Blood Storm (34 page)

His mind was churning as he drove slowly. It was the
time of night when drunk drivers happily assumed there
would be no one else on the road. His mind was still
churning as he parked his car in
the nearby mews, only a
short walk from his house.

His mind was churning on the thought of the Parrot
sleeping in that downstairs bedroom overlooking the street.
With the window open.

28

Tweed was early at the office. He hadn't slept much, but
was exceptionally alert. As he greeted George and started
running up the staircase George called up to him.

'Gentleman waiting for you . . .'

'Who?'

'Didn't give a name. Not the sort of chap you bandy
words with. Said he'd an appointment with you.'

Tweed walked into his office. Monica raised her hands in a gesture of helplessness. Seated in the chair facing his desk
was General Lucius Macomber, very erect and dressed in a smart business suit.

'Didn't expect you,' Tweed said, taking of his coat, which
Monica caught. 'You're an early bird. General.'

'Been like that all my life. Just got back from a meeting
with my three cursed offspring.'

'They were early too,' Tweed said in surprise, sitting in
his desk chair, facing his visitor.

'Had to be. I phoned them. Told them to be at their
station an hour ago. They were, of course.'

'I hope you enjoyed your visit.'

'I did. They didn't.' The General bared his teeth in a
grim smile. 'I did all the talking. They
listened. Kept quiet.
Which is the way it should be.'

'May I ask what you told them?'

'You can. You're a bright chap, Tweed. Know what's
going on. So do I. Told them they were a bunch of lunatics.

Merging the security forces into one big dinosaur. They didn't like what I said.' He paused as he let out a barking guffaw of amusement. 'You agree with me.'

'I think it's madness.'

'Good chap. Between us we'll stop them. No doubt
about it.'

He slapped the palm of his hand so hard on the desk
Monica jumped behind him. He turned round, gazed at
her. 'That woke you up, didn't it? You look like an asset.' He turned back to Tweed, switched the subject.

'Things are hotting up on Black Island. The locals are in a state over those buildings sprouting up at the western tip. No good just being in a state. Do something about it, is my motto. They were up in arms about the oil refinery when it was built. Expect you saw it while you were down there.'

'No, I didn't.'

'The tide must have been high. The fellow who ferries
you across guides his barge in an arc to the east. You
wouldn't see it. If he takes you over at low tide he goes straight across to Lydford. You'll damned well see the
monstrosity then.'

'I'll look out for it next time I'm down there.'

'Nice to chat with you.' The General stood up. 'Must go.
Time waits for no man, and all that. Got equipment to buy.'

'Will you be in town long?'

'No. Three or four days. Must get a bit of relaxation
while I'm up here.' He stretched out a hand. 'We're in this
together. Right?'

'Right,' said Tweed as he stood, shook the extended
hand.

'I'm off.' He turned to Monica with a smile. 'Don't you
let this taskmaster run you into the ground. You know what
the late President Reagan once said?'

'No, sir. I'm afraid I don't.'

'"They say hard work never killed anyone, but why take
the risk?" Great man, Ronald Reagan.'

Then the General was gone. Like a hurricane arriving and departing. Tweed sat still for several minutes, then
spoke to Monica.

'Did he leave an address where we could get hold of him?'
'No.' Monica spread her hands again in the helpless
motion. 'I did ask him that when he'd stormed in. He just turned round, smiled, said, "No, you can't.'"

'I wonder what he meant by getting a bit of relaxation?'
Tweed looked disturbed as he asked the question. He was gazing out of the window, as he did when he con
templated something dangerous.

Shortly afterwards Tweed asked his second question as
Marler arrived, followed by Newman and Harry with Pete
Nield.

'I wonder what sort of equipment he plans on buying
while he's up here.'

'Who was up here?' Marler asked.

Tweed gave a resume of his conversation with the
General. It didn't take him very long.

'What was his real reason for coming?' Paula mused,
sitting at her desk.

'I'm not sure,' Tweed told her. 'His mind moves like lightning. He's got the energy of three young men. There
was a whiff of scandal about him, as I recall it, after the end
of the Gulf War. A captain he'd had to discipline told a
reporter the General had ordered his men to shoot down a
bunch of Arabs who came over a ridge with their hands up.'

'Did he?' Paula asked.

