Cell (49 page)

One of the frogmen had arrived. He had taken off his
helmet, exposing red hair plastered to his skull where
water had dripped off the helmet when he removed it.
He addressed his remark to Paula.

'Only one of those in this job. Two of them in the other
van we hauled out upriver.'

'Like to look at that one in a minute,' suggested Beaurain.

'I know they used four vans,' Tweed said, standing up.
'Tell you how I found that out later.'

'Four vans,' Beaurain repeated. 'That suggests to me about six devices brought down here.'

'And six barges,' Tweed said almost under his breath.

They drove to where the second van had been hauled out. A
short distance away was a large winch machine with a drum
holding a cable. At the tip of the cable was a strong hook.

Both rear doors were open and again Paula was the first to leap inside it. She swivelled her torch slowly round the floor. By its light she saw another four screw-holes to the
right side of the vehicle and near the back. Further in, nearer
the front, she found four more, this time to the left side.

Again she used her ruler to check measurements. She
looked up at Beaurain.

'Same as in Van One. Don't see why the two holding
points are on different sides of this van.'

'Balance,' he said. 'Assume they drove a distance to bring
the devices here. In this van having one device at the right
side, the other at the left - and spaced apart - it would give balance. The devices must weigh a lot. We know they do.
Mrs Wharton said it took six men to carry one from the van to the motorized trolley.'

'You've had lab experts go over the floors?' Tweed asked
Warden.

'Yes, sir. Nothing. No fingerprints. The only element
they noticed was a smell of a strong cleaning material.'

'That's it then.' Tweed looked at Buchanan. 'Now both
vans must be shoved back into the river, the way they were.'

'What?'

The exclamation came from the red-haired frogman who
had spoken to Paula earlier. He looked appalled.

'Sorry,' Tweed said firmly. 'But the dangerous villains involved may send a man back to make sure the vans are
no longer visible. The tide has risen. We can't take a chance
on this one.'

'Do it, Warden,' Buchanan ordered. 'Quickly. And move
that winching apparatus out of the area. Now. Under
stood?'

'Yes, sir . . .'

They went back to the car and Beaurain drove them back
to Park Crescent. The mist was clearing as they reached the
track and turned up it to head back for the main road. As it
did so Paula glanced down the track, wondering what hell
might be going on at the power station.

Ali was supervising operations on the three barges moored
on the east side of the wharf, the side the team led by Tweed
and Buchanan could not see while checking the vans. The hard cover had been rolled over the interior of the barge.
Before this action had taken place Ali had insisted the
small wheels attached to the underside of the cover were oiled. This had been planned earlier - so when the cover's
wheels were rolled along the rail-like tracks on either side
they would make no noise.

As six of his men carried the device to place it in position,
he climbed the ladder to the main hatchway, which was
open. He peered down, gesturing for them to place the device in the perfect position - below the hatch opening.
The hatch was more than wide enough to allow safe passage
when the huge bomb lifted off its base, streaked through the
hatch, aimed with all its explosive power at the target.

He descended the ladder - which would later be thrown
overboard - and ordered them to screw the base plate firmly
to the bottom of the barge. When they had completed the task he picked up a screwdriver, tried to tighten the four
screws at each corner of the plate. He couldn't move any of
the screws. This barge was ready, as were the two alongside
it. Ali had been chosen by Abdullah for his meticulous
attention to detail.

'Now we deal with the other three barges,' he ordered.
'It will be foggy so no danger of anyone seeing us.'

He had listened to the weather forecast for the next day. Very cold, no overcast, clear skies. They would have no
trouble seeing the targets. Allah was on their side.

38

Marler had been waiting half an hour, parked in Belgravia where he could see the exit from Warner's penthouse. He
had earlier phoned the Ministry, asked for Eva Brand when Palfry answered.

'She's not here,' Palfry had replied in his superior Civil Service voice. 'Who is this speaking?'

'Not urgent,' Marler had said abruptly and put down
the phone.

His next call had been to Warner's penthouse. It was Eva
who had answered. Saying nothing, Marler had hung up,
now he knew where she was. So he had waited patiently. Little over half an hour later she had appeared at the front door, wearing a blue overcoat over her black trouser suit.
She had closed the door, then stood there, scanning the
area. Marler knew she would never see him and guessed his brief phone-call had alerted her. Smart lady.

