and there was no chance of getting in immediately. Palfrey glanced at his watch; they had ten minutes to spare.
    ‘What shall we do?’ asked Drusilla. ‘We must be here at half past two.’
    ‘The truth is that I’m worried about Snub. I don’t mind being followed, but I don’t want him to see where we go, and there isn’t much chance of losing him here. We could go for a long walk, but that would make us too late, and – Oh-ho!’ He broke off, with a gleam in his eyes. ‘It’s a simple matter, really. Most things are. The caves. Crowded with sightseers. See the queue waiting to go in – not a large one. We will tag ourselves on the end of it. I believe it’s dark inside.’
    ‘They have lights.’
    ‘Not everywhere, surely.’
    They joined the queue. It was longer than he had thought, for the cave entrance was up steps and the steps were lined with people.
    ‘It’s twenty-five past two,’ said Drusilla.
    ‘And Snub has joined the queue,’ said Palfrey. ‘He’s seven people removed. Hallo, we’re moving!’
    Coins were rattling in the pay-box. A guide was calling out into the road: ‘Hurry up, now. The next tour is about to start.’
    Palfrey put down a two-shilling piece and hurried with the rest of the crowd through a narrow entrance, dimly lighted, at the beginning of the cave. A guide was regimenting the people and giving instructions.
    ‘Is Snub here?’
    ‘Just coming in, and looking anxious,’ said Palfrey. ‘He’ll look more anxious in a moment. Isn’t it lovely and dark in front?’
    ‘You needn’t worry about the darkness,’ said the guide. ‘I’ll switch the lights on as we go through. It wouldn’t do to keep them on all the time, you see, except a few pilot lights. It’d spoil the effect.’
    A single dim light cast a diffused glow. The crowd, nearly sixty strong, was gathering about the guide. Some distance ahead there was another glimmer of light. The guide, with the natural showman’s gift,