He handed her the pic showing Fitch walking towards Newman, then three more. One showed the sign board of the Pig's Nest. Another of Fitch inside the pub talking to another man. There were two of the same view. Marler must have stood at the open door. He had a lot of nerve, Tweed thought as he handed her the last photos.
'I recognize Fitch at the bar,' she said. 'But not the thug he's drinking with.'
'Thug is too mild a word. That's Mugger Morgan, a very nasty piece of work. Buchanan once showed me a picture of him leaving court. Once again his lawyer had got him off a serious charge of brutal manslaughter. On a technicality. Newman caught Fitch trying to invade your home. He may try again. Wherever you go now you need someone with you from the team.'
'I think you're right.'
'And I'd better follow you home in my car.'
'Couldn't I stay in the spare bedroom tonight? I've done so before. I did bring some night things with me.'
'Good idea. Sleep well.'
She bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then headed for the spare bedroom. Tweed continued checking his files on agents operating abroad, recent reports. Nothing from Philip Cardon, who could be anywhere.
Paula reappeared in her pyjamas and dressing-gown.
'Any idea of what time it is?'
'I thought you'd be asleep.'
'My mind was churning over those photos and other developments. It's 2 a.m.' She placed both hands from behind him firmly on his shoulders. 'Up you get and off to bed.'
'I suppose you're right.' He suppressed a yawn. 'I need to be fresh for tomorrow, that is today in the morning.'
'Why?'
'We have a meeting with the Cabal at their HQ in Whitehall. The two of us. I want to study those three brothers.'
'Two brothers, one half-brother.' She increased the pressure on his shoulders. 'I want to see you actually go to bed.'
For discretion's sake, Paula left early, collected her car from behind Tweed's in the nearby mews where he'd rented space. When Tweed arrived three-quarters of an hour later the whole team was assembled in his office. Monica spoke up immediately.
'I've got someone hanging on the line you will want to talk to,' she said.
'Hello,' Tweed answered.
'Wonder if you still recognize my voice,' the caller began.
'Philip! Where the hell are you now? Or maybe you'd sooner…'
'Just listen. You need to fly to Aix-en-Provence today. By this flight. Here are the details… You land at Marignane Airport, in the middle of nowhere. I'll have a car waiting to drive you to your Aix hotel, the one in the north of the city. It would be safer if you brought two members of the team.'
'Paula and Newman?'
'Perfect. Something very weird is going on. A certain Noel Macomber is arriving late tonight to meet a most dubious character tomorrow evening. Twenty-four hours should do the trick. OK?'
'Yes.'
The line went dead. Tweed looked round the room. Paula could tell he was delighted. He gave them the news.
'So,' Newman commented, 'our wandering boy Philip Garden has surfaced again. Bet he knows what is going on over here. Strange that Noel Macomber is flying out to Aix. To meet whom?'
'We'll find out, won't we,' Tweed told him. 'Heathrow is the worst part. All those queues on security grounds. I hate that.'
'That's all right,' Monica called out. 'I'll phone your old friend, Jim Corcoran, chief of security. He'll slip you through the queues.'
'Good idea,' Tweed agreed. 'Now Paula and I have an appointment with the magic circle. All the Macombers. I'm anxious to detect which one is the boss.'
Tweed found a parking space as a car pulled out. They walked the rest of the way down Whitehall and into the side street – into the dragons' lair, as he called it.
'Bet I spot the chief dragon,' Paula teased him.
The side street was narrow and deserted. Tweed stopped in front of a building which bore a wall plate: Special Branch. He pointed.
'Let's hope that's never altered to State Security. And they've converted the place into a fortress.'
The ground floor windows had been blocked up with steel sheets. On the first floor all the windows had bars and wire netting over them. To reach the speakphone Tweed had to perch on a big stone slab with a rubber pressure pad attached to its top.
'How do we get into Fort Knox?' he demanded after pressing the bell.
'Identify yourself,' a metallic voice demanded.
'Oh, for Heaven's sake, you know we're coming. Tweed – and don't forget Paula Grey. Now open up, if you can.'
Tweed was about to add something even more caustic when Paula pulled at his sleeve, a finger to her lips. She eased him off the stone slab.
'Probably nothing will open while you're on the pressure pad,' she whispered, then grinned.
They waited. Tweed put his executive case, which contained nothing but blank sheets of paper, over the lens of a camera let into the large metal door. Paula frowned, pulled his arm away.
There was an electronic buzzing sound and the door slid up, disappeared. In the opening stood Noel Macomber, smiling as he checked out Paula. She stared back until his gaze dropped.
'Welcome to you both,' Noel began in a cultured voice. 'In you both trot.'
Trot? Tweed wondered. 'Electronics? Is the fire exit also opened by gizmos? Because if it is and there is a fire you'll all burn to a frazzle.'
If he keeps on like this, Paula thought, we'll get nowhere.
They stepped on to an escalator which purred up to the first floor. Noel had pressed something, there was more buzzing and the entrance door slid back to the closed position.
'We have to take all precautions,' Noel explained as they stepped off the escalator.
'So if anyone wanted to wipe you out,' Tweed replied, 'a truck with a very large bomb could just get down the narrow street by riding its wheels on the pavement.'
Paula wanted to punch Tweed but desisted as Noel opened a mahogany door into a large room, the walls painted cream, the only furniture a triangular table of rosewood with a chair on each of the sides. A large square table stood further back, at which two men were seated. They stood up and came forward to greet their visitors with outstretched hands.
'I'm Nelson,' the largest brother said. 'My father was an admirer of the famous admiral.' After shaking hands with Tweed he turned to Paula, a wide smile on his face as he grasped her hand, then released it. 'Bit of a joke – if I'm in a rowing boat on a lake I feel seasick.'
'Didn't your father realize this later on?' she asked, smiling back.
He laughed. 'A bit late to do anything about it. Not that he'd have bothered. This is Benton, my brother.'
'I am glad to make your acquaintance.' He was smaller than his brother but also heavily built. He also smiled warmly. 'Do come and sit down.' His voice was soft, gentle, unlike Nelson's, who spoke with force.
'Then there is an equally important member of our little group, or perhaps the most important,' Nelson boomed. 'Noel is our planner. He has a head for detail which I fear I lack!'
By now they were close to the large square table. Noel smiled at Paula, a very pleasant wide smile as he studied her. 'I am glad Tweed brought you along. You would have an important part to play in the new organization. We do know something of your remarkable ability.' He held out a chair for her. She looked up, smiled, thanked him.
Tweed, who was rather left out at this stage, was amused. They were all concentrating on Paula. He thought he knew why. When they were all seated Nelson asked whether they would like tea or coffee. Both guests opted for coffee. Black.
Nelson pressed a bell under the table. A side door was opened at once and the Parrot appeared. Tweed looked straight at her, betraying no recognition. Coffee was brought quickly, but was served by a red-haired girl who did not even look at Paula. Coral Flenton.