thermos full of hot coffee and some ham sandwiches? She's a nice old thing, she made them for you
'For us. Let's sit in the back of the car. Nothing more we can do except wait.'
'Wait for what?' Paula settled herself in the back of the car, sank her teeth into the sandwich Tweed gave her and ate ravenously.
'Bomb Squad. They'll come down this road. Either from Lakenheath or Heathrow.'
She drank more coffee. 'God, I'm thirsty.'
'Dehydration. Delayed shock.' He drank coffee from the chinaware mug she handed him. 'Me, too. I'm parched as the Sahara. Did that woman volunteer the breakfast?'
'Actually, no. I asked her.'
'You really are a practical girl,' he commented. 'And I noticed how you kept your cool back at the house. Good for you.'
'Did you read the card attached to that plastic bag on my doorstep?'
'No.'
'It said, For Paula. With love. In strange handwriting.'
4
The Heathrow Bomb Squad arrived first. Tweed climbed out of the Mercedes as the two police cars he'd arranged to wait at Langham airfield drove past the car park. He ran, catching them up as they stopped a few yards behind the rope barrier. A three-pipper in Army uniform alighted, carrying a large box, followed by a sergeant and a corporal.
'Captain Nicholls?' Tweed panted.
The officer, tall and unsmiling and with alert grey eyes turned round. He looked Tweed up and down. 'Yes,' he replied in a clipped tone. 'What is it?'
'I'm Tweed.' He showed his Special Branch folder produced in the documents section in the Park Crescent basement. 'I called you on the phone. I'll show you exactly where it is…'
'Any idea how long the thing's been sitting there?'
'It could have been parked on the doorstep any time after ten last night. There's a plant sticking out. A large plastic bag.' They were walking side by side and the Captain grasped Tweed's arm as they reached the rope.
'No need for you to proceed any further, sir. If you'd just locate it…'
'Come to the other end of the rope.' Tweed pointed. 'It is parked on a doorstep exactly opposite that lamp- post. The whole immediate area has been evacuated.'
'Then I'd go back and stay in your car, sir. Our job now.'
'I'd appreciate a report on what you find.' Tweed paused. 'Good luck.'
Nicholls stared hard at Tweed. A wintry smile appeared briefly. 'You seem to know a bit about these jobs. Luck does come into it. See you later, sir.' On this optimistic note he turned to his men. 'Let's get cracking, lads.'
Tweed returned to the car. Paula would be under pressure. It was important to see how she was coping. He found her with a sketch-pad on her knee, drawing with a felt-tip pen. 'I use this for working out new pottery designs,' she said without looking up. 'Carry it with me everywhere.'
Tweed checked the time by his watch and drank the last of the coffee. Ten minutes later he checked his watch again. Paula closed her book and folded her arm inside his as she asked the question. 'Something's bothering you?'
'Yes. I want to warn you. The police will question you soon. They may be London men from the Anti-Terrorist Squad. Shrewd as a barrel of monkeys. So let's get your story straight. No mention about following that chap who may – or may not – be Lee Foley. Start your story with going to the front door. I was on holiday and you offered me a bed for the night. Then jump to this morning. Tell them how it happened. The way I grabbed you, etc. Keep it simple.'
'They may be curious you spent the night in my house.'
'Who cares?' He hastily corrected himself. 'You mean your local reputation could go down the drain?'
'I couldn't give an 'f' for my local reputation. I'll do as you say. I won't let you down. Now answer my question -the one you dodged.'
'Which one?'
'Something's bothering you – something else. You keep checking your watch and your mouth tightened the third time.'
'All right. They've been there over half an hour. If it had been all right – a harmless package – they'd have been back before now. It is a bomb.'
Three hours later Captain Nicholls appeared alone beyond the rope. Ducking under it, he walked to the car park, glanced at Paula and frowned at Tweed. Climbing out of the car, Tweed bent down and spoke to Paula before closing the door.
'Won't be long. I think the captain wants a word with me.'
'Take your time…'
Nicholls strolled up to the deserted top of the car park with Tweed. He lit a cigarette and waved the pack before replacing it in his pocket. 'Don't normally use them any more. This one tastes very good.'
'It was a bomb?'
'Forty pounds of TNT. It would have converted that house into a pile of powdered rubble. NO hope for anyone inside. Same for the houses on either side. A bit tricky, this one. My chaps are taking the TNI out on to the marshes for a controlled detonation. They'll have to walk miles. Conservation area and all that.'
'Instant detonation if the woman living there had picked it up?'
'Oh, absolutely. She'd have been blown -into a million pieces. Bit of a bore, the time we took – but it had been tricked out with all kinds of gadgets. You did say Special Branch?'
Silently Tweed handed over his folder. Nicholls examined the document very carefully this time. He compared the photo with its subject, then handed back the folder.
'What was so special about that bomb that made you double-check my identity?'
'You want the details?' Nicholls took a deep drag on the cigarette.
The lot, please.'
'First, it had a plate of steel lined with lead facing towards the waterfront. That would create implosion – most of the blast would have gone into and up the house.'
The harbour would have suffered?'
'Not a chance. Second – and this is particularly confidential-it was not the work of any kind of terrorist. Absolutely not.'
'How do you know that?'
The new and highly sophisticated mechanism. Perfected no more than a year ago. Of course, normally the explosive wouldn't be TNI – but it was just right for taking out that house. The one item which could be improved – in my opinion – is the timer…'
Nicholls sported a small trim moustache. He fingered it with the nail of his index finger. Apart from the cigarette, Tweed could detect no trace of the enormous tension the officer must have laboured under. The professional had taken over and his tone was full of enthusiasm as he went on.
'Devilish clever device though. Really a weapon of war – for use by saboteurs on major naval targets when the balloon goes up.'
'It sounds pretty heavy – all that steel and lead,' commented Tweed. 'Surely no plastic bag would hold it?'
'Very cunning, these johnnies. Inside that plastic bag was a smaller one. Made of reinforced leather – with a carrying handle. You do have a point. No one could have carried it far. Probably transported by car. Maybe they parked it a few yards back from the target house, then carted it the rest of the way.'
'Or brought it in by boat. The deep-water channel is opposite that house, and I noticed a metal ladder attached to the sea wall.'
