The Power (87 page)

54

Tweed never did keep his appointment to meet Senator
Wingfield. He heard the news of the President's plane
blowing up soon after take-off from a bell-boy in his
hotel, saw it on television with Newman, Paula and Bar
ton Ives in his hotel room.

Time to leave America while we're still alive,' he said,
using remote control to switch off the TV. 'You'd best
come with us, Ives.'

'Reckon I had,' Ives agreed. 'They play rough over
here - and I told you Wingfield was a patriot, a
ruthless
patriot. But can we make it? They could be coming for us
now...'

'So we put into operation Plan Omega,' Tweed told
him. 'Worked out in advance for just this situation by Bob
Newman and Paula - although we never anticipated a
resort to assassination. Ives, you just stick with us and
remember from now on your name is Chuck Kingsley
when you check in at the airport.'

'Dulles?'

'No, not Dulles. That's a key part of Omega. I have to
call Marler's room, let him know we're leaving within
thirty minutes. No time to explain any more
...'

They were driving by a devious route which could have
taken them to Dulles Airport. Newman was at the wheel of
the rented Lincoln, Tweed was beside him while Paula sat
in the back next to Ives. They
hadn't hit rush hour but there
was traffic. Paula kept glancing back through the rear
window.

'Those two black sedans which started tailing us as soon
as we left the hotel are still there. With a lot of men inside I
don't like the look of.'

'Can you see the three Chevrolets?' Tweed asked
Newman.

'Yes, they're coming up behind us now, appeared out of
side streets. Marler in the green Chevy, Butler in the
white, Nield in the brown Chevy. Marler checked the map
of the city with care, decided where they'd make their play.
Any moment now those characters in their black sedans
are in for a shock ...'

The leading black sedan was driven by an ugly bald-headed thug, surprisingly nicknamed Baldy. He had three
armed men as passengers and the twin sedan behind him carried four more armed men. As they arrived close to a complex intersection Baldy saw Newman suddenly turn
right. He was about to follow when a green Chevrolet swung
in front of him, stopped as its engine stalled. Baldy swore
and braked so abruptly the sedan behind rammed him.

'Get off the friggin' road,' Baldy yelled as Marler got
out of his car, strolled back to him.

'I say, old chap,' Marler drawled. 'Awfully sorry and all
that. The old engine stalled, couldn't help stopping.
These Yank chariots aren't much cop.'

'I said get off...'

Baldy broke off as a white Chevrolet stopped alongside
and Butler got out, shaking his fist, shouting at the top of
his voice.

'You want to learn to drive, buddy. Now we've missed
the goddam lights...'

In his rear-view mirror Baldy saw a brown Chevrolet stopped behind the second sedan so his back-up couldn't move. What the hell was going on? Marler strolled back
to his car while Butler continued shouting. After two
attempts Marler let the engine start, waved his hand over his shoulder, drove on. Baldy rammed his foot down to catch the green lights, turned right, saw no sign of Newman's Lincoln.

'We'll catch the bastards at Dulles,' he informed his passengers. 'We know they booked aboard the London
flight...'

Still working to the Omega Plan, Newman drove to a
Hertz office near a cab rank. He was handing in the
Lincoln when Marler, Butler and Nield arrived to hand in
their rented cars. Two cabs took them to the railway
station where they caught the Metroliner to New York.

'How did you work that one?' Ives asked Tweed as the train sped through the afternoon. 'We were dead ducks.'

'A small precaution. Paula has booked us in our own
names on two flights out of Dulles Airport from Washing
ton to London. Also in our own names she's booked us on two more flights from New York to London - in case they
check. In fact, we'll be aboard a British Airways flight
leaving Kennedy at 7p.m. Seats all booked in assumed
names. We use our false passports made in the Engine
Room - so that's why you're Chuck Kingsley.'

'What made you foresee we might be targets?'

'We know about the six serial murders. Above all,
Wingfield knows we've seen the film which could destroy
America's reputation. So all witnesses have to be eliminated. 'I realized that as soon as I heard Bradford March's plane had been blown up. It gave me the measure of Wingfield's ruthlessness - something I couldn't be sure of
beforehand.'

'And those three different-coloured Chevies?'

'Newman sent a radio message renting them, plus the Lincoln. He specified the colours to make it easy for him to spot the cars if an emergency arose. It did.'

'What are you going to do?' Paula asked Ives.

'Stay in Europe, I guess. To stay alive. Rather like my
new monicker, Chuck Kingsley. Think I'll
keep it. And the way things are developing in the world I guess I'll
build up a security agency. I'm sure you folks will be glad
to get home, have a long rest.'

