'Back within less than an hour,' Tweed said, holding open the door for his guest.
The streets were deserted as the two cars drove through the middle of the night. Reaching Hammersmith the Parrot overtook Tweed's car to lead him down a narrow side street with a wall of terraced houses on either side. Tweed had already seen a familiar car in his rear-view mirror.
The Parrot parked. Tweed parked behind her and got out to see her safely into her home. The security on the front door was poor. An ordinary lock and nothing else. The Parrot spoke as she inserted her key.
'You'll come inside so I can thank you with a drink. I will not take no for an answer.'
At that moment a third car jerked to a stop behind Tweed's. Paula jumped out, followed by Marler. She called out in a cheerful voice.
'Hello there, Miss Partridge. You're out late. But so are we. There's a restaurant not far away we like. We were driving off when we spotted Tweed's car.'
'She's just invited us in for a drink,' Tweed said, smiling.
'I'll have coffee, I'm driving,' Marler drawled.
'A glass of Chardonnay would be super,' bubbled Paula.
The Parrot's expression was a picture. She made a great effort to convert annoyance and rage into a feeble smile as she opened the door.
'You're most welcome,' she said through gritted teeth.
Inside there was a narrow hall, doors leading off at the sides. The Parrot headed at a brisk trot up the stairs at the end, the treads carpeted with a red material. At the top she continued her trot along a landing to another door. Beyond it was a surprisingly large living room.
Paula glanced round. The furniture was not antique but was restful and modern with a collection of sofas and chairs and cupboards. Paula grabbed Tweed's arm, guided him to a sofa. They both sat. Even here Marler chose to stand in a corner against a wall.
The Parrot disappeared into the kitchen and Paula followed her. Money had gone into equipping her kitchen. Everything was brand new and expensive. The Parrot was taking out bottles and glasses from a cupboard when she noticed Paula.
'Thought I'd give you a hand,' Paula said with a smile.
'Not necessary.' Her tone was abrupt. 'Go back and do make yourself comfortable. I can cope with this little lot.'
Paula returned to her seat on the sofa, soon followed by the Parrot with a silver tray of drinks. She distributed them, sat down with a sigh and relaxed. She reached for her glass, looked round at her guests.
'What shall we drink to?'
'A swift solution to the appalling murder of Viola,' Tweed suggested, raising his glass.
'That's a macabre toast,' the Parrot commented, 'but if you want that I'll go along with it.'
Paula noticed her glass trembled briefly as she raised it to her full lips. She was drinking neat Scotch. Tweed spoke again as he placed his glass on a glass-topped table.
'Miss Partridge, what is it like working with the three Macombers? They strike me as men with very different characters – even if they are brothers.'
'Oh.' The Parrot waved a hand airily. 'I get by. With any job at my level there is bound to be the odd problem.'
'What sort of problems would they be?'
'Present company excluded -' she glanced at Marler 3 who seemed to bother her standing on his own – 'but men are subject to wildly varying moods.'
'I agree,' Tweed pressed on, 'but so are women. There is a myth that men and women differ enormously from each other. I don't think they do. They often have similar worries and uncertainties.'
Tweed went on talking as Paula jumped up and swiftly headed for the kitchen. She called out over her shoulder.
'Excuse me, but I've lost one of my earrings. I heard it drop on the floor when I was in the kitchen.'
Earlier, arriving in the hall, she had detached one earring, slipping it into the pocket of her windcheater. She listened, could hear Tweed talking, then the Parrot answering.
She set to work quickly, looking for a meat cleaver. All the drawers slid open silently. Then she came to one which was locked. Why? She'd ignored the cupboards, an unlikely place to put a cleaver. Taking the earring out of her pocket, she quickly attached it to her ear.
Paula had the Parrot as one of her prime suspects. When she had her long meal with Coral Flenton her companion had told her she'd once caught the Parrot in a passionate embrace with one of the Macombers. Paula had asked her which one but Coral had shaken her head, said it was more than her job was worth.
Paula was re-entering the living room when she encountered the Parrot coming to see what she was up to. She gazed at Paula and then half-smiled.
'I see you have both on now. So you found it?'
'Yes, thank Heaven, it was difficult to see. It had slid close to one of the cupboard bases.'
As they returned to the living room Tweed stood up. Marler headed for the door to the landing.
'I have enjoyed our chat,' Tweed said.
'I want to thank you so much for escorting me safely home.' The Parrot was rushing towards Tweed when she knocked over a heavy revolving table crammed with books in shelves. She bent down, lifted it effortlessly, carried it across the room, trotting swiftly before she dumped it. She then rushed back to Tweed, hugged him, kissed him on both cheeks.
'I want you to know how much I appreciate what you did,' she told him.
Marler led the way downstairs, followed by Tweed and Paula, with the Parrot bringing up the rear. As they walked down the hall their hostess tapped a closed door.
'My bedroom. The window overlooks the street, so early in the morning I can sit up in bed and watch people going to work early.'
'It has a lock, I presume,' said Tweed, pausing. 'A really good lock.'
'Oh, I sleep with it partly open. I must have fresh air.'
They left the flat, walking into dark stillness without a sound. Tweed caught Paula's arm, took her to the passenger seat of his own car. Marler nipped along to the car in which he'd driven Paula.
They were moving through still deserted streets towards Paula's flat when she told Tweed about the reason for her supposed missing earring.
'Why would she have one drawer locked?' she asked.
'For a dozen reasons – sharp knives out of reach of a visiting child, who might wander in there exploring, anything. How come you turned up with Marler? You wouldn't know her address.'
'Yes, we did. Marler phoned Monica about something and she told him where you had gone with the Parrot, gave him the address.'
'So you came running to my rescue? Was that it?'
'No. It wasn't. We didn't like the idea of your driving back on your own. Simple.'
Tweed dropped Paula outside her flat as Marler pulled up behind him. He drove off, ignoring Marler who came to his open window suggesting he spent the night in Paula's spare bedroom.
His mind was churning as he drove slowly. It was the time of night when drunk drivers happily assumed there would be no one else on the road. His mind was still churning as he parked his car in the nearby mews, only a short walk from his house.
His mind was churning on the thought of the Parrot sleeping in that downstairs bedroom overlooking the street. With the window open.
28
Tweed was early at the office. He hadn't slept much, but was exceptionally alert. As he greeted George and started running up the staircase George called up to him.
'Gentleman waiting for you…'
'Who?'
'Didn't give a name. Not the sort of chap you bandy words with. Said he'd an appointment with you.'
Tweed walked into his office. Monica raised her hands in a gesture of helplessness. Seated in the chair facing his desk was General Lucius Macomber, very erect and dressed in a smart business suit.
'Didn't expect you,' Tweed said, taking of his coat, which Monica caught. 'You're an early bird. General.'