by Colin Forbes
Newman drove off from her flat first. Paula's car was close behind him. They were nearly at Park Crescent when she honked her horn. Newman glanced in his rear-view mirror, saw her parked, running into a newspaper shop. She came out quickly with the Daily Nation, the latest edition, which the shop's owner told her had just arrived.
She dropped it on the seat, honked again and they drove on to Park Crescent. As soon as she sat at her desk Paula began studying the paper, concentrating on Drew Franklin's column. She smiled, waved her hand in the air in a victory gesture.
'So what is so exciting?' Tweed asked.
'Three cheers for Philip Garden. Harry, that barge thing off the lie St-Louis. You were going to help Philip do something. What was it?'
'Sounded a tricky idea to me. Philip was giving me a frogman's suit while he put on his own. Then we were going to wait until all twenty-five Slovaks from the second coach had been ferried aboard in small boats from a ramp on the lie. Waited a bit longer while they were hidden in the hold. I'd have had two limpet mines with magnetic attachments, Philip one. We'd then have swum out from the same ramp, unseen underwater. I had to attach two of the mines either side of the prow while Philip attached his on the stern. Then we'd have swum to the opposite shore. Philip had a small powerful radio. When he pressed the button the mines would have detonated. Why are you asking?'
'Mind if I see that newspaper?' Tweed asked.
Paula ran across. She had folded the paper to the front page. Drew Franklin's report was very prominent.
IMMIGRAN'I SABOTEURS KILLED ON SEINE
A cunning plan to smuggle Slovak saboteurs into Britain was foiled yesterday evening in Paris. The ship bound for Britain was stationary opposite the lie St-Louis when a huge explosion took out the entire bottom of the ship, which sank quickly. The French police report they are still searching the Seine for bodies.
'So Philip did it by himself,' Tweed commented. 'I really will have to send him more funds. That eliminates the rest of Radek's army of killers, remembering the explosion on the bridge outside Aix. No one like Philip.'
Inside the Cabal's HQ, Noel's expression was murderous. He met the Parrot, who made the mistake of speaking to him.
'You're looking so much better. I was really worried what that tear gas would do to you. You're looking great.'
'Am I?' He raged. 'Well if so it's nothing to do with seeing you of all people as soon as we arrive. Cow!'
'What did you call me?' she shrieked.
'Cow! Cow! Cow! Get your legs moving. We want a gallon of coffee.'
He was menacing. His hands were clenched into fists. He was waving them at her. Hell, she thought, he's going to hit me. She slipped into the next room, slammed the door behind her. Nelson was glaring when Noel sat down at the three-sided table. His voice was a deep rumble.
'That, Noel, in case you've forgotten, is a key member of our team. She deals with all the paperwork.'
'No, she doesn't,' Noel rapped back. 'She takes it next door and dumps it on Coral Flenton.'
'Are you contradicting me?' Nelson asked, leaning forward, his eyes glittering viciously. 'You're not totally indispensable, you know.'
'Lost my cool,' Noel said, recovering control. 'Apologies to you, to both of you. Just back from France. I guess I'm tired.'
'So how did it go in France?' Nelson asked, sneering.
'Partly OK, partly not. You can't win everything.'
'And would this,' Benton asked gently, 'be some of the partly not?'
He pushed across the table the Drew Franklin column he'd cut out of the paper. Noel read it again, as though for the first time. He nodded.
'Someone else handled that. They were going to be the core of our special squad.' He smiled engagingly. 'The OK part is Radek is over here. He's brilliant. Tough as granite but with a subtle brain.'
'You'd better exercise tight control over him,' Benton suggested. 'I've heard of his reputation.'
'Situations on the Continent are different from over here.'
Noel had regained his confidence. Time to assert his position. He smiled at the other two. Then he spoke emphatically to get his message across.
'I should have said things used to be different on the Continent. Look at what happened last night. To all of us, including you, Benton. We were leaving the building when we were savagely attacked with tear-gas bombs, which put us in hospital. Who do you think was responsible? Tweed, of course. So now we pay back. Ruin Tweed's reputation for ever. Then deal rather more brutally with the rest of his team. Put them out of action. At the least into hospital for a long time. Maybe more if they fight back. Agreed?' 'I think you're right,' said Nelson. 'Go ahead.'
23
Tweed was known in security circles for his remarkable intuition, his ability to foresee what the enemy's next move would be. He had just listened to Marler's tear-gas exploit with Harry. Later Marler had checked the hospitals, had found the whole Cabal was undergoing medical treatment.
'The battle between us and the enemy will accelerate. I'm sure they won't take what they suffered lying down. We must prepare for a no-holds-barred counter-attack. So it's vital we strike first. I want those three compromised so they're thrown out of their positions. Marler, Newman, work out a strategy. I'm still trying to track down who slaughtered Viola.'
'I suggest,' said Paula, 'that I visit Coral this evening, turn her inside out. A woman with another woman can often do that better than a man. No criticism of you, Pete.'
