gift for listening with attentive concentration and unlimited patience.
'He was too physical – always resorted to heavy handling of any suspect at the drop of a hat. A lot of hats – and clangers – were dropped, I gather.'
At the flat McNeil played back the tape of Martel's conversation on the machine kept there permanently, making notes in neat loops and curls. She had offered to make the tea but Tweed insisted only he could make it the way he liked it. You would imagine he had been a lifetime bachelor, McNeil thought, as she went on making her notes. Tweed arrived with theiray of tea as the tape came to the end of the recording.
The block of flats Tweed lived in was self-service. He had a Sicilian woman who came in to clean the place and often complained she was 'illiterate in three languages'. There was a restaurant on the ground floor. Here Tweed, now on his own, led a self-contained existence. He poured the tea as he asked the question.
`Anything strike you about Martel's data?'
`Two things. Delta seems to be acting in a frenzy – as though they're working against a deadline. Bloodbath. That's strong language from Martel in a report. And another reference – something phoney about Delta neo-Nazis. I don't understand what he's driving at…'
'McNeil, you're a treasure. You always spot the salient facts. Makes me feel redundant. I'm pretty sure the deadline is June 2 when the Summit Express leaves Paris – because by morning it will be crossing Bavaria…'
`You're thinking about the Bavarian state elections?'
`Exactly. Three main parties are competing for power – to take over the state government. Dietrich's Delta- the neo-Nazis – the government party under Chancellor Kurt Langer, and the left-wing lot under Tofler, the alleged ex-Communist. If something dramatic happens on June 3, the day before the election, it might swing the election result-into Toiler's hands. For the West it would be a major disaster.'
`What dramatic event could happen?'
'I only wish I knew.' Tweed sipped his tea. 'I'm convinced Delta has some secret plan – hence the frenzy to eliminate anyone digging into their affairs.'
'What about the reference to something phoney?'
McNeil sat quite still, watching Tweed gazing owlishly through his spectacles into the distance. He was, she knew, capable of sudden flashes of intuition – a leap into the future he divined from just the sort of ragbag of facts Martel had provided.
'It has the feel of a separate cell operating secretly inside Delta,' Tweed said slowly. 'That's the only explanation for some of their actions which seem to be designed to ensure they lose the election…'
'Now you've lost me,' McNeil commented tartly.
'Where have you two been?'
Howard was waiting for them when McNeil and Tweed returned to the latter's office. Standing stiff-backed he had the window behind him -so his own face was in shadow while the new arrivals were caught in the full glare of the light from the curved window. He clasped his hands over his stomach which was decorated with the double loop of a gold watch-chain.
Very militant in mood as well as stance, Tweed observed as he sat behind his desk. He knew the type only too well. An inferiority complex as large as Everest – so they compensated by periodic assertions of authority, just to make sure they still held it.
'Went for a walk in Regent's Park,' Tweed lied blandly. 'You're working on a problem?' Howard pounced.
The SIS chief was in a nervous state of mind, McNeil decided. She was carrying the empty hold-all inside which she had smuggled out Martel's tape to the flat in Maida Vale.
'What's inside that hold-all?' Howard demanded.
'Cheese sandwiches – Cheddar, if you must know,' Tweed interjected. 'k's better than the Cheshire – more flavour..
'Could you very kindly find something to do elsewhere?' Howard asked McNeil, who promptly left the room, still carrying the hold-all.
'Have you heard from Keith Martel?' Howard barked as soon
'He was too physical – always resorted to heavy handling of any suspect at the drop of a hat. A lot of hats – and clangers – were dropped, I gather.'
At the flat McNeil played back the tape of Martel's conversation on the machine kept there permanently, making notes in neat loops and curls. She had offered to make the tea but Tweed insisted only he could make it the way he liked it. You would imagine he had been a lifetime bachelor, McNeil thought, as she went on making her notes. Tweed arrived with theiray of tea as the tape came to the end of the recording.
The block of flats Tweed lived in was self-service. He had a Sicilian woman who came in to clean the place and often complained she was 'illiterate in three languages'. There was a restaurant on the ground floor. Here Tweed, now on his own, led a self-contained existence. He poured the tea as he asked the question.
`Anything strike you about Martel's data?'
`Two things. Delta seems to be acting in a frenzy – as though they're working against a deadline. Bloodbath. That's strong language from Martel in a report. And another reference – something phoney about Delta neo-Nazis. I don't understand what he's driving at…'
'McNeil, you're a treasure. You always spot the salient facts. Makes me feel redundant. I'm pretty sure the deadline is June 2 when the Summit Express leaves Paris – because by morning it will be crossing Bavaria…'
`You're thinking about the Bavarian state elections?'
`Exactly. Three main parties are competing for power – to take over the state government. Dietrich's Delta- the neo-Nazis – the government party under Chancellor Kurt Langer, and the left-wing lot under Tofler, the alleged ex-Communist. If something dramatic happens on June 3, the day before the election, it might swing the election result-into Toiler's hands. For the West it would be a major disaster.'
`What dramatic event could happen?'
'I only wish I knew.' Tweed sipped his tea. 'I'm convinced Delta has some secret plan – hence the frenzy to eliminate anyone digging into their affairs.'
'What about the reference to something phoney?'
McNeil sat quite still, watching Tweed gazing owlishly through his spectacles into the distance. He was, she knew, capable of sudden flashes of intuition – a leap into the future he divined from just the sort of ragbag of facts Martel had provided.
'It has the feel of a separate cell operating secretly inside Delta,' Tweed said slowly. 'That's the only explanation for some of their actions which seem to be designed to ensure they lose the election…'
'Now you've lost me,' McNeil commented tartly.
'Where have you two been?'
Howard was waiting for them when McNeil and Tweed returned to the latter's office. Standing stiff-backed he had the window behind him -so his own face was in shadow while the new arrivals were caught in the full glare of the light from the curved window. He clasped his hands over his stomach which was decorated with the double loop of a gold watch-chain.
Very militant in mood as well as stance, Tweed observed as he sat behind his desk. He knew the type only too well. An inferiority complex as large as Everest – so they compensated by periodic assertions of authority, just to make sure they still held it.
'Went for a walk in Regent's Park,' Tweed lied blandly. 'You're working on a problem?' Howard pounced.
The SIS chief was in a nervous state of mind, McNeil decided. She was carrying the empty hold-all inside which she had smuggled out Martel's tape to the flat in Maida Vale.
'What's inside that hold-all?' Howard demanded.
'Cheese sandwiches – Cheddar, if you must know,' Tweed interjected. 'k's better than the Cheshire – more flavour..
'Could you very kindly find something to do elsewhere?' Howard asked McNeil, who promptly left the room, still carrying the hold-all.
'Have you heard from Keith Martel?' Howard barked as soon
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