No Mercy (22 page)

The road ahead was clear. No Volvo. Honking of horns
behind him. He proceeded at a sedate pace up Park Lane, searching for the Volvo. It had gone, lost inside another
traffic crawl. He took a deep breath, glanced in his rear-view
mirror. Pete Nield's vehicle was behind him. He headed back for Park Crescent.

'That was deliberate,' Nield growled as they walked to the
entrance of the SIS building. 'Imagine the trial, the
headlines. Your career would have been ruined. Someone
doesn't like you.'

'Someone wants me out of the way,' Tweed mused calmly.
'I've triggered someone's worst fears. By what I've said or
seen. The devil of it is I don't know what the trigger was.

'I must phone Lucinda,' Tweed continued as he entered
the office.

'And you've just been with her for ages!' exclaimed Paula.

'One vital question I forgot to ask,' he told her as he
picked up the phone.

'Tweed here, Lucinda.'

'Can't keep away from me?'

'I forgot to ask you where Lee Greystoke lives.' He just
stopped himself saying 'lived'.

'She has a retreat of her own out in the country. Ready
with a pen and pad? Address: Ivy Cottage, Boxton, Heel
Lane. You take the A355 from Beaconsfield to Amersham.
About halfway along on your right Heel Lane turns off. The cottage is very much on its own, very isolated. It's what Lee
liked. Ivy Cottage is on the right.'

'Thank you. Incidentally, how's Michael?'

'According to Larry he's just the same. At eight in the morning, after breakfast, he walks down the track to the
village, turns round, comes back to the house, then straight
up to his bedroom. He's reading a lot.'

'What sort of books?'

'No idea. I haven't been down to Abbey Grange recently.
The whole business is weird. Don't
understand it.'

'Amnesia's weird. I must go now.' -

The phone rang the moment he'd ended the call. Monica said it was Newman on the line.

'How did you get on, Bob?'

'I didn't. First time I've been rebuffed. Larry has a grim assistant. Attractive but, after contacting Larry, she came back and said under no circumstances was he available. When I persisted she shut the door in my face.'

'Right. What's Larry's address?'

'Five Marlow Street. That's off Pall Mall. St James's Square side of the Mall.'

Tweed repeated the address, told Newman to come back. When he stood up swiftly Paula was fetching his overcoat,
helping him on with it, then grabbing her own. Tweed
looked at her.

'Five Marlow Street,' she said. 'Larry's address? Then I'm
coming with you. He likes women.'

'How do you know that?' he asked as they hurried
downstairs.

'Saw the look he gave me at Abbey Grange. Not the
leering type, but he noticed me.'

As they drove to their destination it was getting dark again.
Not because of the time of day, but because of a threatening
overcast that was descending on London. Tweed found a
space, parked, then walked swiftly back to Marlow Street.
Larry's personal HQ had a heavy black door, a spy camera
perched above it. Tweed pressed his thumb on the bell and
kept it there.

A slim girl with an aggressive expression, smartly dressed
in a black two-piece suit, opened the door and stood with
her arms crossed, glaring.

'Do you have to keep pressing the bell? Once is—'

'I'm here to see Mr Larry Voles.' Tweed held his folder under her nose. 'We have an urgent appointment.'

'I don't think so.'

'Can't you read?' he growled. 'Left your glasses on your
desk? When I arrive I have an appointment. Get moving - go
and tell him. I've met him, for heaven's sake.'

'That doesn't mean—'

'Stop wasting my time or I'll arrest you for obstruction of
the security services. We'll wait inside.'

'You can't—'

'Excuse me.' Gently but firmly he sidled past her with
Paula in his wake. He closed the door, checked his watch
openly. 'I said tell him we're here. I haven't got all day!'

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it
without uttering a word. By now she was worried, almost
intimidated, as she scuttled off.

'You don't have to scare the girl stiff,' Paula said quietly.

'I'm in no mood to be road-blocked. I feel time is not on
our side.'

The girl had knocked on a door, disappeared inside. It
was Larry who came out, smiling at them. He wore a smart
blue suit with a chalk stripe.

'Do come in,' he invited. 'And good to see you again,
Paula.' He held out his hand, clasped hers, but did not hang
on the way some men did. His large office was well furnished
without flaunting wealth. He hauled three leather chairs in
front of his cedarwood desk, waved a hand for them to join
him. He offered drinks. They both refused. Tweed also kept
on his overcoat when Larry offered to take it. Paula was studying him as he sat in the circle of chairs, facing both of
them.

