The others? Paula glanced at Tweed as the elevator ascended. He was standing very erect in his most authoritative manner. When the elevator door opened on the penthouse floor Palfry was there to meet them. His expression was important and official.
'This way, gentlemen. Our people are waiting.'
He opened a door into a room they had not seen before. It was probably the dining-room, Paula thought. Very spacious, with a long table that might have been in the boardroom of a large company.
At the far end the Minister sat at the head. Clustered round him on both sides were six men, most of whom Tweed had never seen before. Except for a large man he knew was Tolliver, the recently appointed Chief of Special Branch in place of Jasper Buller. At their end of the table Eva Brand sat down to one side of the top chair. She turned round, gave them a warm smile. No mention of her recent visit to Park Crescent.
'Tweed, you sit at the head of your end of the table…'
Tweed had not moved. He scanned the unknown men grouped round the Minister. He put his hands in the pockets of his overcoat.
'Before I sit down, who are these strangers? I know Tolliver, so it's all right for him to stay.'
'To stay?' Warner spoke in the booming voice used when he was at the despatch box in the House of Commons. 'They are senior civil servants attached to my ministry…'
'We can't have them in on this meeting,' Tweed replied bluntly. 'They can have only a distant view of what is involved.'
'I must insist…' Warner began.
'If you do insist we'll transfer this meeting to Park Crescent. I'm not sitting down until they have left. And I am short of time.'
Tweed turned to Palfry, standing close to him.
'I heard you lock the door. Please unlock it so we can leave now. You can attend, of course…'
There was a muted buzz of discussion at the far end of the table. Then the civil servants picked up their files -you always had to have a file if you were Civil Service. They marched out of the room through the door Palfry had unlocked.
Their noses in the air, they made a point of not looking at Tweed as they left. Palfry re-locked the door. Tweed sat down, indicated to his companions they should do the same at his end of the table.
Warner was glaring at Tweed. He had removed his pince-nez, polishing them with a square of wash leather. A moment before, Tweed had removed his horn-rims, cleaned them quickly on a clean handkerchief, had them back on his nose before the Minister made a performance of replacing his pince-nez.
'I suppose,' he sneered, 'this action of yours emanates from the PM's mandate.'
'We are here, aren't we? Under your own roof. I could have asked for this meeting to be held at Park Crescent.'
Eva, now seated on Tweed's left, leaned over and whispered in her soft voice.
'Coffee is available whenever you wish. Drinkable. I made it myself,' she fibbed.
'Thank you.' He patted her hand. 'Maybe later.'
'Another point,' Warner boomed. 'You objected to strangers attending.' He aimed a long bony finger like a gun at Beaurain. 'What is he doing here? Not a member of your team.'
'Let me introduce you. This is Jules Beaurain. Recently Commissaire of Police in Brussels. Prior to that he was the controller of their anti-terrorist squad. He probably knows more about terrorists than anyone else in this room.'
'Then I'll start.' Warner paused for effect. 'Manchester.'
'What about it?'
'Very experienced operatives of Special Branch have cast their net wide among top flight informants. The word is London is not the target. Manchester is. I have stopped the army moving units south from the Midlands.'
'Manchester!' Newman whispered. 'Stuff that for a lark.'
Eva grinned. Paula kept her mouth expressionless, then winked at Eva.
'You really believe that?' Tweed asked innocently.
'I have to act on information received,' Warner said at his most pompous.
'Then why is it that my network of informants, once described as the most reliable by the present PM, hasn't heard a whisper about this Manchester distraction?'
'Ah!' Very hawk-like, Warner stared at the ceiling. 'You are invoking your position as Supremo.' ,'I have never used that word. It is a fact, though, that I have been asked to coordinate the activities of all the security services.'
'The Supremo,' Warner repeated nastily.
'He's all over the place,' Tweed whispered to Eva.
'Situation normal,' she whispered back. She raised her voice. 'Maybe this is time for coffee to keep us alert.' Beckoning to Palfry at the far end of the table, she whispered again. 'It might cool him down if we have a break.'
Palfry came trotting up to her with a wide smile. 'Can I help?'
'You could organize coffee toute de suite, if you would.'
'My pleasure…'
Tweed leaned to his right as Paula plucked at his sleeve. She kept her voice very low. 'I think Palfry is sweet on Eva.'
'Won't get him anywhere.' Eva, who had more exceptional hearing than Paula had realized, spoke her riposte aloud.
'Sorry.' Paula clasped her hands in prayer to apologize.
'Why?' Eva asked with a smile. 'Proves you are an astute observer. And I could do a lot better than that if I wanted to.'
At the far end of the table a charade was taking place. To cover his confusion Warner was opening files, pretending to consult with Tolliver. The door opened and Palfry walked in holding a large tray with chinaware and a cafetiere. He distributed the cups and saucers while Mrs Carson carried another tray to the other end of the table. Palfry placed his last item close to Eva.
'The cafetiere,' he said.
'I do know what it is,' she replied without looking at him.
They drank coffee and then talked some more. After a while Warner called out in a far more civilized voice.
'So, we are agreed?'
'Agreed that we continue taking the precautions already put in train,' Tweed said firmly. 'Are Special Branch officers in their camel-hair coats patrolling prominently? Outside Buckingham Palace, St Paul's, Canary Wharf -and in force along the Thames Embankment?'
'Your general suggestions have been followed,' Warner replied. 'I think we have now covered everything.'
'We have.' Tweed jumped up. 'Thank you for your hospitality and now we will leave.'
Palfry hurried down the room to unlock the door. As Paula walked out with Eva, Beaurain and Newman followed, Warner strode down the room, plucked at Tweed's sleeve.
'A word with you in private, please, Mr Tweed.'
'You go down to the car,' Tweed called out to his team. 'I will follow in a minute.'
Warner, his expression grave, closed the door. His manner towards Tweed was now polite, even respectful.
'There is a most worrying problem you should know about. In my organization there is a traitor. A top secret file has been stolen. Contains names of al-Qa'eda suspects now held at Dover.'
'Any idea who it might be?'
'None at all. It's most disturbing. Better go now.'
Tweed opened the door and nearly bumped into Eva, who was just outside. She appeared to be studying a file. She looked up and smiled.
'I'll escort you to the elevator.'