'Yes. Fortunately a TV reporter attached to the army had
been filming everything at the time. The film clearly
supported what the General said had happened. A line of
Arabs had crossed a ridge just as the war started, hands held up. They were followed almost at once by two more lines of
Arab troops, all carrying automatic weapons. It was a trap.
If the General's troops had moved forward to take charge of
the Arabs "surrendering" they'd have been mown down by
the second and third lines. And they had more coming
behind them. So the General was a hero, as he should have
been. Trouble was the first reports had already appeared in
the press. People remember the so-called bad
things, forget
the truth which later comes to light.'

'The General is smart,' Marler commented. 'And virile.'

'What was that word you used?' snapped Tweed,
jumping to his feet.

'Virile.'

'The same word Frank, the keeper of the Crooked Village
on Black Island, used.'

Tweed wandered over to the window. He stood staring
into the distance. Monica knew he was disturbed again.

In the Fulham Road, on the opposite side to Paula's flat and
a distance back, an old Ford was parked. Inside and behind
the wheel Fitch had glasses glued to his eyes when, earlier,
Paula had left with Marler.

'It's her,' he said to Radek, seated by his side.

'I can see that,' Radek growled, 'and without peering
through binoculars. She's well guarded, was when she came
back early this morning. We'll have to wait.'

'For what?' Fitch demanded aggressively.

'For when she returns home alone - or, better still, with
Tweed. Then we can grab both of them.'

'Could take for ever.'

'I've waited in the same spot for three weeks to kill a man.
Patience is the key. Or we could start a fire or a riot in the
East End. That might send most of the team away from
her.'

'Tricky. That schmuck Harry lives somewhere down
there. He might catch on. So how are you going to start a
fire?'

'Take in concealed beer bottles filled with petrol. Order
drinks, sit in a dark corner. Spread the petrol on the floor.

Use a cigarette lighter and clear out in the panic. The Pig's Nest would be a good place.'

'It might just work.' Fitch said. 'Needs thinking about.'

Harry had disappeared from Park Crescent without saying
a word to anybody. No one worried. Harry was inde
pendent at times in the decisions he took. He returned in
the early afternoon, carrying his 'tool-kit' bag.

'May we ask where you have been?' Tweed enquired
gently.

'You may. While you lot have been sitting on your
backsides, chewing the fat, I've dealt with something you asked me to do when I could. I've just driven to Peckham Mallet. Found the place on the map. Paula told me earlier
how to find it.'

'And?' Tweed persisted as Harry drank from a bottle of
water Paula gave him.

'That truck you saw parked in a field,' he said to Tweed.
'It's still there. No one about. Not even the guard. I
checked in the quarry where you'd hidden him after Paula
hit him on the nose.'

'He's not still there?' she said anxiously, wondering if
she'd hit him too hard, maybe killed him.

'No, he wasn't. And I could see his footsteps in the chalk
where he'd hauled himself out of it. Now, that truck.'

'What was inside it?' she asked, so relieved at hearing the
guard had to be alive and well.

'A small load of Semtex, attached to wires leading to the
detonator box. So I fiddled with the wiring. When it was attached to the detonator the clock was at zero. Now it's at sixty seconds. I also found a map showing the way to
Richmond Park.'

'Oh, my God!' exclaimed Newman. 'Exploded there it would cause a mass slaughter.'

'No, it wouldn't,' Harry contradicted him. 'The route
marked led to a side entrance a long way from the river.

Hardly anybody uses that entrance. I checked on my way
back. Not a soul about.'

'Well, what will happen when the driver arrives to
position it?'

'He'll get in, start the engine. The vibrations will set off
the clock, then the detonator. I doubt if he'll have even
moved forward before the whole caboose explodes harm
lessly in the field. End of truck, end of driver.'

'Well, that's one worry off our minds,' Tweed com
mented. 'So many thanks to you, Harry.'

'All part of the job.'

A moment later George appeared. He was holding an envelope sent by registered post. He took it over to Paula.
'For you,' he said and left the office quickly to return to his
post.

'I recognize the handwriting,' Paula said. 'It's from
Coral

'Stop!' Tweed had jumped to his feet. 'Don't open that. Take it downstairs and have it X-rayed.'

'I think that's carrying security a bit far,' she grumbled, but she left them with the package to consult a boffin. She was back quickly. 'It's OK. The X-ray showed a key and a
folded sheet of paper. If you don't mind, I would like to open it.'