Cell (32 page)

There was a hush in the room. The enormity of their task
had dawned on them. Tweed studied each of them. He had jerked them out of any complacency. They were in a state
of shock.

He dialled the private number of the Ministry of Security.
Of course it would be Palfry who answered, an irritable
Palfry.

'Tweed here. I need to know the present whereabouts of
the Minister.'

'That's classified information . . .'

'Haven't you received a copy of the PM's directive?'

'Yes. So has the Minister . . .'

'So where is he? Tell me now if you want to keep
your job.'

'As far as I know he's at home in his residence in
Belgravia.'

'Dammit! Do you
know
he's there?'

'Yes . . .'

'Thank you.'

Tweed put down the phone, got up to put on his raincoat.
He spoke as he put it on.

'I must first see Warner, assure myself of his co
operation . . .'

The phone rang. Monica listened, then waved at Tweed.

'Someone to see you downstairs . . .'

'I'm not in. Get rid of them.'

'It's Eva Brand.'

'Oh.' Tweed paused. 'Ask her to wait a minute.' His
gaze scanned the room. 'This is no time for anyone to be sitting around. Marler, get cracking and interrogate Martin Hogarth. This is not a situation calling for finesse.'

'Got you,' replied Marler. 'I'll phone him first to make sure he's up at Carpford. Won't say anything when he
answers.'

'Harry,' Tweed snapped, 'you get down into Soho to that
place where Bob warned that call girl a brute was on the way
up to her apartment. Belles, wasn't it? Chat to people there
about rumours of an attack on London. See if you can pick
up anything. Then tackle the girls in the street. They often know things.'

'I'm on my way,' said Harry and left.

'Pete,' Tweed went on, speaking fast, 'you go up to
Carpford separately from Marler. Tackle that Margesson.
Not gently. Bob will draw a map showing you where he
hangs out.'

'Martin's in residence,' Marler reported. 'Give me a sheet
of paper, Paula, then I can show Pete
Margesson's pad.'

Tweed threw off his raincoat and Monica caught it in
mid-air. He went back to his desk and sat thinking
for a minute. By the time he asked for Eva to be shown up
everyone had gone except Newman.

'Bob,' Tweed said suddenly, 'I want you to prowl Covent
Garden, near that Monk's Alley where poor Eddie was found mutilated.'

'I'll do that later.' Newman held up his hand as Tweed
was going to rap back. 'No argument. I'm driving you over
to Warner's penthouse. There have been two attempts to
kill you already.'

'If you must. How long did it take us to drive back last
time from Warner's place?'

'At least half an hour. Traffic.'

'So, if Eva has come from there, she'd be at the penthouse
half an hour ago.'

'No, she wouldn't,' Monica objected. 'I heard a motor
cycle pull up before I heard she was downstairs. I peered out
of the window and saw her parking it by the kerb outside.
She'd get here like the wind.'

'Motorcycle,' Tweed repeated slowly. 'Those couriers which arrive after dark in Carpford. I've just remembered
reading a newspaper report about Afghanistan. The North
ern Alliance lot were closing in on Kandahar. Omar, the
key Afghan who worked closely with Osama bin Laden,
escaped from Kandahar just in time. On a motor-cycle.
Al-Qa'eda seems to like those machines.' He gazed into
the distance, lost in his thoughts, then sat up. 'Ask Eva to
come up now.'

Paula was still at her desk when Eva Brand walked in. She
had kept quiet, determined to accompany Tweed on his visit to the Minister's home.

Eva Brand was dressed in a black trouser suit, the
bottoms tucked inside her motor-cycle boots. Motoring
gloves tucked under her arms. At Tweed's request she sat
down in an armchair facing him. He greeted her with an amiable smile, the first time he'd smiled since returning from the PM.

'It's good to see you again. Looking as delectable as ever.
You bring good news?'

'Flattery will get you somewhere, as the girl said to the
predator. And I bring bad news. Which is why I hared
over here.'

'Something has happened?'

'In a big way. Victor has blown his top after receiving the new mandate ordering him to work under you. I've
never known him so livid. Striding about his office like
a maniac. Lifting up vases to alter their position, then
hammering them down on table tops. He actually broke
one in his fury. He's going to block you off. He's going
to phone the PM and ask him to cancel the mandate. Says
the idea of working under you will make him look such a
fool in the Cabinet.'

'Really?'

'Yes, really. And he's appointed Tolliver as Acting Chief
of Special Branch in Buller's absence. Disappearance.'