'Do it,' agreed Tweed. 'Try to find out more about Viola. What we need is information.'
'What about me?' asked Nield.
'And me?' growled Harry.
'I want you both to guard Paula. Keep in the background so Coral never sees you. I have a feeling Paula could become a major target.'
'So could you,' Harry growled again.
Paula jumped up, operated a lever. Outside the large windows steel blinds were lowered at a slanting angle. They had been designed to ward off explosive grenades.
'Now we're safer,' she said.
'I should have thought of that before,' admitted Newman. 'I also think George downstairs should be armed. Heaven knows he can handle a gun. He was in the infantry.'
'Agreed,' said Tweed. 'Now I'm going to contact Benton. I'm curious as to why he wanted to see me while I was away.'
An hour later Noel, his head covered with an old peaked cap, his clothes shabby, his shoes down at heel, was inside the warehouse. He stood in the large empty room with Fitch and Radek.
'It's open warfare against Tweed and his whole team,' he said, using language he'd have toned down back in Whitehall. 'The key figures are Tweed and his tart, Paula.'
'Kill them?' suggested Fitch.
'I have a better idea,' interjected Radek. His accent was pronounced, his command of English perfect. 'We drive both out of their minds. They end up insane permanently. That will scare the rest of the team stiff. They'll be leaderless.'
'An original idea,' Noel agreed with a sadistic smile. 'I like it. But how are you going to do that?'
Radek opened the large case he had brought with him. He took out a number of viewing screens, four projectors. He attached a screen with nails to each of the four wooden walls. His eyes gleamed as he turned round.
'This way whichever way they look they can't avoid what will appear. We need iron rings inserted into the floor. Tweed and this Paula will be tied to the rings. It should take an hour or so before they go out of their minds.'
'I still don't see it,' protested Noel.
'You will. You may feel queasy after only a short demonstration but that will wear off. Better take these earplugs or you'll go deaf.'
He set up the projectors so that each screen had one projected on it. Then he lifted out another machine, laid it on the floor behind them. They watched as he inserted film then, lighting a torch, switched off the overhead lights.
Noel was beginning to get nervous. What fiendish apparatus was Radek setting up? Radek noticed his nervousness
when he suddenly swung the powerful torch beam straight into Noel's face.
'Turn that bloody thing away from me,' shouted Noel.
Radek grinned. He loved to see a man breaking down. It was one of the pleasures of life. He shone the beam on the projectors, bent down, pressed four buttons, switched off his torch. He stood up to enjoy himself, slipping the earplugs in place.
Each of the four screens began showing moving pictures. Noel gazed, eyes glued to what was showing. Up in the mountains somewhere. Snow on the ground. Thick wooden posts with a man tied to each, wearing hardly any clothes. By each post a man holding a huge axe began swinging it. Noel stared, his face taut.
The first post attracted his attention. The man swinging the axe brought it down in a sweep, sliced off a foot above the ankle. Blood spurted. The axe was raised and brought down again. The second foot was severed. The prisoner's mouth was wide open, doubtless in an unheard scream of terror. The axe was hoisted again, brought down on the prisoner's right shoulder, severing half the shoulder and the arm.
Noel forced himself to glance at another screen. A similar scene, but the axe held by another man descended on top of the prisoner's head, splitting the skull in two down to the neck.
Radek felt for the knob on the other machine, turned it on, his grin even more sadistic. Fitch had earlier inserted his earplugs. Noel had omitted to do this. A diabolical sound filled the warehouse room.
Desperately Noel jammed the plugs into his ears, fumbling one, so he was still subjected to the noise from hell. He rammed the second earplug in place, heaved out a deep breath.
The room had now gone crazy. The bestial pictures. The penetrating screech, rising and falling non-stop. Noel could hear it even with the plugs in place. He looked at Fitch, seated on the floor, staring at one screen, then another.
Noel saw no point in staying in the warehouse any longer. He knew now how Radek was going to operate on Tweed and on Paula. He shouted at Radek to switch on some light. The Slovak turned on his torch, aimed it at the door he guessed Noel would head for, which he did.
Radek was amused as Noel walked quickly, opened the door, disappeared, pulling the door shut behind himself. Not a man for the High Tatra, Radek said to himself. He saw no point in telling Noel he had given him less effective earplugs than those he'd handed to the motionless Fitch. He leant down, pressed the buttons. The screens went blank.
'Think what one hour of this would do to Tweed and Paula,' he told Fitch, who had removed his plugs. 'Two once normal people, now insane. Spending the rest of their lives in an asylum.'
24
'Do sit down, Benton,' Tweed greeted his visitor. 'Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?'
'Coffee would be very acceptable, thank you,' Benton replied.
He had phoned Benton at his home in Hampstead, inviting him over. The Cabal member had accepted the invitation at once.
Only Paula and Monica were also present. Tweed had thought his visitor might talk more frankly if the other members of his team were absent. There was a pause and Tweed studied his guest.
