`And what did you think of him?' he asked as Diana arranged her skirt.
'A barrel of laughs.'
`Which means you didn't like him? He's a reputation for no interest in women…'
`That you'd better revise.'
`Really? Why?'
He had started the car but he paused in surprise. She took out her ivory holder, inserted a cigarette.
`He likes blondes. That I do know. A woman can always tell. In fact, I'd say he's interested in all types of attractive women. Don't let him fool you.'
`I thought maybe it was just you…'
`I never flatter myself. Tweedy, a woman always knows. He is interested in the opposite sex. Period. Did you find anything?'
`Maybe.'
`You don't even trust Diana, do you?' Monica asked as Tweed settled himself behind his desk.
`Why do you say that?'
`It's obvious. You have Pete Nield following her. Where is she now? Back in Newman's flat?'
`After leaving Lindemann's place I did drop her there. She said she was going window-shopping at Harrods. Nield managed to find a parking slot further down the street when we arrived at the lodge. And my main purpose in never leaving her alone is to guard her. She could be a key witness.'
`Witness to what?'
`That I'm not sure of yet…'
`All right, go secretive on me. Hugh Grey will be at his Norfolk farmhouse tomorrow. He's leaving his Cheyne Walk flat this evening to drive out there. And Guy Dalby will be home in Woking.'
`Then I'll drive Diana to Norfolk tomorrow. Get her impression of Grey.'
`Is that really the only reason you're travelling round with her to see the sector chiefs?'
`What other reason could there be?' Tweed enquired. 'We must stick to the point.' He stood up, began strolling round the office. 'There are two main threads running through this grim investigation. Who is the Janus man – the person responsible for Fergusson's murder? Because only four people knew he was on his way to Hamburg. The four sector chiefs. One of them has to be Janus.'
`And the second thread?'
`Who is Dr Berlin?'
`They all seem to be absent from Europe at the same time, Monica remarked. 'I managed to contact Kuhlmann at Lubeck Sud, as you requested. After four calls. He confirmed that Dr Berlin has still not returned to Priwall Island. What's the matter?'
`Something you just said..
Tweed stood stock still, gazing through the heavy net curtains towards the trees in Regent's Park. They were in full foliage and the sun shone on them out of a clear blue sky. Tweed was not seeing any of this. His gaze was abstracted, like a man who has received a shock. He swung round.
`Read to me that report I dictated after my visit to Dr Generoso, the psychiatrist…'
`I typed it out. You can read it for yourself.'
`Read it aloud, woman. Please. I want to hear it.'
She extracted a folder from a drawer, took out a sheaf of typescript, began reading. Slowly. She'd had to do this before for him. He grasped it better listening.
' 'A man leading a double life… One life here, the other on the continent… Now under great pressure… you propose to increase that pressure… you're treading on thin ice… Schizo… Kim Philby drank like a fish… a good example. The alcohol saved him. Release from all the tension he laboured under… murdering women at random… Very difficult to detect. The murderer might well appear perfectly normal most of the time… likely to be obsessive in some direction… Maybe excessively neat. Fussy about small things… an overweening self-confidence verging on arrogance… delight in fooling people… very like an actor, playing two roles… insufferable conceit, a feeling of great superiority over other human beings… Step up the pressure, you could step up the killings.' And that is about it,' Monica concluded.
`I've been barking up the wrong tree!' Tweed snapped his fingers in his excitement. 'And something I repeated to you recently which Diana said was another pointer.'
`Really? Pointer in which direction?'
`Dr Berlin. Of course!'
Twenty-Seven
Through his field-glasses Falken watched the armoured car coming down the track off the highway. He held the lenses to his eyes for only a few seconds and then lowered the binoculars.
`I can see its wheels kicking up cinder off that track,' he commented. 'It's slithering all over the place.'
`If necessary it will slither down to the end of the slope and then drive on to here,' Gerda warned.
She ran out of the kitchen, followed by Falken. Newman stayed to one side of the window, watching through a patch of clear glass in the condensation. He didn't think they could fight the Army. And the retreat from the back of the cottage was across fields of ripening rye. They'd be spotted instantly.
He watched the ugly vehicle wrestling with the cinder track. Again he had gone ice-cold, as he had when they encountered the Schneider patrol back in the forest. Then he stiffened, his eyes narrowed. He waited a moment longer. To be sure.
`Come back here!' he shouted.
Gerda slipped into the room, holding the Uzi. Behind her Falken appeared, a Walther automatic pistol in his right hand. Newman gestured for them to keep away from the window.
`What is it?' Falken asked in a crisp voice.
`It's going away. They were simply using the track to turn the armoured car so they could go back the way they came. They must have lost their way…'
`I do believe you're right,' Falken responded, peering out of the window from the other side. 'It is illegal to make a U-turn. They were worried a staff car might come along if they tried it.'
Newman watched the car proceeding eastwards along the elevated highway. Gerda stood beside him, he heard her let out her breath. Newman showed her his moist palms and wiped them dry on the back of his trousers.
`Feel my heart, Mr Thorn,' she said. 'Go on, feel it.'
He hesitated, then placed his hand over her left breast. He held it there and she smiled up at him, a Mona Lisa smile. Falken grinned and shoved the Walther inside, his jacket pocket.
`Beating like a tom-tom,' she said. 'You feel it?'
'I feel it…'
She left the room again and Newman looked at Falken who still had a grin on his face. He came close to Newman, whispering the words.
`She likes you. If something happens to me, you do what she says. You obey her. Then you will be safe.'
`Nothing is going to happen to you.'
`In this game fate deals different cards. We just had a good card. Maybe the next one…' He broke off as Gerda returned and said the meal was ready. Newman left them to lay the table in the sitting-room. As he walked through it he noticed Gerda had put back the windcheater on the floor, presumably concealing the Uzi. From the canvas hold-all she had carried from the Chaika, Gerda produced black bread, cheese and some apples. He went outside to the back of the cottage to get some fresh air.
After they had eaten their simple meal and drunk black coffee, Falken took out the Border Police folder and the trimmed photo of Newman from the table drawer he had slipped them inside earlier.
`As I said, always assume the worst. We assume that Schneider reported the incident. So, they look for an impostor who carries a River Police folder…' He took the pot of glue out of the drawer and squeezed a very small