His blue eyes looked at her briefly, conveyed interest
without embarrassing her. His manner suggested a
managing director who dealt with his staff politely but didn't
hesitate to show a tougher side with inefficiency.

'How can I help you, Mr Tweed?' he asked with a smile.

'I gather you gave my senior assistant, Robert Newman, rather a rough ride. Hence my coming over myself.'

'That was my mistake, not Cherry's, my assistant. When I heard he was here I immediately thought a journalist, the
press. Newman
is
famous as a reporter. When he'd gone I
thought, Lord, that was someone on Tweed's staff. Do give
him my apologies.' He smiled again. Paula noticed he smiled
a lot. 'Now, how can I help you?'

'I'm a bit muddled about the relationship of the Voles
family.'

No, you're not. It's a ploy, Paula thought.

'Well, Michael is my younger brother, as you know. Only
a couple of years between us. He's still in the same worrying
state. I whisk down there when I can to see how he is. Not a word so far. I find it unnerving. If I can't get down to
Dartmoor I phone Mrs Brogan. Not that she's a lot of help, as you might imagine, having met her.' He smiled again. 'Lucinda is my sister.'

'And do you know where Drago is now?'

'No idea. He could be in America, France, Sweden. You
name it. I'm sending reports in code to a postal address in
New Orleans. Doesn't mean he's there. Simply that he
has
been there. Then he turns up out of the blue without
warning. He's a character.'

'What does that mean?'

Larry laughed. He waved both hands in a circular motion.

'He's everything we'd all like to be. I can't describe such
a fabulous character. You'd have to meet him to
understand - that is if you ever do.'

'A personal question, Mr Voles . . .'

'Larry, please.'

'Here goes, then. A personal question. Are you married?'

'Wonderfully so. That was my lucky day when I met
Evelyn ten years ago. She's very much a member of the
family but doesn't mix with them a lot. We also have a
penthouse flat in the same building as Lucinda. One floor
above her.'

'Really. So Evelyn maybe has Lucinda as a friend? Living
in such close proximity.'

'I suppose you could say that.' Larry rubbed a hand over
his chin as though deciding how much more to say. 'On the
rare occasions when they meet they are ultra-polite to each other.'

'Which means,' Paula suggested quietly, 'they tolerate each other when they do meet but are not on the same
wavelength.'

Larry leaned forward, patted Paula's hand perched on an
arm of her chair, withdrew his hand quickly. 'It takes a
woman to detect female relationships. I couldn't have put it
so well. These things happen in the best - and the worst - of
families. Lucinda is a very independent lady. Goes to a gym
regularly. Among other delights she boxes with the
instructor. Once knocked him out. A fiercely efficient lady,
our Lucinda.'

'Fierce?'

'She's a tigress. I wouldn't like to take her on - physically,
I mean.'

'Larry,' said Tweed, standing up, 'I appreciate the time
you've given us. You've been more useful than you perhaps realize.'

As they crawled through the West End towards the
City, Paula locked her shoulder bag with the special
device invented by the boffins in the basement at Park ,
Crescent. Tweed had told her the final interview for that
day was with Greystoke, finance director at Gantia. He used Paula's mobile to check Aubrey was in the building known as the Tower. She guessed the security would be
strict.

Tweed kept glancing in his rear-view mirror to see if they were being followed. Paula asked him why he was worried.

'Just a precaution.'

He hadn't told her about the brown Volvo incident in Park
Lane. He didn't want to recall an incident that had terrified him. The traffic was a solid wedge at times. They weren't
crawling; they were stationary. It was in such a situation that
a Jaguar was stopped behind them. The driver jumped out.

144
Marler. He ran along to Tweed's open window, kept his
voice down.

'Crisis. Marin wants us to travel to Marseilles tomorrow.
We go Eurostar, transfer to the TGV. I'll need a couple of
hours in Paris on my own. Weapons. In late afternoon we're
at Waterloo.'

Then he was gone.

'Marseilles, here we come,' Paula said enthusiastically.

'You may change your mood,' said Tweed. 'Marseilles is
the most dangerous city in Europe.'

16

Eventually they reached the Tower. Paula stared out,
pressing her face close to the window. The Tower was so tall,
shaped like a torpedo, the cone at its summit. As Tweed
parked the car at the foot of the escalator leading up to the
monster's entrance, a warden appeared.

'Can't park that here.'

'Can't you read, man?' Tweed demanded, holding up his
identification folder.

'Oh, well, I suppose you have the authority, sir.'

'I damned well
know
I have.'