receiver when the phone rang. It was Captain Palmer of Norwegian Intelligence, a very apologetic Palmer.
`I am covered with shame and confusion, Tweed. And I am so sorry not to have contacted you earlier.'
`What's gone wrong, Georg?'
`We have lost the Nordsee. That is not entirely accurate. The Coastguard never even found the cruiser. It has been quartering a vast area – continuing after dark. What will you think of us?'
`The same high opinion as before. And now it doesn't make any difference. I know exactly where it's heading for. My apologies to the Coastguard for wasting their time.'
`You have time for dinner with me tomorrow night?' `Next time, yes. I'm leaving almost at once. My thanks.'
Newman arrived as he broke the connection, waited for a few seconds, then began dialling Park Crescent. Newman stood by the curtained window while Tweed gave Monica very precise instructions, then paused as Newman gestured. He told Monica Newman wanted a word and collected his shaving gear from the bathroom while Newman carried on a brief conversation which he couldn't hear.
`We're leaving immediately,' he said as he emerged from the bathroom and Newman put down the phone. 'You're ready? Good. Butler and Nield are escorting Diana. They should be in the lobby waiting. We pay the bill, we leave.'
`Where for?'
`Fornebu.'
The lights were on inside the pilot's cabin aboard the Sea King as Tweed bent over the chart with Casey. Newman looked over his shoulder while Butler and Nield fussed over Diana, settling her in her seat in the passenger compartment.
`You think you can spot the Nordsee at night?' Tweed asked.
`Only if I have some idea where to look. We are equipped with the most sophisticated night-seeing devices – which is why the RAF kicked up such a fuss about my borrowing their machine. You must have gone up to PM level,' Casey joked.
Which was exactly the level Tweed had invoked, but he was careful not to confirm the fact. He took the blue crayon Casey was holding and made a neat cross.
`That is the airfield where you land. Time it so we get there close to dawn if you can.' He made another neat cross. 'And that is the point the Nordsee is heading for. You know where she was late this afternoon. What course would you follow?'
He handed the crayon back, Casey studied the chart for a few moments and then carefully marked a course. He shrugged his broad shoulders as he straightened up.
`That's only a rough idea. And we shall arrive there long before a power cruiser can make it.'
`All the better. I need to be there ahead of her.'
`And,' Casey decided, `if we are to make your landfall at dawn, there should be no problem. If necessary, I can land at Esbjerg in Western Denmark to lose a little time, to refuel. We'll see how we go. Take off now?'
`The moment you're ready.'
Tweed was sitting alongside Newman, two rows behind Diana who sat with Butler. He woke with a start, realized he had dozed off. Rubbing his eyes, he stared in surprise out of the window. The first light of dawn was breaking. The Sea King was flying remarkably smoothly. Tweed put on his headset so he could talk with Newman who was wearing his.
'He must be very close. Shouldn't we go up and see Casey?'
'I just did that a few minutes ago. Another twenty minutes yet. No hurry. What happened between you and Diana? She hasn't looked round once.'
'I told you – I was going to grill her. Naturally, she didn't like it. She won't forgive me. All part of the job.'
`Pity. You two looked as though…'
`Drop the subject. Wilson is beckoning to us. We'd better get along there.'
He took off the headset and followed Newman. The vibrations of the rotors drummed in his ears, trembled under his feet. The pilot's view was spectacular. The North Sea was like a sheet of glass, deep purple glass. Ahead the coast of Norfolk curved in a great sweep towards the Wash.
'We're ten minutes from Langham Airfield,' Casey informed him, tut that isn't why I called you. There's a power cruiser ahead which exactly fits your description.'
'That's impossible. He could never have got here as early as this.'
'It has a different name though.' Casey had handed over control to Wilson and he gave Tweed a large pair of very high-powered binoculars. 'See for yourself.'
Tweed stared through the lenses at the white cruiser heading in towards the Wash. He passed them to Newman and grunted. 'The clever sod. He fooled us. He never was aboard the Nordsee. One of his men was at the helm – probably that thug who was chief of security at his mansion. He had another cruiser tucked away in one of those marinas, a third vessel. He must have seen Casey's chopper flying over Travemunde and it alerted him. My guess is he left Travemunde hours earlier. Must have done to get here by now.'
'We could be just too late,' Newman commented.
'I'll have to drive like hell,' Tweed replied. 'Just so long as Monica has done her stuff.'
`This is some kind of private airfield at Langham?' Casey asked.
`Yes. Used to be an RAF station during the war. I hear that sometimes Prince Philip uses it – for flying in to Sandringham. I know the place. It's a bit disused.'
`Better get back to your seats,' Casey advised. 'And I'll take over now,' he told Wilson.
`Will the man in that cruiser wonder about us?' Tweed asked.
`Doubt it. I've just seen two more choppers. They supply the oil rigs. Part of the scenery round here.'
Tweed stirred restlessly in his seat, peering out of the window. He caught one glimpse of the cruiser, heading direct inside the Wash, leaving behind an arrow of wake on the sea. The purple was changing to blue. The machine tilted and he lost sight of the vessel.
`What did you talk to Monica about on the phone back at the Grand just before we left my room?' he asked.
`Nothing much. I wanted her to get me something. It's been a long trail,' Newman remarked.
`Full circle – back to East Anglia.'
They were across the coast now. The machine descended and turned rapidly. Tweed clasped his hands to keep them still. The Sea King dropped vertically. Beyond the window the ground came up to meet them. Newman leaned across Tweed to look out.
Disused. Langham Airfield was certainly that. He could see grass growing up through a concrete runway. The machine landed, the rotor beat slowed.
Tweed was the first to alight. Newman followed and was surprised at the size of the airfield. It was wide open country. From beyond a distant hedge he heard another sound as the rotors ceased turning. A gobbling noise. Must be a turkey farm nearby.
`We're very close to Blakeney,' Casey called down. 'A nice little resort.'
`Thanks for the ride.'
Newman ran after Tweed, who was heading for a group of three cars parked on the edge of the field. A Ford Cortina, a Volvo, a Fiat. Monica climbed out from the Cortina as Tweed arrived. The air was crisp and fresh off the sea and she was muffled in a scarf and a camel-hair coat.
`The Cortina is yours. Keys in the ignition,' she told Tweed.
`Are you all right?'
`Yes. Take Diana back into town. Drop her at Newman's flat.' He turned as Newman arrived. 'I forgot. Diana has been using your flat. Hope you don't mind?'
`Charge you a stiff rent.'
`I have to do this one on my own, Bob. Who needs the Volvo?' he asked Monica.
`Bob asked me to have it here on the phone from Oslo. Monty the guard and George the doorman drove two of the vehicles. I left them at a crossroads nearby. Thought you might not want them to see you.'
`I'm leaving now.' Tweed climbed behind the wheel of the Cortina. 'What's the Volvo for, Bob?'
`Me. Maybe I've had enough. Time for a holiday.'
