'She'll tell them.'
'You know, I don't think she will,' Tweed replied. 'Now it's time Newman took you home. I saw you yawn. You must be exhausted.'
'Bed would be nice.'
Newman drove off first and Paula followed him. The traffic was lighter and as he moved up Brompton Road he slowed almost to a crawl. She wondered why. Then he parked, turned and gestured for her to join him.
'Something wrong?' she enquired as she settled beside him.
'Couldn't be more wrong.'
'What is it?'
'See that battered old Ford outside the entrance to your yard? Two men in front, the driver gesturing towards your place to his companion. Recognize anyone?'
'Oh God! Not the driver, but his passenger is Radek.'
'And the driver is Fitch. Inside that car is the most deadly killing machine in town. They're checking your place. Aren't you glad Tweed told me to look after you? I could kill them both,' he went on. On his lap was a Smith amp; Wesson. 'Perfect opportunity.'
'Don't.' She placed her hand on his. 'It would be murder. I don't think the police would take into account what they are.'
'This isn't my normal revolver,' he argued. 'It's one Harry gave me. Never been used before. Serial number filed off. No check on the bullets would be found in the records…'
'Don't!' she repeated more emphatically. 'I'd like to kill them myself but it's too dangerous. And it's just outside my flat. I'd be the first one the police grill.'
The argument was settled as the Ford drove off down the Fulham Road. Newman waited to give them time to get well clear, then drove on, crossed the road into the yard, parked the car out of sight at the back of the building. Paula, who had returned to her car, followed him.
'I won't use the spare bedroom tonight,' Newman decided as she fiddled with her door keys. 'I'll sleep on the couch in the living room, then I can see and hear anyone coming.'
'I'll make up the couch into a bed,' she promised him. 'It has one of these pull-out beds underneath it. I'll make you comfortable.'
'I know you will. And I'll have my normal revolver handy. No, I don't want anything to eat. Just a carafe of water.'
In the living room overlooking the street she fussed with pillows and sheets and blankets. Then she gave a great yawn as she said good night. In her bedroom she forced herself to take a quick shower, dried, flopped into bed and was fast asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
In the morning, when it was still dark, Paula was up first. She found Newman still awake. She went to close the curtains.
'Don't do that,' he warned. 'I need a view of the street. You look a million dollars,' he remarked as he put on his shoes and windcheater. 'I take it you slept well.'
'It was glorious. I didn't dream once. Breakfast now, then back to the office, I expect. I'm wondering how Radek got here so quickly.'
'Simple. Radek flies over from Paris with Noel. Then Noel drives him in the car he's left at airport parking to Fitch's hangout.'
'Which is where?' she asked as she skilfully broke eggs over a pan in the compact kitchen leading off the living room. 'I hope you're hungry.'
'Could eat a horse,' Newman said.
'Sorry, not on the menu. You were saying?'
'Harry knows he has a warehouse in the East End. He's never been inside but a pal has, described it. Fitch sleeps in a small messy room. The main feature is a vast room which has nothing in it. The floor is the old planks. Noel will know the place.'
'Why Noel?'
'Because he's the Planner. Fitch is just the type of scum Noel would use for dirty jobs. I've got Noel, with his public-school accent, weighed up.'
'Sit down. Eat…'
At Nelson's insistence, against the doctor's wishes, the three men were released from hospital after promising to drink plenty of water. They were walking down the exit stairs, watched by the doctor, when Nelson stumbled, grabbed hold of the banister.
'I expect to see you back here soon,' the doctor warned.
'We're businessmen,' Nelson shouted. 'Not doctors who piddle around for a few hours a day.'
'Not another word,' Benton told him in his quiet voice.
The limo Nelson had called for on his mobile waited for them outside. A uniformed chauffeur opened the doors.
They had just got in when Nelson gave an abrupt instruction to the driver.
'We're in a hurry to get to our building. No crawling.'
Near Trafalgar Street the limo was stopped in a solid motionless wedge of traffic. Noel glanced out of the window, saw a newspaper stall. He opened his door, dived out. Behind the wheel the chauffeur raised his eyes to heaven. He could have started moving while Noel was half out of the car. At the newspaper stall Noel asked for the latest edition of the Daily Nation, paid, dived back into the limo, began studying the paper.
'Expecting good news?' Benton asked caustically.
'You never know…'
He broke off, swearing silently to himself, using the foulest language.
Newman drove off from her flat first. Paula's car was close behind him. They were nearly at Park Crescent when she honked her horn. Newman glanced in his rear-view mirror, saw her parked, running into a newspaper shop. She came out quickly with the Daily Nation, the latest edition, which the shop's owner told her had just arrived.
She dropped it on the seat, honked again and they drove on to Park Crescent. As soon as she sat at her desk Paula began studying the paper, concentrating on Drew Franklin's column. She smiled, waved her hand in the air in a victory gesture.
'So what is so exciting?' Tweed asked.
'Three cheers for Philip Garden. Harry, that barge thing off the lie St-Louis. You were going to help Philip do something. What was it?'
'Sounded a tricky idea to me. Philip was giving me a frogman's suit while he put on his own. Then we were going to wait until all twenty-five Slovaks from the second coach had been ferried aboard in small boats from a ramp on the lie. Waited a bit longer while they were hidden in the hold. I'd have had two limpet mines with magnetic attachments, Philip one. We'd then have swum out from the same ramp, unseen underwater. I had to attach two of the mines either side of the prow while Philip attached his on the stern. Then we'd have swum to the opposite shore. Philip had a small powerful radio. When he pressed the button the mines would have detonated. Why are you asking?'
'Mind if I see that newspaper?' Tweed asked.
Paula ran across. She had folded the paper to the front page. Drew Franklin's report was very prominent.
IMMIGRAN'I SABOTEURS KILLED ON SEINE
A cunning plan to smuggle Slovak saboteurs into Britain was foiled yesterday evening in Paris. The ship bound for Britain was stationary opposite the lie St-Louis when a huge explosion took out the entire bottom of the ship, which sank quickly. The French police report they are still searching the Seine for bodies.
'So Philip did it by himself,' Tweed commented. 'I really will have to send him more funds. That eliminates the rest of Radek's army of killers, remembering the explosion on the bridge outside Aix. No one like Philip.'
Inside the Cabal's HQ, Noel's expression was murderous. He met the Parrot, who made the mistake of speaking to him.
'You're looking so much better. I was really worried what that tear gas would do to you. You're looking great.'
'Am I?' He raged. 'Well if so it's nothing to do with seeing you of all people as soon as we arrive. Cow!'
'What did you call me?' she shrieked.
'Cow! Cow! Cow! Get your legs moving. We want a gallon of coffee.'
He was menacing. His hands were clenched into fists. He was waving them at her. Hell, she thought, he's going to hit me. She slipped into the next room, slammed the door behind her. Nelson was glaring when Noel sat down at the three-sided table. His voice was a deep rumble.
'That, Noel, in case you've forgotten, is a key member of our team. She deals with all the paperwork.'