She suddenly ran down the steps, ran to a blue Saab,
dived inside, switched on the headlights and moved off. Marler followed her cautiously. He soon realized she was
heading for Whitehall. Going back to the Ministry? No. She turned down a side street, stopped outside a small
restaurant which had a chalked board advertising
Tea. Coffee. Full meal if required.

Leaving her Saab parked half on the pavement, she had
gone inside the place. Marler adjusted his rear-view mirror,
put on a pair of spectacles with blank lenses, a peaked hat
on his head. His appearance was transformed. He followed
her inside.

He had a surprise. A man was just pulling out a chair for
her. Palfry, smirking. He sat opposite her. Marler chose a
table giving him a good view of them. Only Tweed at the
SIS knew that Marler had trained himself as an expert lip-reader. The place was half empty. He removed his hat
and ordered coffee when the waitress arrived. He could make out most of their conversation.

'I'm worried about Victor,' she said,

'Why? He's as fit as a fiddle. You know.' He pretended
to play a fiddle with a solemn expression. She laughed
dutifully.

'But how long can he keep it up?' she persisted. She kept
quiet while their waitress served them both coffee. She continued as soon as they were alone. 'He pushes himself to the
limit. He gets very little sleep. In the evenings he's always
dashing off up to his place in Carpford. No guards.'

'What do you mean?' Palfry asked, managing to look
worried.

'One of his guards told me they got into a car in the evening and followed him when he'd told them he didn't
need them. He pulled into a lay-by on the A3, flagged them
down. Then he gave them hell, said when he needed them he'd tell them and they could just drive straight back to
London. Did you know this?'

'Not my job to tag along when he doesn't want me. Occasionally I do travel with him to Garda, his place in
the village. And I always carry a revolver.'

'Could you use the damned thing if it came to it?' she
snapped.

'Well . . .' He smirked. 'Probably end up shooting
myself.'

'A lot of use that is,' she snapped. 'Go up there on your
own sometimes? You've got that great big tub-like house.
Must be room for twenty guests upstairs.'

'Well, sometimes I have a party. Maybe twenty guests.
They can end up blotto so not fit to drive. Then I can give them sleeping accommodation for the night. Ask you up
some time.'

'Drunken orgies aren't my style.'

'They're hardly that,' he protested. 'You could come up on your own one evening.' He smiled knowingly.

'That's not my style either. Now, getting back to why I
asked you to meet me here. Victor
is
under great pressure
and it's showing. He gets bad-tempered with me. Not that I can't handle that. I can. I thought you ought to know.'
She leaned forward, 'And if you ever tell Victor about this
meeting I'll see your job goes down the drain. Now, pay
the tab and leave. We don't want anyone seeing us together
outside. Go on.'

Meekly, Palfry paid the bill and walked out, looking
baffled. He passed close to Marler's table without noticing
him. Eva then stood up, put on her overcoat, walked
towards the exit. She stopped by Marler's table.

'Why are you following me, Marler?'

'For protection. How did you know?'

'You're pretty good.' She gave him her warmest smile.
'I spotted you only once. Don't forget my time with
Medfords. I was trained to follow people myself - and
to know when someone was following me.' She smiled
again. 'At least you weren't able to eavesdrop on our
conversation.'

'Hardly close enough.'

'It would have bored you.' She picked up his hat, put
it on his head back to front, giggled. 'You do look funny.
Take care.' She bent down, kissed him on the cheek and
was gone.

Marler didn't think it had been the moment to ask her
out to dinner. In any case, he wanted to get back to report
their conversation to Tweed.

* * *

At Park Crescent Tweed had decided to call Dixon, the
millionaire owner of the power station. He had spoken to
him earlier.

'I've just spoken to Harry,' Nield spoke up. 'He's happy to keep on guarding Billy Hogarth but maybe I ought to
relieve him.'

'Stay here while I make this call . . . Mr Dixon, this is
Tweed again. The drug dealers we thought might be near
your power station are elsewhere. Everything all right at the
wharf?'

'Proctor, the guard I mentioned to you, told me over the
phone everything is normal. So nothing to worry about. After
all-night duty he'll be glad to get back to his wife in Balham.'

'His wife lives in Balham? Give me a moment. . .'

Tweed sat thinking. He doodled on his pad, decided, picked up the phone again.

'Mr Dixon. This is highly confidential. The big operation
to trap key drug dealers is taking place in Balham. Our men
are armed. I don't want to risk upsetting Mrs Proctor.
Would you mind giving me her address? Then we won't call at her house.'