Shorter than Nelson, Benton was in his early forties Tweed guessed, as he had when he had visited the Cabal at their HQ with Paula. Now he had a better chance of weighing up the man's appearance and personality. Round-headed, he had a bald patch on top of his head. His small eyes were greenish and shrewd under heavy lids. He wore a conservative grey suit which did not flaunt expense. His hands were folded in his lap. He gave Tweed the impression of someone with perfect self-control. Monica brought in coffee and Benton took it black, thanking her.
'I am sorry I was not available when you phoned, asking to come and see me,' Tweed said amiably. 'What is worrying you?'
'You are perceptive,' Benton observed in his quiet voice. 'May I ask, have you sent your report to the PM?'
'Not yet. It may come from my Director, Howard. He has just returned from a visit abroad.'
'I see.' Benton sipped at his coffee, then turned to look at Paula. 'I'm losing my manners. My apologies for not acknowledging your presence when I arrived.'
'That's all right,' Paula replied with a smile. 'Welcome.'
'I am worried,' Benton said, turning back to Tweed, 'at the near state of war which has broken out between our two departments. It's unseemly, dangerous.'
'Mainly operated by Horlick, your half-brother?' said Tweed, using shock tactics.
'Oh, so you know about Noel.' Benton chuckled, glanced over again at Paula. 'I'm impressed by your sources of information. I shouldn't be. Your reputation is well known. Noel is the youngest of us, sometimes a bit of a wild lad.'
'Wild enough to screw a cat's neck through a hundred and eighty degrees?' asked Paula quietly, following Tweed's lead with shock tactics.
'May I ask how you know about that?' Benton asked, his manner now disturbed.
'Someone took a photograph of the pillar at the entrance to your father's mansion,' Tweed fibbed. 'Someone else here in London told us about the mysterious incident,' he went on.
'Mysterious is the word,' Benton said quickly. 'We never did identify the culprit.'
'Here is a draft of my report for Mr Howard,' Tweed went on, producing a thick typed sheaf from a drawer. 'It is only a draft, subject to toning down,' he emphasized as he handed it to Benton.
His guest took out a pair of rimless spectacles, began to study the report. Paula noticed that the glasses transformed his whole appearance, gave him a sinister look.
'That's a copy, but I must keep it,' Tweed continued.
Benton read the report slowly. Then he stared at Tweed. 'I would certainly hope this is toned down.'
'We'll have to see.'
Paula noticed Benton, thrown off-stride, was slowly turning the thick sheaf into a roll. Absentmindedly he squeezed the roll with both hands. Paula felt a wave of shock pass over her. The motion of twisting the report reminded her of how someone would screw a cat's neck. As though the thought had been transmitted telepathically, Benton suddenly turned again to look straight at her. His gaze from behind the rimless glasses was disturbing. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde flashed into her mind.
'Oh dear, I'm sorry,' Benton said, turning back to Tweed. 'I was thinking and I've spoilt your copy.' He began unrolling the report, used thick fingers to smooth it out before passing it across the desk.
'Doesn't matter,' Tweed said. 'It's only a copy. So how do you propose to calm down the tense state of affairs growing worse almost by the hour?'
'How do you propose to do that?' Benton rapped back.
'Touche!' Tweed threw both hands into the air. 'We are going round in circles. You could talk to your colleagues.'
'Oh, I most certainly will.' He removed his glasses. 'May I assume you will do the same thing?'
'Depends on any further developments.'
'What does that mean?' enquired Benton, finishing his coffee. He turned in his chair to address Monica. 'That coffee was the best I've drunk for a while. My thanks.'
'It means that there must be no further attempts to attack my staff.'
He stopped speaking as an object hurled from the outside struck one of the metal blinds Paula had lowered. The object bounced off, fell into the street and exploded. Paula jumped up, peered out of the window just in time to see a man in a dark overcoat diving inside a Ford which took off immediately, racing into the main street, fortunately empty of traffic for a brief moment.
'Grenade.' Tweed stood up. 'That's what I'm talking about.'
'Lucky no one was on the pavement in the Crescent,' Paula snapped. 'They'd have been killed.'
'Surely,' Benton began, standing up, 'you don't think that had anything to do with us.'
'I think,' Tweed replied grimly, 'you had best go back to your HQ and have a long talk with your colleagues. By the way, did either Nelson or Noel know you were coming here?'
'No, they were both out. . .' Benton hesitated as though he'd made a mistake. The implication was that the grenade would not have been thrown if they had known Benton was going
to be in the office. 'I did mention earlier that I was coming to see you,' Benton added quickly.
'When was "earlier"?' Tweed demanded, keeping up the pressure.
'I really think I'd better go now.' He paused. 'Truce?' He held out his hand to Tweed who appeared not to notice it as he slipped from behind his desk and opened the door for Benton to leave.
25
In the evening Paula was on her way to meet Coral Flenton. She had phoned first and Coral had sounded delighted she was coming. Tweed had planned protection for her and she had accepted the idea without a murmur. The grenade hurled at the steel blind had shaken her. The protection was heavy.
