Cell (41 page)

'Sorry.' Paula clasped her hands in prayer to apologize.

'Why?' Eva asked with a smile. 'Proves you are an
astute observer. And I could do a lot better than that if
I wanted to.'

At the far end of the table a charade was taking place. To
cover his confusion Warner was opening files, pretending to
consult with Tolliver. The door opened and Palfry walked in holding a large tray with chinaware and a cafetiere. He
distributed the cups and saucers while Mrs Carson carried
another tray to the other end of the table. Palfry placed his last item close to Eva.

'The cafetiere,' he said.

'I do know what it is,' she replied without looking
at him.

They drank coffee and then talked some more. After a
while Warner called out in a far more civilized voice.

'So, we are agreed?'

'Agreed that we continue taking the precautions already
put in train,' Tweed said firmly. 'Are Special Branch
officers in their camel-hair coats patrolling prominently?
Outside Buckingham Palace, St Paul's, Canary Wharf -and in force along the Thames Embankment?'

'Your general suggestions have been followed,' Warner
replied. 'I think we have now covered everything.'

'We have.' Tweed jumped up. 'Thank you for your
hospitality and now we will leave.'

Palfry hurried down the room to unlock the door. As
Paula walked out with Eva, Beaurain and Newman followed, Warner strode down the room, plucked at Tweed's
sleeve.

'A word with you in private, please, Mr Tweed.'

'You go down to the car,' Tweed called out to his team. 'I will follow in a minute.'

Warner, his expression grave, closed the door. His man
ner towards Tweed was now polite, even respectful.

'There is a most worrying problem you should know about. In my organization there is a traitor. A top secret
file has been stolen. Contains names of al-Qa'eda suspects
now held at Dover.'

'Any idea who it might be?'

'None at all. It's most disturbing. Better go now.'

Tweed opened the door and nearly bumped into Eva,
who was just outside. She appeared to be studying a file. She looked up and smiled.

'I'll escort you to the elevator.'

'No need, thank you. I know the way by now.'

He shook hands with Warner then walked slowly to the elevator. Before pressing the button he glanced back down
the corridor, sensing someone was there. Twenty yards
away Eva stood, watching him. She tucked the file under
her arm and waved. Tweed waved back, pressed the button,
the doors opened.

Afterwards he could not remember stepping into the
elevator or riding down in it. He stood by himself, his
face fixed as though in stone. Could it be possible? Later he couldn't even remember stepping out of the elevator.

Could it be possible?

32

Arriving back at Park Crescent in drizzling rain, they were
surprised to see Buchanan's unmarked police car parked
near their entrance. Tweed hurried up to his office, followed
by Paula, Beaurain and Newman. Buchanan stood up,
smiling.

'Well, how did the great war conference go?'

'Waste of time,' Beaurain told him. 'If Warner is typi
cal of your ministers, they're almost as bad as those in
Brussels.'

'Don't agree with you, Jules,' Tweed said. 'I found it
most illuminating. Provided more links in the chain I'm building up. Trouble is vital links are missing. Do sit
everyone.'

Paula realized he wasn't going to enlighten them. Not to
be cryptic but because he hadn't decided whether he was
right yet.

'What brings you here, Roy?' Tweed asked.

'We have a witness. You remember calling me about
those five missing milk tankers? I did take notice. A few
days ago I told Warden to call all the radio stations in
the Midlands to ask them if anyone who had information
would get in touch - information about the missing
tankers. One alert lady phoned one station and they
informed the locals who, in turn called me. A Mrs Sharp
had phoned. I got her number, called her and asked her
if she'd come to London to the Yard. Expenses would be
paid. Hearing from the Yard excited her and she arrived
this morning. After listening to her I brought her over
here. She's waiting in that room facing your guard.'

'Monica, ask her to come up,' Tweed ordered.

'Here we go,' said Marler, standing near Paula's desk.

The door was opened by George, the guard, who stood
aside and ushered in Mrs Sharp. In her sixties, tall, slim
and smartly dressed, her white hair was elegantly coiffeured.
Tweed went to meet her, extending his hand.

'We do appreciate your making this journey. Have you
come a long way?'

'I live in the village of Gifford, near Milton Keynes, but
in the country.'

She saw Buchanan, also standing, walk over to a wall map of England. She joined him. Her firm index finger
pointed to Gifford. Buchanan circled it with a red pen.

'Oldhurst Farm,' she went on, 'is here. It's been aban
doned for years. The farmer went bankrupt. It has two huge barns, a smaller one, near the farmhouse, and is approached
down a neglected lane.'

