'And have you – ceased all operations with our people abroad?'
'I damned well have done nothing of the sort. Tweed, I feel like a prisoner, shut up here in this mansion.'
'You are a prisoner – but a safe one so long as you do not venture out,' Tweed warned.
'Have you any leads?' Howard asked desperately. 'You and your team are the only ones on the outside.'
^! I might have. Just leave everything to me. Soon I'll be very active. Stay calm
Tweed stared at Paula after he'd put down the receiver. 'What do you think?'
'Scared. Who has the power to manipulate the PM to this extent?'
'I'm going to make that other call. To Jim Corcoran, our friendly Chief of Security at London Airport. That is, if he is still friendly. I have his private number at the airport.'
He dialled a number and it rang and rang. When it was answered the speaker sounded irritable.
'Corcoran. Who is it?'
'Hello, Jim, this is Tweed. I need your help.'
'That could be difficult. Under the circumstances.' He sounded cautious. 'What is it?'
'What circumstances? Come on, you owe me more than a few.'
True, Tweed, true.' Corcoran sounded warmer. He paused. 'What can I do for you?'
'Three days ago someone called Joel Dyson – I'll spell out that name.., may have flown to Zurich. I need confirmation if he did. You could find out by checking the passenger manifests. I can be-'
'Check the passenger manifests! Have you any idea just how long that would take?'
'I was going on to say I can be precise. Three days ago, I said. Sometime in the evening. By Swissair.'
That's better. I'm not promising anything. I have to use another phone…
'I'll hold on,' Tweed repeated. 'I'm a long way off and it would be difficult to call you back.'
'Hang on, then…'
Paula, who had listened in, looked at Tweed, puzzled. He shook his head so she wouldn't speak. He put more coins in the slot. Corcoran was back within minutes.
'I've got it. A Joel Dyson travelled first class to Zurich three days ago. Aboard Flight SR 805. Departed Heathrow 2350 hours, ETA Zurich 0225 hours, local time.'
'I'm grateful. One more favour. This call was never made. You haven't heard from me – whoever puts pressure on you.'
'You know, I have a terrible memory sometimes. Tweed, are you OK?'
'No bones broken, not a scratch on me. I was born lucky.'
'Just make sure you stay lucky,' Corcoran said in a grave voice.
10
'I don't understand,' Paula said after they had left the phone box. 'Why these enquiries about Joel Dyson?'
'Let's walk about for a few minutes. There are things I should have told you.'
'Bob and Philip will start wondering what's happened to me…'
The words were hardly out of her mouth when Newman came out of the bar, staring round. Paula waved to him, gave a thumbs-up signal. Newman grinned, relieved to find she was with Tweed. He waved to them and went back into the bar.
Paula led Tweed to the brink of the inner harbour. She pointed to the Mayflower III.
'Believe it or not, that belongs to Gaunt. When I mentioned the fact to him in the bar he looked annoyed that I knew, then said he only leased it. I didn't believe him.'
'Interesting. That's a millionaire's vessel.'
'Could Gaunt be a millionaire? He's always talking as though he's at the end of his tether financially.'
'Millionaires often do that. Talk as though they can't afford to spend a penny or a cent. Which gives me an idea I should have thought of. I'll call Monica down at the Surrey mansion and get her to run a check on our Squire Gaunt. Now, Joel Dyson…'
Paula led him across the car park as Tweed told her what Newman had reported over the phone from Baker Street Station after the explosion. He gave her all the details of Dyson's rushed visit to Park Crescent, about the film and the tape he had left.
As they walked over the white metal bridge above the barrier holding back the level of the water inside the inner harbour, she realized it wasn't really a lock gate. More like a mobile dam which could be opened and closed.
'I once met Joel Dyson,' she said when Tweed had completed his explanation. 'Bob took me into a pub in London for a drink and Dyson was there. A small man with pouched lips and shifty eyes which didn't miss a thing. He speaks with a well-educated English accent – Bob said afterwards he is British. But then he can suddenly mimic being an American and you'd really think he was a Yank.'
'Nasty piece of work, from what I hear,' Tweed remarked.
'Why did you think Dyson might have flown to Zurich?'
'Because Newman told me about Dyson taking compromising photos of Julius Amberg with another woman - Julius was married – and the fact that he persuaded Dyson Amberg could one day be a powerful friend. Dyson then handed the pics to Amberg. I imagine Dyson sacrificed a big fee from Der Spiegel or an American tabloid.'
'So?'
'Dyson made a big song-and-dance to Newman and Monica that he was handing them copies of the film and the tape, keeping the originals for himself. What safer place to hide those originals than in a Swiss bank vault? Specially, at Amberg's Zurcher Kredit Bank.'
'Why narrow his flight to Swissair? Other airlines fly to Zurich.'
'Dyson is an experienced globe-trotter. He'd feel safer aboard a Swiss plane. Especially travelling first class. And their security is first rate.'
'You're right. Incidentally, I was studying Jennie Blade. At the manor when we first saw her I guessed her age at twenty-eight. Now I think she's in her mid-thirties – and very experienced. She intrigues me, does our Jennie. Maybe I'd better get back to the bar or they'll think me rude.'
Paula pointed to the coastal path to the cove where the ferry left for Rock at low tide, then they turned back. Just in time to see Gaunt trooping out of the bar, leading the procession with Newman and Cardon behind him and Jennie bringing up the rear.
'Typical,' Paula said. 'Gaunt treats her like a lapdog. Thank Heaven she can bite back.'
Even as she spoke Jennie, taking long strides, caught up with Gaunt, chattered away to him and then pointed towards Tweed and Paula. She waved and Paula returned the wave as the party approached them.
'You know what you ought to do now, Tweed,' Gaunt boomed out across the car park. 'Take the ferry to Rock.
From over there you get the most terrific view of Padstow – and if you enjoy climbing that's the place for you.'
'We'll consider it,' Tweed replied.
'What do you think of the rowboat?' Jennie asked gleefully, pointing to the Mayflower III.
'Rowboat?' Gaunt roared. 'That's one of the most powerful cabin cruisers in the world.
'He's sensitive about his toy,' Jennie told Paula.
'All aboard that's comin' aboard,' Gaunt bellowed.
He shinned down a short ladder attached to the harbour wall, jumped on to the deck, spread both arms wide.
Isn't she a beauty? I keep her in perfect trim.'
'Like hell you do!' Jennie burst out. She gestured to the brass rails gleaming in the sun like gold. 'I've spent days cleaning up this old tub.'
'I think the ferry is a good idea,' Tweed said.
Anything to avoid getting trapped aboard the Mayflower. Lord knew where Gaunt would decide to sail them
