Hamilton led the way into another, much smaller cavern. Side by side at the far end lay two stone sarcophagi. Above each was a plain pine board with poker-burnt inscriptions.
Hamilton said: ‘A friend of mine did those, Von Manteuffel. Jim Clinton. Remember Jim Clinton? You should. After all, you murdered him shortly afterwards. Read them. Read them aloud.’
Still in the same odd sightless fashion Von Manteuffel looked slowly around, looked at Hamilton, and read: ‘Dr Hannibal Huston. R.I.P.’
‘And the other?’ Hamilton said.
‘Lucy Huston Hamilton. Beloved wife of John , Hamilton. R.I.P.’
Everyone stared at Hamilton. Shocked comprehension came slowly but it came.
Von Manteuffel said: ‘I am a dead man.’
Hamilton, with Ramon and Navarro, Von Manteuffel and the others trudging along closely behind, made their way to a helicopter which was parked at the edge of the courtyard only yards from the rim of the plateau. Suddenly Von Manteuffel, wrists still handcuffed behind his back, ran towards the edge of the cliff. Ramon started after him, but Hamilton caught him by the arm.
‘Let him be. You heard what he said. He’s a dead man.’
THE END