block…'
`That's enough.' Tweed stood up behind the desk, his manner cold. 'I repeat, I take full responsibility, but I'm damned if I'm taking lectures from you. In case you've forgotten, you also checked the vetting reports.'
Did you make any progress in Germany?' Howard had slid his bottom off the desk and stood stiffly. 'And may I remind you we have junior staff present?' he snapped, referring to Monica.
`Senior staff. She's been here longer than you have. As to progress, a little. The game is at an early stage. I move at my own pace. I'm also short of time.'
Howard dabbed his Roman nose with a silk handkerchief, tucked it back in his cuff, and became more conciliatory, regretting his outburst.
`Are you all right? No damage, I trust? I heard you were involved in a scuffle in Lubeck.'
How the devil did he know that? Then Tweed remembered Liibeck was in Hugh Grey's sector. Of course. Grey would report back every titbit to curry favour with Howard.
`That was a minor incident. Probably of no significance. I would like to get on now. If you don't mind..
`On my way. My desk is piled up like Everest. Doubt if I'll get to the club this evening…'
Monica waited until the door closed. 'The bastard!' she burst out. 'Your head on the chopping block, indeed. What does he think we're running? The Tower of London?'
`I do need every minute,' Tweed told her. `If possible, I'd like an appointment with that psychiatrist we once used. And I don't mean the nut case Howard sends people to. That sensible chap in Harley Street. Foreign-sounding name.'
`Dr Roger Generoso…'
`That's the chap. No, don't phone him for a second. I also want to drive out to Norfolk. That will have to be this evening. I want a chat with Hugh Grey's wife, Paula. I got on rather well with her when we last met. Fix up Generoso first, then Paula. She stays at the farmhouse most of the time if I remember rightly.'
`Had an appointment cancelled. You were lucky, Tweed. Trouble again for the General and Cumbria Assurance?'
Dr Roger Generoso was of medium height, well-built, middle-aged, had a rounded head and thinning hair. His manner was matter-of-fact. He listened to Tweed for ten minutes, making notes on his pad.
`That's about it,' Tweed said. 'What do you think?'
`A man leading a double life,' Generoso mused. 'One life here, the other on the continent. Keeps them both in separate compartments. Now under great pressure – and you propose to increase that pressure to expose his villainy as head of a kidnap gang. I think you're treading on thin ice.'
'Why?'
`Depends on whether you crack him. Put in simple language, we have a man with two sides to his head. That represents the two sides of his life. The danger is schizophrenia…'
`A schizo?'
`In common parlance, yes. It's as though he has a dam erected inside his brain. On one side, one life, on the other his secret existence. The danger is if the dam breaks, if one side floods into the other. Then anything could happen.'
`I read a book on Kim Philby once,' Tweed remarked. 'He drank like a fish, but still never gave himself away.'
`A good example. The alcohol saved him. Release from all the tremendous tension he laboured under.'
`So heavy drinking could be a sign?'
`Quite definitely.'
`This could be a very serious case,' Tweed said cautiously. `If the pressure was exceptional might he resort to murdering women at random – in a rather bestial way?'
Generoso swivelled in his chair and studied Tweed. 'I didn't realize you were talking about an extreme case. There have been instances such as you describe. Very difficult to detect.
The murderer might well appear perfectly normal most of the time – which is why some of my less perceptive colleagues have been known to let out of prison inmates who should be kept there for life.'
`Supposing he had a consistent tendency to kill and mutilate blonde girls?'
`You are in trouble, aren't you? Yes, to use your own word, a schizo. Surely the police should be informed?'
`They have one of the ablest men on the continent assigned to the case. It just so happens that his investigations and my own overlap. At least, they may. I'm simply not sure of anything. Are there any indications – habits – whereby such a schizo might be pinpointed? Might give himself away?'
`Oh dear, what a question.' Generoso leant back in his chair and stroked his head with one hand as though seeking to locate a clue. 'He's likely to be obsessive in some direction.'
`What kind of direction?'
`Maybe excessively neat. Fussy about small things. Can you describe the man you suspect?'
`There's more than one of them.'
`Doesn't help. I'm working in the dark.'
`So am I,' admitted Tweed. 'What about manifestations of character?'
'We might be on firmer ground there. Schizophrenics sometimes display an overweening self-confidence, verging on arrogance. We come back to Philby. I'm sure he only started out as a crusader. Later it was the game which hypnotized him – the delight in fooling people.'
`And if he thought the net was closing round him – that he was in danger of being exposed, identified? Would he panic?'
`Unlikely. These people can be devilish cunning. He'd feel sure he could always outwit his adversaries – because he was so much cleverer than them. That might cause him to step up the challenge…'
`Kill more girls?'
`I fear so.'
And would he,' Tweed persisted, 'keep away from women?'
`Not necessarily. He might do the opposite – to divert suspicion. It's difficult for the layman to appreciate just how fiendishly clever a split personality can be. He's very like an actor – playing two roles. Another characteristic I'd count on would be insufferable conceit, a feeling of great superiority to all other human beings. That might not show,' he warned.
`Getting back to putting pressure on him – to crack him?'
`There you are on very dangerous ground. Supposing we are talking about an extreme case – someone who is going round killing these blonde girls at intervals in time. Step up the pressure, you could step up the killings. His method of release from tension, his way of countering the pressure. And that, Tweed, I fear, is all I can say…'
`When you send your fee to General and Cumbria please address it to me personally.'
Generoso accompanied him to the door of his consulting room. He made the remark as he opened the door.
`Take care. If you are right, you could be in great peril…'
`Paula Grey is available,' Monica announced as Tweed closed the door of his office. 'She sounded oddly pleased that you were coming to see her.'
`I don't understand that. On the few occasions we've met we have got on well, but you make it sound as though she were relieved…'
`I think she is. She runs her own business, as you know. She has a pottery works in Wisbech with a small staff of girls. She does well, I gather…'
`You had quite a chat with her then?'
`She seemed glad to have someone from the outside world she could talk to. You're going to see her now?'
`I'm driving out in a few minutes. I suppose all four sector chiefs are turning up for tomorrow's meeting?'
`I have passed the instruction. The girl in Bern said she might have trouble contacting Guy Dalby. I told her he had to come hell or high water. How did it go with Dr Generoso?'
`Disturbing,' Tweed replied, and left it at that.
It was early evening as Tweed drove his Ford Cortina (secondhand) into the outskirts of King's Lynn and
