about them.
Robson appeared quickly, gave his shy smile. He took out his pipe as he sat down and began to fill it with tobacco from an old leather pouch.
'Something else?' he enquired.
'Yes. Sorry to trouble you again – but it was Barrymore's idea I met all three of you at his place. Going back to that morning at the Lyceum Hotel, you said you went along to the colonel's room and he was out for a walk. How did you know he was out?'
'First there was a Do Not Disturb notice hanging from the handle of his door. He always does that when he goes out – very security conscious, our CO. That way any burglar will assume someone is sleeping inside. Don't bother myself.'
'You said 'first'. What else was there?' Tweed persisted.
'I wanted to ask him something. So I banged on his door to make sure. He's a light sleeper, like most Army types. He was definitely not there. You sound like a detective.' He smiled to take any sting out of his remark.
'I used to be one.' Tweed paused. 'With Homicide at the Yard.' Robson nodded and puffed at his pipe as Tweed continued. 'What did the three of you do the night before in the evening – after you'd arrived at the Lyceum?'
'Barrymore had some business to transact. Kearns and I went to Rules for dinner. The colonel joined us later.'
'And after your meal you did what?'
'Kearns and I went back to the hotel. Barrymore went for a walk. Said he felt like a breath of fresh air. He's a keep fit sort of chap.'
Tweed stood up. 'Well, thank you. Sorry to disturb your work.'
That's all right. Do you mind if May shows you out? I've quite a workload to get through. There's a bug going round and I've been rushed off my feet. I make quick notes after seeing a patient. Then when I get the time I make a proper record. Ah, here is May.'
'I was going to ask if anyone would like coffee?' she said.
'They're just leaving. Perhaps you'd show them out…'
She accompanied them to the front door, Tweed said 'Goodbye,' and she closed the door.
Tweed walked down the steps off the terrace and strolled round to the end of the bungalow. Paula followed as he stood looking at the four-wheel-drive vehicle. Along the bodywork of the passenger seat side at the front was painted a word. Renegade.
'Can't be the same one,' Paula whispered. 'Mrs Larcombe would have noticed that word. It's in huge letters and painted white.'
'No, she wouldn't have done,' he observed, 'it's painted on the far side – the wrong side when she looked out of her window.'
'Can I help you?'
It was May who stood just behind them. Neither had heard her approach on the tarred drive. Tweed smiled and indicated the vehicle. 'We were just admiring it. In bad weather it must be a godsend.'
'Oh, that isn't Oliver's. He borrows it from Mr Kearns.'
39
Inside the isolated public call box near Simonsbath Seton-Charles pulled at his lips with his thumb and forefinger, He was waiting for the phone to ring, had been waiting a good ten minutes. Jupiter insisted he arrived in good time.
His car was parked off the road amid a clump of trees: an empty car left in the middle of nowhere in full view could attract attention. He looked round through the windows for the fifth time. The deserted road spiralled away up on to the moor. Mist curled down over the ridges. If the call didn't come soon it was going to be a difficult drive back to his bungalow.
He shivered. The chill seemed to penetrate the box. He felt the cold after his stay in Athens. He grabbed the phone when it began to ring.
'Clement here,' he said. 'Speaking from,..' He gave the number of the call box, reversing the last two digits.
The voice began speaking immediately, the tone clipped, the accent upper-crust. No time wasted on greetings, Straight into the instructions.
'We need two furniture vans for the move. In Norwich there's a firm called Camelford Removals. Just gone bankrupt. Selling everything off. Purchase two vehicles, large ones. Pay in cash to save time. Store them in the barn at Cherry Farm in Hampshire. Make sure the doors are double padlocked. Two sets of keys. I want you to drive there tonight after dark. Put up at a hotel in Norwich.'
'I can't drive two vans back myself…'
Think, man. Store one in a garage in the Norwich area tomorrow. Drive the other to Cherry Farm. With a motorbike inside. Use the bike to get back to Norwich. Then drive the second van back to the farm. The bike is expendable. I want both vehicles at the farm two days from now. Camelford Removals' address is… Got it?'
'Yes,' said Seton-Charles. 'You're sure the vans will still be available? Not already sold?'
'My dear chap, the advertisement said they have six vans they want to shift. Bound to be at least two left, providing you're in Norwich first thing tomorrow. That's it…'
The connection was broken. Seton-Charles hurried back to his Volvo station wagon, backed it on to the road, started driving for his home on the bungalow estate.
He had no idea of the identity of the man who had called him. He thought the codename Jupiter rather pretentious, but driving along he realized Jupiter was a first-rate organizer. Now he'd drive to Norwich during the late evening, find a hotel. He'd have to park his Volvo in a lock-up, buy a second-hand motorcycle.
When he'd purchased the two furniture vans he'd park the motorbike inside one, then drive it to Cherry Farm, an uninhabited farmhouse he'd visited earlier. Next he'd ride the bike back to Norwich, collect the second van, drive it to the farm. Finally, he could use the bike to ride back again to Norwich to pick up his Volvo. The bike would be dumped in some convenient wood. Job done.
But what could Jupiter want with a couple of furniture vans? He couldn't even guess. But the operation- whatever it might be – was under way. And there had been a hint of urgency in the way he'd been given his instructions.
'Do go easy on Kearns,' Paula said as Tweed parked the Mercedes just short of Woodside House. 'Remember, his wife has just been killed.' She looked up. 'Good Lord, it's Pete.'
Nield leant on the edge of Tweed's window. He looked very tired. He winked at Paula and then spoke to Tweed.
'It's a small world, as they say. Seton-Charles has come back from Greece. I've been checking for days. He's just returned to that bungalow of his at the end of the cul-de-sac after making a covert phone call.'
'Covert?'
'I saw his Volvo parked outside his bungalow so I hung around. He has his own phone, as you know. So what does he do? Drives to a public call box near Simonsbath.'
'A long call?' Tweed asked.
'Let me tell it my way. I follow him. He hides his Volvo in some trees, walks into the box, then waits at least ten minutes.'
That sounds like a professional. He has an arrangement to be at a certain call box at a specific time. Go on.'
The phone rings. He snatches it. Conversation lasts precisely ninety seconds. Then he drives back here. His car is inside his garage. What do you think?'
'He bears watching.' Tweed looked closely at Nield. 'You've had a long day, I'd say.'
'Bit frayed. I could do with a sit-down and a half pint.'
Then drive back to The Anchor now. If Seton-Charles put his car away it doesn't look as though he's going
