street Mark, Newman and Nield were grappling savagely with different opponents. Bending down, Butler checked the hose. It was firmly screwed to the hydrant. With his gloved hands he picked up the hose and it needed all his strength to twist the tap of the hydrant. Water gushed from the tip of the hose. Raising it, he directed its powerful flow at one advancing group, then another. The power of the jet was so great it knocked flat each thug he aimed at.
Thugs with knives were assaulting the firemen trying to get down off their vehicles, preventing them from intervening. Once he had flattened each group of thugs he could see, Butler switched the jet to the fires burning in the street.
Paula, on her own, was stalking the fat man in a pink shirt. His behaviour seemed very odd. Holding his malacca came in both hands, she suspected he was directing the onslaught. At the very least he was closely observing the effectiveness of the attack. He was facing away from her as she crept up behind him. She rammed her. 32 Browning automatic into his back.
'This is a gun,' she yelled in a fierce voice. 'Shove off and don't come back.'
The fat man dropped his cane. Then Paula was knocked off balance as a thug collided into her. She swung round, hit the thug across the jaw with the muzzle of her gun. He staggered back, slid down a wall, lay still. When she was free to turn round to confront Pink Shirt the fat man had vanished. She couldn't see him anywhere. And his cane had vanished with him.
Tweed was running after Lisa, who was pursuing Delgado. Her raincoat flapped as Delgado disappeared round a corner. As she peered round the corner he struck at her with a club. It grazed the side of her head. She staggered back, fell. Delgado came back, raised his club to finish her off. Tweed grabbed hold of the Beretta, tucked in the back of her raincoat belt. He hauled it out, aimed it point-blank at the giant. Delgado changed his mind, disappeared round the corner. Tweed peered round cautiously, in time to see the giant vanish down an alley. He turned his attention to Lisa.
Her pulse was irregular, her eyes closed. He lifted her as Newman appeared. Appalled, he gazed down at Lisa. Tweed snapped at him.
'We've got to get her to the clinic. No help round here. So drive my car if we ever reach it.'
Newman went wild, using brute force to clear the route to the car. He opened the rear door and, gently, Tweed carried Lisa inside, sitting down with her head on his lap. The rear door was slammed shut, Newman got behind the wheel. The car took off like a rocket, Newman keeping one hand on the horn, blaring non-stop.
CHAPTER 9
They had been waiting at the clinic for an hour. Newman sat on a chair against a wall in the gleaming white-walled corridor. Tweed was pacing up and down, couldn't keep still.
'Why are they taking so long?' growled Tweed.
'They have to give her a thorough examination, I expect,' said Newman. 'She's in a private ward?'
'All the wards are private here. Who were you calling on that wretched mobile?'
'Harry, so he knew where we were. He's on his way…'
He stopped speaking as Butler appeared, hurrying down the corridor. His face was damp with sweat and he had obviously moved after hearing from Newman.
'How is she?' he asked.
'We don't know yet.'
The consultant, Mr Master, a friend of Tweed's, appeared in the corridor accompanied by a tall horse-faced sister Tweed immediately took a dislike to. Master looked at all three visitors with a serious face.
'I have a problem, Tweed…'
'Damnit, how is she? That's what we want to know.'
'Of course. She has concussion at least. The odd thing is she's now conscious and desperately anxious to see you. It can only be for a few minutes. Oh, this is Sister Vandel who will be looking after her.'
'Mr Master, I don't agree with her seeing anyone now,' snapped Vandel.
'You told me that before. What do you think, Tweed? Seeing you might settle her, if she's still conscious.'
'Take me to her now,' Tweed said decisively.
Master led the way down the corridor, opened a door numbered 25. The room was spacious, airy, light. Lisa was lying in a bed under sheets and a blanket. Her head rested on a pillow and her eyes were closed. The right side of her head was covered with a large bandage. Tweed was shocked by her complexion. Normally she had a reasonably high colour but her face was ashen. Part of her red hair had been tied back with a ribbon to keep it clear of the bandage.
'You see,' said Sister Vandel, 'she's fallen unconscious again. This visit is pointless.'
Lisa opened her blue eyes, gazed at Tweed. She raised a limp hand, indicating she wanted him to come close to her. Tweed, upset, but not showing it, smiled, sat down on a chair next to the bed.
'You're going to be all right,' he said softly.
She smiled, raised the limp hand again, telling him she wanted him to take it. He took hold of it, squeezed the fingers tenderly. She feebly squeezed his in appreciation. She was opening and closing her mouth, clearly trying to say something.
'She mustn't talk,' commanded Vandel from the other side of the bed.
Tweed gave her a certain look, cold, fierce. It was a look Paula would have recognized, seen only at rare moments when he violently disapproved of a blunder. Vandel looked away, disconcerted.
Tweed bent closer to Lisa. The expression in her blue eyes seemed to communicate that she was desperate to tell him something. Her mouth opened again and he sensed she needed to speak clearly.
'Ham… Dan.' She made one final effort. 'Four S…'
Then she closed her eyes, letting go of Tweed's hand.
He stood up and Vandel came over to hurry him out of the room. Tweed told Master to send the bill to Park Crescent when Lisa was fully recovered and left the clinic. They were in the corridor, the door closed, when Tweed turned to Vandel as Master walked off.
'Sister, your patient is an important witness. There is a remote risk someone may try to get in here to attack her. I'm therefore posting a guard outside her room round the clock.'
'We do not allow…'
'Sister, look at this.' He produced the folder which identified him as Deputy Director SIS, opened it, held it under her nose. 'If you continue objecting I can always have a word with Mr Master.'
'That won't be necessary,' she said hastily.
'Harry,' Tweed called down the corridor, 'bring your chair up here. I want you to sit by this door to guard Lisa against any intruders,' he told him as Harry arrived, plonked his chair next to the door. 'The only people allowed inside are Mr Master, Sister Vandel here and any replacement she brings and introduces you to while she's off duty.'
'Clear enough,' said Harry, staring blankly at the sister.
'If she recovers,' Vandel snapped, 'she'll have to be taken to another room for a second X-ray.'
'Understood, but Mr Butler will accompany her. Another member of my staff will take over from Mr Butler in a few hours. I will work out a roster of guards. Meantime, Mr Butler is probably hungry and thirsty.'
'A big mug of tea with plenty of sugar and a bit of milk – and a sandwich, ham if you've got it, will do me,' Harry announced.
'We're not running a hotel for visitors,' Vandel rapped out.
'Then I'll have a word with Mr Master.'
'Oh, well, I'll see what I can do…'
She stormed off down the corridor, disappeared. Harry opened his windcheater a few inches, showed Tweed the butt of his Walther.
'No one except those you mentioned will get near her. That Vandal is the dragon of the clinic. There's always one.'
