Rhinoceros Read Online Free Page B

Nest. Two high wire gates barred the entrance to the curving drive beyond. At the far end of the drive it turned towards a very large white house built of stone. The architecture was surreal, like a collection of white blocks or cubes perched at different levels on top of each other. To one side rose a tall round tower. The entire edifice was located deep inside an old quarry, its steep sides overhanging the house.
    'Look!' Paula called out. 'There's something emerging from the round tower.'
    'I've seen it,' Tweed replied.
    Somewhere behind them was the muffled sound of a machine. Paula glanced back - just in time to see the crouched figure of a rider on a motorcycle. The machine was steadily negotiating its way up a steep path which, she guessed, led to the top of the Down overlooking the house.
    'That's Harry Butler,' Newman reassured her. 'He insisted on guarding my rear all the way from London . . .'
    He stopped speaking as a slim mast, like a submarine's periscope, its top a tangle of wired dishes, continued elevating until it was about twenty feet above the rim of the Down. Paula nudged Tweed.
    'Someone's coming along the drive at a rate of knots. Looks like an old woman carrying a rifle.'
    The hurrying figure appeared with astonishing speed on the far side of the closed gates. She stopped, her weapon, actually a shotgun, aimed at them. Her voice was harsh.
    'Who are you? Private property. Why are you here?'
    'Which question would you like me to answer first?' Tweed enquired mildly.
    She was wearing an old heavy 'dark coat. It almost reached her ankles and Paula wondered how she'd moved so fast in such a garment. She was hawk-nosed, bony- faced, in her sixties, a menacing figure.
    'Stop pointing that thing at us,' Newman ordered. 'Shotguns can go off almost by themselves. Want to spend the rest of your life in prison for murder?'
    'Can't frighten me,' she snarled, but she swivelled the gun to a port position and it fired harmlessly into the air.
    'See what I mean,' Newman shouted at her. 'Who are you?'
    'Mrs Grimwood. The . . . 'ousekeeper ... if you must know.'
    The shot had echoed a long distance in the cold night air, would have been heard inside the strange house. Tweed was ignoring the verbal confrontation, his eyes glued to the tall mast. Seconds after the shotgun went off the mast began to withdraw swiftly. It disappeared inside the tower, was gone.
    'Private property,' Airs Grimwood yelled.
    It was becoming like the repetition of an old gramo phone when the needle had got stuck. Tweed shrugged, wondering why Paula had slipped behind him earlier. The old crone opened up a fresh barrage.
    'That girl with you - 'as a camera. I want the film.'
    'No, I haven't,' Paula lied. 'Can't you recognize a pair of binoculars? Get your eyesight tested.' Silly old cow, she added to herself as Tweed went back towards the cars.
    They stood staring at the sea for a few minutes. Now it was like a sheet of crystal, flat, motionless. Paula heard the muffled sound of Harry Butler's machine return slowly down the path from the Down.
    'I've got a suggestion,' Newman said as he joined them. 'Harry's had a long tiring ride. I could squeeze his small motorcycle in my hatchback, let him drive your car, Tweed — then the three of us could drive back together and talk.'
    'Good idea,' Tweed agreed. 'Get your photo?' he asked Paula.
    'Photos. Half-hidden in the shadow beyond the house I saw a helipad - with a chopper on it. I got that as well as the mast. They certainly want to keep that thing - whatever it is - secret ...'

    They were driving back along the A27, heading for the distant turn-off towards Petworth. Newman was driving the hatchback with Tweed beside him and Paula in the rear. Behind them Butler was driving Tweed's car. Unsettled by their visit to Eagle's Nest, the atmosphere up on the Downs, they were silent for a few minutes. It was shortly after they had moved on to the A27 when Paula peered through the rear window.
    'There's a