Blood Storm (35 page)

Dear Paula - Got something to tell you. I'm so excited!
Can you pop over one evening? Soon! Love, Coral.

She was taking it over to show Tweed when Newman
snatched it off her to her intense annoyance. He read it,
gave it back to her.

'Do you make a habit of reading people's personal correspondence?' she snapped.

'I do in the present dangerous situation.'

She glared at him, then gave Tweed the letter as Newman
completed his comment.

'Sounds as though she'd just got a new boyfriend.'

'I agree,' said Tweed, returning the letter to Paula.
'Might be nice to call on her when you can.'

'When I can,' she said, returning to her desk. 'Nice to
know she trusts me.' She held up the front-door key. 'But it will have to wait a few days. I've got my own report you
asked me to type for Howard and a dozen other things in
my lap.'

The door opened and Howard himself walked in.
Normally amiable, his expression was grim. He
chose his favourite chair, assumed his usual seated stance, sprawling
one leg over an arm of the chair. Tweed waited for him to
say something.

'I've read your proposed report on present happenings
for the PM, Tweed. The situation is even worse than I had
realized. I hope you don't mind, but I have strengthened
certain passages.'

'I thought you'd tone them down.'

'We've got to shock him into action with the Cabinet -
with the truth. I would like to wait a few days before I
submit it, subject to your approval. It will give me time to talk to certain important MPs and key civil servants. Then
we drop this bomb in the PM's lap - after the ground has
been prepared.'

'I leave the timing to you.'

Howard, who would have been useless handling Tweed's
work, was a clever diplomat when it came to dealing with
the Whitehall jungle. He dealt with people Tweed had no
desire to meet. Howard was pompous, but he dealt with
pompous people. He studied Tweed.

'You've got so much on your plate yet you look so fresh.
This crazy idea of merging all security services. Then
you are investigating a particularly brutal murder. It's a
lot.'

'I'm coping,' Tweed said.

'I wish to thank all of you,' Howard said, standing up. 'I
do know you employ your many skills to support Mr
Tweed. And a key element in any problem is always you,
Paula. My thanks.'

On which note he left. Paula was taken aback. Never
before had Howard been so nice to the staff. It was a sign
that he appreciated the tension they were all working under.

'I'm going down to Whitehall,' Marler announced. 'To keep an eye on that Cabal. See you . . .'

'And I'm off to my patch,' Harry said, jumping up. 'Something's happening in the East End. Back sometime.'

'Paula,' said Nield, 'would you mind if I go and see
Coral? Can I tell her your package has arrived safely? That
you'll be coming to see her but you're overwhelmed just
now?'

'Wish you would. Saves me a phone call, maybe several
before I get her when she comes back from work.'

'On my way.'

The phone rang shortly after Nield had left. Monica
answered, pulled a face as she looked at Tweed.

'We've got Commander Buchanan downstairs. Wants to
see you yesterday.'

'I suppose I'd better see him.'

Tweed had stood up behind his desk to greet his old
friend. Buchanan, wearing uniform, shoved open the door
roughly, came in with an expression like thunder.

'Welcome, Roy,' Tweed said with a smile. 'Do sit down.
Now, what is the problem?'

'You are.'

'Tell me about it, Roy,' Tweed replied calmly, sitting
down.

'Chief Inspector Hammer wants a statement from you.
Including your movements on the night of the murder of
Viola Vander-Browne. He knows you dined with her at
Mungano's that night. Then
she drove home alone. No
trace of you afterwards. So no alibi.'

'Because I have no alibi,' Tweed informed him quietly.

'Well, you're Hammer's chief suspect,' barked
Buchanan.

'Commander,' Paula called out, 'do you mind keeping
your voice down.'

'Interrupting your concentration, am I?' Buchanan shot
back as he turned to look at her.

'Yes, you are,' she replied.

'Sorry, I didn't intend to do that.'

Buchanan had calmed down a bit due to Paula's
intervention. Tweed waited, hands clasped on his desk.

'I visited you on the day after that horrible murder, said
I'd come back the next day. You weren't here. No one
would say where you'd gone. Now, what about that
statement?' Buchanan asked more quietly.

'I'm the chief investigator. There will be no statement.'

'Oh, dear.' The Commander took off his peaked cap,
mopped his damp forehead. 'Maybe I overshot the mark a
bit. There has been a new terrorist alert and we're working
without any hope of sleep.'

