Cell (24 page)

'Already happening,' Warner said harshly. 'I've been to Carpford -I have a home there - and Buchanan has dragged Carp Lake. His team worked with searchlights through the night . . .'

'And found what?'

'No need to be so aggressive, Tweed. We have to keep our heads. He discovered nothing - except tadpoles. And that with a very large team of divers. I told Buchanan he
had to clear the place up before
they left. . .'

'And how did he respond to that?'

'Said he had already ordered his men to do just that. So, a complete waste of time.'

'News is beginning to get into the papers,' Tweed
stormed, 'that there is a major threat to London. And
Buller's disappearance, linked to the other two, will appear in the
Daily Nation
tomorrow. Newman has written a large
article on these sinister events.'

'We could put a D notice on that,' warned the Minister.

'What on earth for? The public must be warned. It's not a state secret.'

'I just hope . . .' Warner paused to clean his pince-nez,
a trick Paula suspected he used to emphasize what was
coming next. He replaced the pince-nez, smiled unpleasantly.

'. . . As I was saying, I hope Newman hasn't gone wild and
produced something that will panic London!'

'He hasn't mentioned where the danger is coming from.
If that is what is unnerving you.'

'Nothing wrong with my nerves.' Again the twisted
smile. 'I do know we have to be on our guard against
the Real IRA.'

'We're going.' Tweed stood up with a face like thunder. 'I don't think we have anything more to say to each other.'
He paused near the door, Paula by his side, his tone
gentle. 'I just hope you will soon hear better news about
your wife.'

'Thank you. Most kind of you.'

Eva had joined them. 'I'll see them out,' she called back.

She closed the door and Mrs Carson, tight-lipped,
appeared. Eva smiled at her. 'I'm showing our visitors
out. I know you have so much to do.'

Mrs Carson glared, not pleased at what she considered
was her position being usurped. Without a word she walked
away, slammed a door behind her.

'She's a bit touchy,' Eva said with a smile. 'Since Victor
isn't often here she feels she has control here.' They had
stepped into the lift. Eva spoke rapidly as it descended. 'Mr Tweed, could I come to see you again at Park Crescent? I'd
phone first, of course.'

'Come at any time, please do.' Tweed was now his
amiable self. 'We can have lunch or dinner, if you like.'

'I would like.' She gave him a flashing smile.

'You were pretty tough,' Paula observed as Tweed got
behind the wheel of the car and Paula sat beside him.

'He gives a good impression that he hasn't a clue. What
did you think?' he asked as he manoeuvred into heavy
traffic.

'Totally clueless.'

* * *

Rush hour. The traffic was dense. At times they were
crawling, at others stationary for minutes, then there was movement. At Hyde Park Corner it became gridlock. It was dark now and cars' headlights glared everywhere. They were stationary.

'London is packed solid with people,' Paula commented.

'What did you say?'

'That London is packed solid with people. Ah, we're moving again.'

They were halfway round the Duke of Wellington's
statue and then stopped once more. A car was drawn up
alongside Paula. She glanced at the driver alone behind the
wheel, a brown-faced man, youngish with short hair. He
caught her glance, leaned out of his window and tapped
on hers with his left hand. She lowered her window, her
Browning already in her hand. As the traffic started moving his right hand appeared. The Glock pistol it held was aimed point blank at Tweed. She fired once. Her bullet hit his right
hand. Blood appeared, he dropped the Glock.

'Move!'
Paula shouted.

Traffic behind the gunman's car was honking as it stayed
where it was. Tweed swung his wheel, saw a gap, raced down Grosvenor Place. Paula looked back. The gunman's
car was still stationary. The honking of cars behind him
rose to a crescendo, then faded as Tweed continued driv
ing fast.

'He was going to kill you,' Paula gasped.

'Saw it all out of the corner of my eye. You were so
very quick. A significant event. Someone with a mobile
must have been watching Warner's house, reported we
were leaving.'

'Or someone inside the house. He looked Egyptian.'

21

Everyone was assembled in the first-floor office when
Tweed and Paula walked in. Newman was seated in
an armchair while Pete Nield perched on one of the
arms. Harry Butler sat cross-legged on the floor while
Marler leaned against a wall. Beaurain relaxed in the other
armchair, waved to Paula who walked over to her desk,
puzzled as to why the team was all present. Tweed seemed
to read her mind as, after hanging up his raincoat, he sat
behind his desk, his expression grim as he leaned forward.

'You were all asked to be here so we can see where
we are. The key element is we now know the enemy is al-Qa'eda. We have three confirmations of this dangerous development. Marler's top informant, Carla, told him this.
In Milan, Jasper Buller's link with the ex-carabinieri officer
told him the same thing. In Verona, Philip, a man I know
to be totally reliable, now masquerading as Petacci, told Jules the same thing. Three entirely different sources.' He slapped his hand hard on the desk. 'I now feel there is no doubt any more. The powerful cell which was located in Milan is now on our doorstep. Why? Obviously to launch
a September 11 attack on London . . .'

