`Very. Most of what she knew was inside her head. She had a lot of guts. I blame myself. She insisted that it would be safer if we travelled separately – as though we were strangers. I thought it was a good idea. And it wasn't.'
Tweed was surprised. It was the first time he'd witnessed such a human reaction from the tough American.
`You haven't even a clue as to what she knew?' Tweed insisted.
`Yes. I have one tape of a recorded conversation with her. I'll play it to you in your office. Not here.'
`It could be urgent for me to have a hint.'
`Then this room has to he cleared of everyone except you and me.' Dillon had reverted to his normal abrasive tone.
He looked at Paula and Newman. 'And that includes you two.'
`We can all go into another office next door,' Corcoran volunteered. He grinned to lighten the atmosphere. 'Tap three times on the door when it's safe for us to come back.'
`You mentioned the phrase a key element in catastrophe,' Tweed said when they were alone. `Go ahead.'
Seated behind his desk Dr Wand picked up the phone, dialled a Brussels number. He waited, leaning back in his chair, adjusting his pince-nez up the bridge of his strong nose.
`Yes?' a throaty upper-crust voice answered.
`Dr Hyde?'
`Yes. What can I do for you?'
`This is the Director speaking. You recognize my voice? Good. Go to a public phone box and call me back. At once, please.'
Wand replaced the phone. While he waited he studied maps of Britain and Western Europe, marked with crosses in pencil. Easy to erase. After ten minutes the phone rang.
`Dr Hyde speaking.'
`I think you should now proceed to the next programmed stage with your patient. A hand will do very nicely.' `The patient is right-handed,' Hyde informed him. `Oh, well, let us be merciful. Remove the left hand and dispatch it as planned…'
Inside Corcoran's office Dillon was striding backwards and forwards. Tweed had never known him show such agitation. He remained silent, guessing Dillon was deciding how much to tell him.
Eventually the American came very close to Tweed. He began speaking in a whisper.
`Catastrophe is not a strong enough word. We are faced with a new ruthless enemy who could overwhelm western Europe – even annihilate the United States.'
'The identity of this enemy?' Tweed enquired.
'Let me tell you this in my own way, Hilary Vane was a brilliant physicist. She worked part of the time on a top-secret project at the Boeing plant in Seattle. Later she moved to Palmdale, California. We now realize that three top scientists – working on the same project – were kidnapped with their families about three years ago.'
'And the project is?'
'One of the largest and most advanced planes in the world. The Stealth B2 bomber. It is practically undetectable by any known radar – including our own. The process may also have been adapted to. ships and submarines. The enemy may – probably has – these weapons.'
'So we are faced with?'
'Invisible planes and ships. By Stealth.'
14
'I've remembered now where I think I've seen that woman in the wide-brimmed hat before,' said Paula.
She stroked her raven-black hair with one hand, frowning as she sought to marshal her memories. Sitting behind her desk at Park Crescent, she had as an audience Tweed, Newman, and Monica.
Dillon had decided he ought to pay his respects to the Director, Howard. 'And don't think I'm going to enjoy that,' was his parting shot as he left Tweed's office, `because I'm not going to. A bag of wind, if you don't mind my saying so.'
`It was some gesture she made just before she bumped into Hilary Vane at the airport…' Paula mused.
`And pushed the fatal needle into her victim,' Newman commented. 'Cold-blooded murder in broad daylight amid a crowd of people. That takes nerve.'
`Let Paula concentrate,' Tweed chided him.
`Both women have nerve,' Paula observed.
`Which women, for Heaven's sake?' Newman interjected again. He fell silent as Tweed glared.
`Down in the New Forest. Lee Holmes and Helen Claybourne,' Paula continued. 'One of them. The trouble is I just can't recall the resemblance, the gesture. Either woman is tall enough to have played that fiendish role at Heathrow..
`And both Holmes and Claybourne have acting experience,' Monica added. 'I'm building up a file on both those most unusual ladies…'
`One thing I can check,' Paula went on, her mind closed to all interruptions. 'I can phone both places down in the New Forest and see if one of them isn't there.'
`Burgoyne and Fanshawe,' Monica said to herself, checking a local phone directory from her collection. `Here we are.' She scribbled two numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to Paula.
There was an expectant hush in the office. Paula took a tissue out of a box, crumpled it, put it inside her mouth, then wrapped a silk handkerchief round the mouthpiece of her phone to disguise her voice. First she dialled Brigadier Burgoyne's number. She waited several minutes as the ringing tone went on, put down the phone.
`Interesting. No one there. No Lee, no Brig. Now for Helen Claybourne.
She repeated her performance. Again she waited several minutes. The ringing tone went on and on with irritating persistence. She replaced the receiver.
`No one there either. No Helen. No Willie.'
Newman waited no longer. He spoke with great vigour to Tweed.
`Why the hell, I'd like to know, aren't we doing something about Moor's Landing? Poor Mrs Garnett has vanished, as I told you earlier.'
`What do you propose?'
`Put the police on to it. Contact Mark Stanstead. Since you know him he'll act. The next thing we'll hear is Mrs Garnett's body has been found floating in the Solent – like Irene Andover's. A woman has disappeared, Tweed, and I'd have said that was more than enough to turn over the whole of Moor's Landing.'
`You're a great one for premature action occasionally, Bob,' Tweed replied calmly. 'I am deliberately not stirring up that wasps' nest. Yet. We'll let them think they've got away with it.'
`Why?' Newman shot back.
`Because I'm afraid much greater issues are at stake. Let me read a few extracts from the file Andover handed me.' He took the file from a drawer, opened it, began to read slowly.
`Mrs Kramer, get Vulcan on the phone for me. Rather urgently, if you please.'
Dr Wand spent the time while waiting studying the maps on his desk. They showed the south coast of England from Dover to Lymington. He checked other maps covering the coasts of Western Europe from the Dutch border to Denmark across Germany. All of them carried pencil crosses marking certain locations. The phone rang.
`Vulcan speaking.'
`Go to London Airport with our friends at once. Tickets at Sabena desk. We are leaving for Belgium.'
`Understood. There have been intruders at Moor's Landing. Should we evacuate the area?'
`Your opinion, if you would be so kind.'
`Not necessary. I know Tweed. He proceeds step by step until he has all the data before he acts.'
`Then,' Dr Wand replied, 'by going to Belgium we stay a step ahead of him. In any case, arrangements have