'We have known each other many years, Roy,' Tweed
reminded him.

'I know, but Chief Inspector Hammer—'

'Bloody Hammerhead,' Paula said to herself.

'What was that?' Buchanan demanded, turning again to
her.

'Nothing.'

He was giving her a hard look. She stared straight back, a
certain look in her eyes. He dropped his gaze first, then stood up, the cap in his hand.

'Well, I've done all I can,' he snapped.

'Many years,' Tweed repeated.

Buchanan opened his mouth as though to apologize but
nothing came out. He disappeared.

'What do you think of that?' Monica asked indignantly.

'He's exhausted,' Paula said. 'He had a gaunt look. I
doubt he's had sleep for several days.'

'Nor has Tweed on many occasions,' Monica persisted,
'but he's never lost his self-control. Maybe we can get a bit of peace and quiet now for the rest of the day and evening.'

She turned out to be quite wrong.

It was much later when the phone rang. Monica answered,
called out to Tweed.

'Professor Saafeld on the line.'

'Yes,' said Tweed after picking up his extension.

'There's been another one.'

'I see.' Tweed paused. 'Who? Where?'

'A Marina Vander-Browne. I can give you the address.'

'I know it. Not the same modus operandi?'

'Exactly the same. Suggest you don't bring Paula. It
seems even more hideous somehow.'

'I'll come now.'

29

They were driving in the dark again, through the same
deserted streets. Paula had expected more traffic and she found it puzzling. She looked at Tweed.

'What time is it?'

'About 2 a.m.'

'It can't be that late.'

'It is. You've been working nonstop. So have I. Time has
passed without our noticing it. I'm glad I persuaded
Monica to leave early just for once.'

'Maybe that old lady, the bin scrounger Annie Higgins, will be about. She could have seen something.'

'No sign of her,' Tweed replied as he parked in the main
street. He thought it unwise to drive down the side street
where Marina had lived.

'Why are we getting out here?' Paula asked.

'Because we were here last night.'

They walked rapidly down the murky street, tall terraced
buildings on both sides, a single street lamp outside the
block where Marina lived. Had lived.

'Was it like the Viola killing?' Paula asked.

'According to Saafeld. We'll know when we get inside.'

A police tape was strung across the entrance, each end
tied to a railing. Outside it stood a uniformed policeman,
watching them coming. He held up a hand. Tweed and
Paula held up their identity folders, the policeman lifted the
tape.

'Third floor,' he said.

'Thank you.' Tweed just stopped himself saying, 'We
know.'

He went inside, started climbing the first flight very
slowly. His head was looking down. Paula became irked. At
this pace they would never get there.

'Why are we crawling?' she wanted to know.

'It was raining last night. Tonight too. So an intruder
would have left footprints on these treads. You look, too.'

'I should have thought of that myself.'

'Did you notice,' he asked as he continued his slow
climb, 'that on the ground floor in the entrance hall there
was an alcove without a window?'

'Yes, I did notice that.'

'It could have been vital to the killer. Wait until we've asked Saafeld a few questions.'

They continued their snail-like climb until they were
close to the third floor. Tweed had found no trace of
footprints and he remarked on this fact to Paula.

'It could be significant. Very.'

'In what way?'

'Wait until we've seen Saafeld. I've devoted a lot of
thought to the first crime. Imagining myself as the killer,
how I'd go about it. Quiet now . . .'

Another police tape across the entrance to Marina's flat,
with a uniformed policeman guarding it. They both showed
their folders. The policeman did not lift the tape so Tweed
lifted it himself. He came face to face with Saafeld, who
frowned when he saw Paula. She spoke up firmly.

'I saw the other one. I've been inside your place. I'm
getting used to it.'

'I thought I was.' Saafeld smiled. 'All right. Follow me.
Bedroom down the corridor.' He tapped a closed door. Tn
there the living room. Now. Here we are.'

He led the way through an open door. The bedroom was
large. Paula didn't like the furniture. Too suggestive of
what it was often used for. A very large bed had curtains
hanging from brass rails. A canopy covered it just below the
ceiling. There was a huge long, wide sofa piled up with
cushions, and a large dressing table with three tall mirrors
swivelled at a peculiar angle so they could be seen from the
bed. The ceiling above the sofa was covered with a large
mirror.