'Hadn't you better tell them about the attempt to kill
you?' suggested Paula.

'Thanks to you they didn't succeed . . .' He briefly
explained the incident at Hyde Park Corner. Newman
reacted instantly.

'From now on you don't go anywhere without an armed
guard.'

'We'll see about that. . .'

'No!' Newman was fierce. 'We won't see. That's how we'll proceed . . .'

'If you'll just let me continue. Al-Qa'eda is the menace, a formidable one. So what don't we know? Just
about
damn-all.' The hand slapped the desk again. 'We don't
know the target in London, we don't know where the cell
is located, we don't know who the mastermind is . . .'

'What about Carpford?' Nield interjected.

'If I may continue. At Carpford there isn't, so far as I
know, sufficient space to hide between twenty and thirty brainwashed killers . . .'

'We could check that out,' Newman interjected. 'Today
I bumped into a friend of mine who runs Airsight. An outfit with light aircraft equipped with high-power cameras. Used
by estate agents to get an aerial view of an area with rich
properties. He's also used confidentially by the MoD . . .'

'Then get him to fly over Carpford tomorrow and take
a lot of shots. Weather forecast is very good.'

'No can do tomorrow. He was on his way to Eurostar for
a two-day trip to Paris . . .'

'Then book him for the day after he gets back, for Heaven's sake. From now on I want calculated action!'
Tweed stared round, making sure he had everyone's close attention.
'Now, the other night I stayed up imagining I was the mastermind. How would I do the job? What would I aim for? Maximum casualties - scores? No. Hundreds or thousands of dead bodies. A spectacular. But don't anyone mention St Paul's or Canary Wharf. Do that and I'll throw the book at them . . .'

'Smoke and mirrors, as the Americans say,' Beaurain spoke for the first time. 'Decoys, as I said. To divert our
attention from the real target.'

'So we don't know anything,' Paula remarked.

'Actually we do.' Tweed's mood became relaxed. 'There
are some strange relationships we've discovered. Martin and Billy Hogarth, up at Carpford, are brothers, who apparently hate each other. They are cousins of Drew Franklin, a man we really know nothing about. Then there is Eva Brand, niece of Drew Franklin. A ring is beginning to form. Eva is also a companion of Peregrine Palfry. Furthermore we find she knows Victor Warner well enough to be welcome in his house. The ring widens . . .'

'May I tell you something?' Monica suggested quietly.

'By all means.' Tweed smiled. 'Go ahead.'

'The dossier I've drawn up on her confirms what she
told us when she appeared here out of the blue. Edu
cated at Roedean, went on to Oxford, studied languages
— French, Spanish and Arabic. While there her mother
was killed in a car crash on the M25. You see, this is
new data. Left Oxford and then there is a strange two-year
gap. Talked to her closest girlfriend and she had no idea where Eva was during those two years. Reappeared in
London, joined Medfords, which we know from what she
said . . .'

'What about her father?'

'The second info gap. Nobody seems to know who he
was, what he did. A girlfriend at Medfords told me she never talked about him. I ran out of contacts.'

'A mystery lady,' Tweed commented. 'Missing for two
years and no trace of a father. What about money?'

'I was coming to that. When her mother died she left
Eva half a million pounds. The mother came from a rich
family.'

'Hence her liking for good restaurants . . .'

He stopped speaking as the phone rang. Monica answered,
gave the phone to Tweed.

'It's Eva Brand on the phone . . .'

'Tweed here. I'm looking forward to our dinner together
tomorrow night.'

'That's why I'm phoning,' the soft voice replied. 'Could
I ask for a great favour? Could we dine tonight at seven? I
do hope I'm not being a nuisance. Something cropped up
for tomorrow - a friend from abroad.'

'That would be quite convenient. But instead of the Ivy
I'd like you to join me at Santini's. Do you know it? It has
a terrace extending out over the Thames.'

'Super! I haven't been there for ages. I could meet you
there. Same time suit you?'

'Seven at Santini's. Take care . . .'

He told the others of the change in his arrangements. His
expression hardened. 'While I'm having dinner with Eva
you will all be very active. We need positive information
about the main players in this drama. I no longer mind if
the people you'll be tracking know they're being followed.
It will put pressure on them. Under pressure people crack
— or make a mistake. Newman, you wait outside the
Daily
Nation
offices. Your target is Drew Franklin. You said he
works late. Take one of those advanced non-flash cameras,
photograph anyone he meets.'