contained Butler and Nield.
There had been no one about when Newman dropped off Denise at her Belgravia flat. He had then driven the limo to Mayfair and, unseen, had parked it in a mews. He had then transferred to the car with the dummy while Tweed and Paula had crouched low in the rear.
Howard then stormed into the office, his normal self. Wearing a grey Chester Barrie suit, he was freshly shaved, pink-faced and with neatly brushed hair. He assumed his favourite position, sitting in an armchair, one leg perched over an arm.
'Sensational news from Washington. Morgenstern has resigned as Secretary of State. His action has hit the States like a thunderbolt. He's holding a press conference later today.'
'That's due to Tweed's final interview with him,' Paula said.
'Really?' Howard stared at her before going on. 'And thank you, Tweed, for calling me on your mobile on your way back here in the car. Just afterwards Philip, your naval pal at the MoD, phoned me. That American task force has left the Channel, is steaming back at a rate of knots towards the States. Another sensation. A rumour is circulating the US that a SEALs landing exercise went horribly wrong. Dummy ammunition should have been issued. SEALs were divided into two forces, one attack, one defence. But the ammo issued was the real thing, due to some cock-up. SEALS have twenty-five dead. Combined with Morgenstern's action, all hell has broken loose.' Howard jumped up. 'Must go. Tweed, we will have lunch at my club.'
Paula had answered the phone just before Howard finished. She waited until he had left, her expression bleak.
'Tweed, you have visitors downstairs. Ed Osborne and Chuck Venacki. What shall I do?'
Newman reached inside his jacket. He was grabbing his Smith amp; Wesson.
'Don't do that, Bob,' said Tweed. 'Paula, ask them to come up.'
Ed Osborne entered, quietly and smiling. Behind him Chuck Venacki was also smiling. Tweed stood up, shook their hands, invited them to sit down.
'Everyone here,' he began as he sat down, 'must treat what they listen to as top secret for ever. Meet Ed Osborne who, as far as he could, kept me informed about what Ronstadt was up to.'
'My mother was English,' Ed said, his manner now pleasant. `So I always had a soft spot for this country, totally disagreed with their plan. But the man you should thank is Chuck Venacki, my confidant. He put his life on the line, travelling round with Jake Ronstadt, keeping me in touch when he could.'
'We have you both to thank,' said Tweed.
'That's nice. I can't linger. Felt I just had to come over to see you. Washington is in a state of chaos. The Ambassador here has been recalled – he'll be replaced. And I'm resigning as Deputy Director of the CIA. There's a new director at Langley. Old friend of Cord Dillon's. Guess who's going to get my job.' He stood up. 'Great to see you all survived.' He went round, shook everyone by the hand. 'Take care. I'm off with Chuck.'
'I'm staggered,' Paula said when they had gone. 'But I suspected you had someone on the inside. Incidentally, who was the Phantom's paymaster?'
'Paymistress. Sharon, I'm sure. She must have disguised her voice, phoned Rupert about the targets. She'd guard her identity.'
'And I've wondered about a coincidence. Sharon's parents were killed in a car crash. Years later poor Denise's parents are killed in a car crash on the same bridge.'
'I'm sure Sharon gave orders for Denise's father to be murdered by staging a fake collision on that same old bridge in Virginia. The bridge would linger in her memory as a place where accidents did happen. Never prove it, of course.'
'Another thing,' Paula went on. 'Monica struggled like mad to fill in those mysterious gaps in Ed Osborne's life. She never could find out where Osborne was when he seemed to disappear off the face of the earth for longish periods. Where on earth was he during those long disappearances?'
'That,' said Tweed, 'is something I'd decided to apologize for to Monica. During those gaps he was working for me, so any record was carefully erased. So, that's it. Although I do have one more problem.'
'What's that?' enquired Newman.
'Paula,' Tweed pleaded, 'can you think of some way I can decently avoid that lunch with Howard? I can't stand the food at his club. And I can't stand the other members – they sit there like waxworks.'