'We're going straight off the plane to a place called
Padstow,' Tweed said. 'There was a mass murder down in
Cornwall, Paula nearly got killed, and I know who committed that cold-blooded crime.'

55

A wild gale was raging as they walked slowly, leaning into
the wind, along the road in Padstow leading from the
Hotel Metropole to the centre of Padstow town. Paula
clung to Newman's arm while ahead of them Tweed
marched with a brisk step.

'Look, the Old Custom House,' Paula shouted to make
herself heard. 'Where we used to have a drink. How
marvellous to see it again, to be back in England.'

'I think that's where Tweed is heading for,' Newman replied. 'No, what's he up to now?'

Tweed had paused, gestured towards the inner har
bour, entered the phone box he'd used on their previous
visit. From inside he pointed towards the Old Custom House, mimicked a man drinking.

Huge waves were crashing against the outer wall, hitting the stone with a tremendous crash, hurling water and spray high into the air. Paula tugged at Newman's arm to make him stop at the point where Tweed had paused. Moored to a wall inside the inner harbour the
Mayflower
III
rocked up and down, but was safe from the fury
beyond the closed gate of the dam.

'Gaunt must have arrived back,' Paula shouted. 'Let's get inside out of this tumult. I wonder who Tweed is
phoning...?'

Inside the box Tweed had dialled the number of police
HQ in Launceston on the far side of the moor - a distance beyond it, in fact. Responding to his request, he was at once put through to Chief Inspector Roy Buchanan.

'Have you arranged what I asked you to at Tresillian Manor?' Tweed asked.

'Since you called me from London Airport I've been
run off my feet organizing your mad - not to say macabre
-idea.'

'You want the criminal who committed that hideous crime? It needs shock tactics to smoke this murderer out. Go to the manor at once. Keep out of sight and hide your
cars. I'll be there with the suspects as soon as I've
rounded them up.'

'I don't know why I've agreed to this insanity ...'

'Because you've got nowhere solving the mass murder
yourself...'

Hurrying with Newman into the shelter of the warm bar
Paula stopped abruptly. The scene was pure
d
é
j
à
-vu.

Gaunt sat in one of the large leather armchairs on the
elevated level facing the long bar. He was holding court, waving a large hand at his audience. Beside him sat Eve
Amberg, wearing a white polo-necked sweater which did
nothing to conceal her rounded breasts. She also wore a grey pleated skirt and grey pumps. A suede riding jacket
was folded on the arm of her chair as she sipped her drink,

Facing her at a three-quarter angle to Paula was Jennie, listening while she fingered her pearls. A string of pearls?
Why did they disturb Paula? The fourth member of the
group, seated next to Jennie, was a surprise for Paula.
Amberg sat very erect in his black business suit, his slick
black hair gleaming. Didn't he ever wear anything else but
black - and what was he doing in Padstow, Paula wondered.

'We had a whale of a trip down the Rhine in the
Mayflower,
Amberg,' Gaunt boomed. 'Kept going
through the night. Advantage of being able to get by on four hours' sleep - I can. Eve took over the wheel when I
needed a bit of kip. Make a good team, you and I, don't we, Eve?'

'Well, we got here in one piece,' she said unenthusiastically. 'Rounding Land's End in this gale
wasn't frankly
my idea of a whale of a time.'

'Nonsense! You revelled in every second of the voyage. Put a sparkle in your lovely eyes
...'

'Isn't it illegal to sail on the Rhine at night?' asked
Amberg.

Paula had the impression it was the first time the banker
had spoken. He sat with his drink in front of him
untouched.

'Oh, bureaucratic regulations,' Gaunt snorted con
temptuously. 'Never get anywhere if you don't display
initiative. Not in this world run by those fat-cat commis
sioners in Brussels.' He looked at the door. 'I say! Look
who's turned up. Your favourite boy friend, Eve.'

'Why don't you shut your trap?' she snapped.

Newman waved briefly, took Paula to the bar, ordered
Scotch for himself, a glass of white wine for Paula. He
perched on a stool, whispered to her as she sat next to him.

'I've no idea what Tweed is up to. Best to wait until he
arrives.'

'I can't fathom the relationship of those three,' she said quietly. 'I mean Gaunt, Eve and Jennie. Something very
odd is going on
...'

Tweed walked in when they were sipping their drinks.
He ordered mineral water, stood by the bar. He gave them
the order as he picked up his drink.

'Let's join them over there. A few questions I'd like to
ask. Paula, you did park the Land-Rover by the harbour
earlier?'

'Out of sight, round the corner. As you suggested.'

'So, we're all back where we started from,' Tweed
greeted Gaunt's group amiably. He sat perched on the arm of Eve's armchair, staring diagonally across at the banker.
'Except for you, Amberg. What brings you to this remote part of the world?'