he decided.
They all lifted a left hand. Noel stood up, careful not to smile. 'Then I'd better go outside and make a phone call.'
Tweed and Paula arrived at Park Crescent to find the whole team in the office. Marler was stuffing his flying gear into a large bag, first trying on his flying helmet to make sure it fitted comfortably.
'What's going on?' Tweed asked as Monica took his overcoat.
It was Harry who answered. He wore his camouflage jacket. He was tucking away grenades, one into each pocket.
'Marler and I have decided we'd better check up on that truck, make sure it's still there. Marler is flying me down there. He says you told him there was a landing place on top of the big hill.'
'Mountain High,' Tweed recalled. 'I want everything tricky dealt with. And fast.'
'Then if the truck's still there with no one about I could blow the thing up myself,' Harry offered.
'Do it. Paula and I cleaned up one dangerous aspect in the early morning. I presume you all know there's been another horrific murder. Another woman. Same beastly method.'
'It's in the late edition of the Daily Nation,' Newman said. 'Drew Franklin's column. He really does have a marvellous network of contacts.'
'And off the record,' Tweed snapped, 'I imagine a chief inspector's wallet is fat with another two hundred pounds. Can I see the report?'
'We're off,' Marler said, leaving with Harry as Tweed read:
SECOND VANDER-BROWNE HORROR MURDER
Another House of Death now exists in London. The brutally mutilated body of Marina Vander-Browne was discovered at her Mayfair address early this morning, similar to how her sister, Viola, was cut to pieces only a week ago. Chief Inspector Hammer said they were making progress with their investigation.
'Making progress backwards,' Tweed snorted, handing the newspaper back to Newman.
He stood up, swept his gaze round the remaining members of his team. From his expression they knew something grim was coming.
'You should all know that Professor Saafeld believes this fiend – man or woman – may strike again during the next few days.' The timbre of his voice was deep. 'Saafeld calls it blood storm. The killer gets a surge of desire to murder and as this surge accelerates, the time gap between his slaughters decreases. We have only days to identify who it is. I want to know as much as we can extract from all the members of the Cabal, as one approach. Newman, you will do your best link up with Noel, to grill him. Nield, your target is Benton. Paula, you interview the Parrot.'
'Can I wait a few hours to do that?' Paula requested. 'I've somewhere I want to go before I see her.'
'Agreed,' Tweed said abruptly. 'I will take on Nelson, but that may have to wait until the end of the day. Howard wants me to go through the report for the PM with him. The timing of showing him that document is vital. Marler and Harry will be given their assignments when they return from Peckham Mallet. Then I may have to make a quick trip to interview General Macomber. I will be back late this afternoon.'
'You're going down there alone?' Paula asked anxiously.
'Yes. No argument. The General is up to something. Here is a tip which might help you all. We are looking for someone – again man or woman – who is capable of the most sadistic cruelty.'
'Who screwed the cat's neck through a hundred and eighty degrees all those years ago,' Paula suggested.
'Possibly. Remember, we have perhaps only two days to prevent a third horror.'
In the afternoon Tweed was driving towards Tolhaven and the ferry to Black Island when Marler and Harry returned to the office from their trip. But they had flown there together with Marler as pilot of his light aircraft and Harry trembling beside him.
'I could do with a tot of brandy,' Harry gasped.
He was making an effort to walk steadily. Monica jumped up, opened a cupboard, grabbed a bottle of brandy and a glass. She poured a stiff tot. He swallowed half of it, heaved a sigh of relief. He swallowed the rest, stood up straight from the hunched position Monica had noticed when he had entered the office.
Marler, a sardonic smile on his face, had followed him in.
Harry assumed his favourite position, seated cross-legged on the floor. Marler walked past him, stood against the wall, put a cigarette in his ivory holder, lit it.
'We've had a bit of an adventure,' he drawled.
'A bloody nightmare,' snapped Harry.
'I'll tell you what happened,' Marler began. 'Monica, you might take this down. As a statement for Tweed…'
32
Marler drove them to a private airfield outside London where his light aircraft was housed. The owner ordered his team to trundle the machine on to the runway.
Marler was handing a helmet equipped with earphones to Harry. He explained this was so they could communicate with each other clearly in midair. Reluctantly Harry donned the helmet.
Dazed with apprehension, Harry, who hated flying, found himself seated next to Marler as the plane took off, climbed. It was a brilliantly sunny day, warmish for April. Not a cloud in the sky.
'Wobbles about a lot,' Harry complained.
'Actually, old chap, we are flying very steadily. Look out at the scenery. Marvellous view.'
'Is it?'
Harry stubbornly stared straight ahead as Marler studied the map, checking the route to Mountain High near Peckham Mallet. Near General Macomber's cottage. He glanced at Harry's ashen face.
'Shouldn't take long to get there.'
'Seems like forever already.'
'Relax. I once flew this plane down to Provence in the south of France.'
'Thank Gawd I wasn't with you.'
'Harry, take this with that bottle of water I gave you. It's a Dramamine pill. Paula swears by them when she's flying over the Atlantic. An eleven-hour flight to San Francisco.'
'She takes one?' Harry stared dubiously at the small yellow tablet. Marler waited until he had swallowed it before he replied.
'Actually, she doesn't. But she persuades Tweed to take one if he's flying or on a sea crossing.'
'Does it work for her – him?'
'Yes, it does. Every time.'
'Well, it's not working for me.'
'Give it a few minutes to get into your system.'
Harry sat very still, grimly silent. Marler was looking down, admiring the beautiful countryside, clear as crystal in the sunlight. Rolling downs like frozen green waves, dense evergreen forests, cars looking like tiny models crawling along motorways. They had crossed from Surrey into Sussex.
'May be a bit of turbulence ahead,' Marler warned.
'What's turbulence?'
'Plane might rock a bit from side to side, up and down.'
'Take me home.'
'We always complete our missions,' Marler said sternly.
'Do these things ever crash?' Harry whispered.
'Not with me as pilot.'
The plane suddenly swayed from side to side. Then it dropped, climbed again. Marler again glanced at Harry. He had a dozy expression, was now looking out and down. The plane was now flying on an even keel.
'Bit bumpy there for a moment,' Harry commented.
