usual guise.'
`I'm dressed as a cleaning woman now. I'm on my way…'
Dr Wand put down the phone. He rubbed his large hands together. Everything was proceeding satisfactorily. The next target to check on was in Belgium.
`This is all so weird and disturbing,' Paula said when they had heard Tweed's resume of his conversation with Benoit. 'It sounds like a repeat performance of the experience with Sir Gerald Andover.'
`It does indeed,' Tweed replied. 'I find it most sinister. Which is an added reason for going to Brussels.'
He handed her Andover's file as Cord Dillon came back into the office with Howard. The Director of the SIS was a tall pink-faced man, clean shaven and immaculately clad in a blue chalk-stripe Chester Barrie suit from Harrods. He also wore the obligatory fashionable striped shirt and his accent was upper crust.
`Most unfortunate – to say the least – this incident at London Airport,' he began.
`To say the least,' Tweed repeated drily, wishing he would go away.
`An appalling welcome for our distinguished visitor,' Howard went on. 'And all the information was inside the dead woman's head..
Tweed glanced at Dillon. His expression was poker-faced – clearly he had not said one word about Stealth to Howard, a man he had never liked.
`… so I suppose we'll never know what she was going to tell us,' Howard waffled on. 'I really find this all most regrettable. As you know, Tweed, I'm just back from a visit to Washington.' He looked at Dillon. 'Your Director said there was nothing much going on now. Except the chaos in Russia.' He turned his attention again to Tweed. `So what about the home front..
Huddled over files on her desk Monica groaned inwardly. The home front. Howard would keep using his out- of-date phraseology. His club language.
`Anything startling to report? Any new activity during my absence?' Howard continued.
`This and that,' Tweed replied off-handedly. 'Too early to draw any conclusions. Much too early.'
`Ah!' Howard removed a speck of dust from his lapel, glanced at Dillon, 'Mum's the word?'
Tweed nodded. Howard had assumed that Tweed didn't wish to reveal anything in front of Dillon. A reaction Tweed had stage-managed to avoid telling Howard anything yet.
`I'd better delve into my files,' Howard decided. 'And if you can find the time, Dillon, do come and have dinner at my club one evening. Welcome to the old UK.
Dillon waited until he had gone. He sat in a chair Paula brought for him, started speaking in his usual abrasive manner.
`What the hell I can't understand is how they had someone waiting at London Airport for Vane to arrive. Had to be planned in advance to have an assassin on the spot.'
`Cord, understandably you're probably suffering from jet lag or you'd have seen it yourself,' Tweed said diplomatically. 'This has to be a big, international, organization we're up against. Your flight from Washington was delayed by five or six hours with a bomb scare – which turns out to be a hoax. You must have been seen with Vane at Dulles Airport. The hoax held up your plane's arrival long enough for the assassin to get to London Airport. Diabolically simple.'
`So we listen to a voice from the dead,' Dillon said.
He took out of his pocket a thick velvet sleeve. From it he extracted a slim container and look at Paula. Opening the plastic container he took out a CD disc.
`Paula, that looks like a machine over there that takes CDs. It is? Good. We recorded Vane's edited statement on CD because it's so easy to conceal. Would you mind playing it? I said edited because I want you to hear the guts…'
Paula inserted the CD after switching on the machine. She pressed the 'play' button and sat down to listen. It was eerie to hear the soft-spoken voice of the dead Hilary Vane.
`I spent six years working with Boeing in Seattle on the Stealth project. Two of the most brilliant researchers in this field were Professors Bauer and Rockmann. Both were married and had children. Three years ago I was due to be transferred to Palmdale, California. Just before I left, Bauer and Rockmann were about to have their contracts renewed. Their specialty was aircraft – Stealth. A third equally brilliant researcher, Professor Crown, believed the technique could be adapted to ships and submarines. Crown had been working on his own for some time. Just before I left for Palmdale Bauer and Rockmann disappeared. They left notes behind at their homes in Seattle saying they were moving to another company. Agents from Washington couldn't find any trace of the two men – or their families. Professor Crown came with me to Palmdale. He was married but had no children. He also disappeared with his wife, leaving behind in his Seattle home a note saying the pressure was proving too much, that he'd taken a long holiday with his wife…'
There was a pause. Everyone waited expectantly and Dillon explained.
`Soon you'll hear me ask her a question. Not much more.'
He stopped speaking as the dead woman's voice continued. Paula thought she now detected a shakiness in her tone.
`Again the agents came from Washington and couldn't find any trace of them – Professor Crown and his wife. All three men with their loved ones had vanished into thin air. I found it most disconcerting, made it difficult to concentrate on my work…'
Another pause. Then Cord Dillon's voice asking the question.
`Ms Vane, about three years after Crown vanished, did you suddenly remember something you'd forgotten to mention in statements taken from you at the time?'
`Yes, Mr Dillon. I feel so stupid. It had completely slipped my mind. But Professor Crown went on what I thought was a holiday trip to Belgium before settling down at his new location in Palmdale. When he came back he told me over a drink late at night that he'd found confirmation of his marine Stealth theories from another source. He was very excited…'
Dillon stood up, strode briskly to the machine, switched it off. He removed the CD disc and replaced it in its velvet cover.
`That's it, Tweed. It was only one week ago Vane recalled that conversation with Crown over a late-night drink. Only a week ago that Belgium was mentioned. I come here direct from the President. His orders were that I contact you – he knows your track record.'
`And that's it?' Tweed asked.
`Not quite. We guessed no one would try to disappear from the States by plane. We knew the disappearance dates so we checked on shipping which left the ports of Seattle and San Francisco. When Bauer and Rockmann vanished we found a freighter – which has never returned – left San Francisco. Same with Crown. A freighter – which again never returned to the States – left Seattle just about the time he vanished with his wife.'
`You checked the registration of these two ships?' `Sure. Some obscure outfit we couldn't find anything on Moonglow Trading and Mercantile International.'
`And the destination of those freighters?' Tweed asked. `Hong Kong.'
15
It turned out that Cord Dillon was not only suffering from jet lag. He was also recovering from a bout of flu. He had been glad to leave Tweed's office for his room at the Inn on the Park. Shortly after his departure the phone rang. Monica picked it up, listened, put her hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Tweed.
`A Commander Noble is waiting to see you downstairs.' `Wheel him up,' Tweed ordered.
Newman stood up. He was looking dishevelled and washed out.
`I think I'll get back to my flat and have a bath. That is, unless you think I ought to wait to hear what the Commander has to say?'
`I'd push off.' Tweed smiled. 'I rather think Commander Noble will want to speak to me alone. Naval Intelligence, as you know. I asked him to locate someone..
Newman opened the door as the visitor arrived at the top of the stairs. Nodding to him, Newman disappeared. Commander Noble stood six foot two, had a large frame, was in his late thirties, and had the ruddy