Buchanan made another red circle. Tweed then asked
her to sit in one of the armchairs facing his desk.

'I think Mrs Sharp should tell you her story as she told it to me,' Buchanan suggested.

'Then we'll get it right,' she said with a wicked smile at
Buchanan.

She struck Tweed as very well educated, her voice decisive
and crisp. A woman of considerable intelligence. He gave
her his full attention.

'It would be three nights ago,' she began. 'I hope I have
got
that
right. I've been so busy. At three in the morning I was driving back home down the road past Oldhurst Farm.
I had been to see my sister who was unwell. Now recovered.
As I reached the corner just before the entrance to the farm
- I was driving slowly - I was startled to see a large milk
tanker turn down that lane . . .'

'Any name on it?' asked Tweed.

'If there was I didn't see it. You see I was just in time to
see it turning in. I was worried. I immediately thought of the
remote farm used years ago by the Great Train robbers. So I waited, kept my engine ticking over. Then a few minutes later a small white van drove out. I did see the wording on
its side. Florist.'

'An old van?'

'No, brand new. Luckily it turned in the opposite direc
tion from where I waited . . .'

'Direction south-east, towards London,' Buchanan inter
jected. 'And the Ml is not so far away. Would
take the van
into the heart of London. Sorry to interrupt, Mrs Sharp.'

'That's all right. I'm getting the impression this could
be important. On the way down in the train I read Drew
Franklin's gossip column. Always do. He's malicious about
people, I know, but so entertaining. Now, I think I've told
you all I can, so . . .'

'So,' said Tweed, standing up, 'have you ever had tea
at Brown's Hotel? It is an experience you won't find
elsewhere.'

'No, I haven't. Oh, one more thing. I mentioned the
three, no, the
two
large barns at Oldhurst Farm. There
is a third, smaller barn behind them. Think I mentioned it.'

'Marler,' said Tweed, 'would you be good enough to
escort Mrs Sharp for tea at Brown's?' He glanced at his
watch, was appalled to see it was afternoon. 'They'll have
started serving by the time you get there.'

'I'm going to enjoy this,' said Marler with one of his rare warming smiles. 'Afterwards I can drive you to the station
to take you back. No, it's no trouble at all.'

'No trouble indeed,' agreed Tweed. 'Mrs Sharp, have
you told anyone else about this except Superintendent
Buchanan?'

'Absolutely no one. When I was asked to phone the
Yard I knew it could be serious. You can rely on me to keep quiet. I'll even resist the temptation to tell my sister . . .'

Tweed thanked her again, escorted her to the door, fol
lowed by Marler. Before descending the stairs she turned,
smiled at Tweed.

'What a nice lady,' Paula commented.

'Shrewd too. What was that reference to Drew Franklin's
column about?'

Newman handed over the copy of the
Daily Nation
he
had been skip-reading after she'd made her remark. He
had ringed a paragraph.

Tweed began reading it, frowning as he read it once
more.

A large force of al-Qa'eda have come to town. Their
purpose? To launch a devastating attack on the capital,
an attack which will make September 11 look like a skirmish. As usual Our security chums are in a panic.
Just possible the SIS will save the day ~~ and London.
They are near professionals.

'Typically,' Tweed commented, 'dear Drew compli
ments us, then takes a swipe at us. Near professionals.'
He looked round the room. 'But this is going to drive Victor
Warner mad. He can't retaliate - the Ministry of Security
is not specifically mentioned.'

He passed the paper to Paula, who had left her desk and
was itching to read the paragraph. Tweed handed the paper
to her, then looked at Buchanan.

'Mrs Sharp. Perfect name for the lady. Are you acting on
what she told us?'

'Excuse me!' Buchanan was indignant. 'Before I left the
Yard I instructed Warden to check out Oldhurst Farm
immediately. He's got a marked map like the one I used
here. He's taking three patrol cars full of armed men. Strict
instructions from me not to use sirens or lights when they're
near the place.'

'They'll find the place empty,' Tweed predicted, 'but
they may find clues.'

'Manchester,' Newman said suddenly. 'Had a quiet
word with Marler while you were talking to Mrs Sharp.
As you know, he had been out trawling every inform
ant he could find. When he asked the top-
flight ones
they told him the word on the grapevine was that al-
Qa'eda is gearing itself up for some tremendous operation
on London. Only two second-raters said the target was
Manchester - both suspects I'm sure are fed by Special Branch. Manchester!'