'Tolliver? Not brilliant but he does what he's told, which
can be a help. I appreciate your coming to tell me.'

'I hope I've got his reaction across to you strongly enough.
He's acting like Captain Bligh when he realized he had a
mutiny on the
Bounty.'

'I think I get the picture. Again, I appreciate your taking
the trouble to dash over here.'

'That's all right.' Eva stood up, very tall and erect. She
glanced at her watch. 'And I'd better dash back again before
he realizes I've gone out.' She looked over her shoulder
at Paula. 'We must have dinner, lunch, tea or something
together.'

'I'll call you soon as I can,' Paula replied with a smile.

Then, like a whirlwind, Eva was gone. Paula looked
across at Tweed.

'Don't forget I'm coming with you.'

'I was going to give you a job.'

He glared ferociously at her. She glared back. Newman
suppressed a grin. When these two battled these days it was
worth sitting back to enjoy the duel. Paula got up, put on
her windcheater. There was a sound from the street of a
motor-cycle starting up. Monica peered, out. Eva, at speed,
was swinging her machine over at a dangerous angle, saw
the main road was clear, disappeared.

'Bob, we can go now,' Tweed said, putting on his rain
coat.

He walked out, followed by Newman with Paula at his
heels. During the drive Tweed sat in the back with Paula
by his side. They said not one word to each other. Inwardly
Newman was choking with laughter.

* * *

Mrs Carson, the housekeeper, opened the door, her
expression disagreeable and unwelcoming. She folded her
arms. In the background Paula saw Eva approaching. She
had changed her boots for pumps.

'What is it?' Mrs Carson demanded.

'We have come to see the Minister.'

'You have an appointment?'

'I'll show them up,' said Eva, appearing beside Mrs
Carson. 'You'd better get back to the kitchen - a pot is
about to boil over.'

Mrs Carson stomped off, a door banged. Tweed walked
in with Paula. Newman had parked the car out of sight
round a corner and stayed with it. Eva led the way to the
study, via the elevator, knocked on the door.

'Who the hell is it?' Warner's voice barked.

'Someone to see you,' Eva replied as she opened the door
and ushered Tweed and Paula inside. Warner was seated
on a high-backed chair on an elevated platform with two
chairs in front and below the desk. He swivelled round in the
chair, saw who had entered, hastily placed a batch of papers
in a red box and slammed the lid closed. One document remained in front of him, the directive from the PM.

'I'm surprised you have the nerve to show your face here,'
he sneered, adjusting his pince-nez.

Tweed walked forward, occupied one of the chairs, gestured for Paula to sit in the one beside him. The fact
that Warner was so lean and tall and perched above them
gave him a dominant position.

'I'm sure you won't mind if my personal assistant is with
me,' Tweed suggested quietly.

'Oh, no,' Warner sneered again. 'I appreciate you take
your consort with you everywhere.'

Inside her gloves Paula's fingers clenched. She could have
killed him. Her expression remained neutral.
Eva was still
standing by the open door. Warner glanced at her.

'Don't just stand there, Eva. You might as well come in and join the party. There was a time when women, if allowed into the system, occupied only junior positions. In those days they were clerks and pen-pushers. The system seemed to work more smoothly then.'

Eva had picked up a chair. She placed it next to Paula's,
sat down, clasped her hands in her lap.

'A visitor from Whitehall has just informed me there is
an air of panic abroad,' Tweed remarked.

Eva shifted slightly and nudged Paula. She was express
ing appreciation that Tweed was covering for her. Warner sat up straight, glaring viciously at Tweed as he took hold
of the directive from Downing Street, waved it in front of
Tweed.

'You know what this is,' he rasped. 'I see copies have
been sent to all heads of security services. Even to the
MoD.' His voice rose, was savagely harsh. 'You think I'm
going to put up with this absurd idea? It means I have to
take my orders from you! Well, I'm not going to. It is the
most outrageous document I have ever seen since entering
government. Christ! I'm a senior member of the Cabinet.
Also I'm in charge of security - or I was!' he shouted. 'I am
going to phone the PM.'

'That is your privilege, Minister,' Tweed replied equably.

Paula frowned. She was taken aback. She had expected
Tweed to thunder back. Especially after his combative mood at Park Crescent.

'I'm glad you appreciate that,' Warner commented, his
voice several decibels lower.'

'Minister,' Tweed leaned forward, his manner calm,
'I was hoping - still believe you will agree - that we
can cooperate in this desperate situation. I look forward to a state of collaboration between us. We do have a
common enemy. With our combined forces we will defeat
that enemy.'