Read Vorpal Blade Online

Authors: Colin Forbes

Tags: #Tweed (Fictitious Character), #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Action & Adventure, #Fiction

Vorpal Blade (12 page)

'You tell me.'

'All through the dinner she chatted but her cold grey
eyes were sweeping the room methodically, checking up
on who was there.'

'Gives us rather a different view of Sophie,' Tweed said
thoughtfully. 'I was near her and didn't spot her trickery.'

The phone rang. Monica listened, called out to Tweed.
'A Mrs Brucan is waiting downstairs to see you.'

'She was coming at eleven o'clock.'

'It is eleven o'clock,' Paula told him. 'You arrived
late.'

'I should have realized. Mrs Champion, my new neigh
bour, was leaving at the same time. She goes off at ten thirty to her fashion design business.'

'Tweed,' Paula said, studying a pen she was twirling
between her fingers, 'she's that rather beautiful widow who
waved at us when we were getting a meal one evening. I
thought so. You really should ask her out.'

'Mrs Bruchan is the first on the agenda today.'

'The lady downstairs who can see into the future,' Newman mocked.

Marler walked in as he spoke, wearing a new grey suit
with a tiny check pattern, crisp white shirt, Chanel tie. He
made his remark to Newman as he walked across to lean against the wall close to Paula, taking out a cigarette.

'If she can see into the future maybe she can tell me
next week's lottery numbers.'

'She'll be a waste of time,' Newman replied, disgusted.

'Suspend judgement until we've seen her,' Tweed advised.
'Wheel her up, Monica.' All eyes turned to the door
when Monica had left, wondering what apparition would
arrive.

Paula suppressed a gasp as Elena Brucan walked in. She
was the lady she had seen across the road, watching the
ACTIL building. Their visitor was small, probably no
more than five feet tall, in her late fifties or early sixties. She was still clad in her pale green overcoat, her green fur
hat. But it was her face which intrigued Tweed. A hint of
the Slav in her well-moulded cheekbones despite a full
face. Under thick dark eyebrows she had large observant almost black eyes above a strong nose, a wide mouth and
a chin expressing character. Her smile was glowing and
warm and she moved nimbly. There was something about
her presence which created a hush in the room.

Tweed, standing up with Newman, introduced her to
Paula who was again surprised, this time by the firmness
of her grip.

'And this is Marler.'

She walked closer to him, felt his suit. 'This is the first
time it's ever been worn.'

'True enough.'

'You're a man of great kindness.'

Behind their backs Newman stared at the ceiling in
sheer disbelief. Paula on the other hand agreed with Elena.
Marler, she knew, had helped many people in trouble, but
by stealth. He never wanted anyone else to know.

'Over there,' Marler said, indicating Newman, 'is a
gangster.'

Newman was clad in blue jeans, an open-necked shirt
and a jacket he'd hastily put on before their visitor
appeared. Elena went over to shake his hand, still smiling.
She shook her head over her shoulder at Marler.

'He could cope with gangsters. He's a formidable charac
ter. But he's very human, a man of great honesty. I would
trust him with my life.'

'Do sit down,' Tweed urged her when she had shaken hands with Monica. He was anxious to hear if she had
anything important to say. 'And please don't attempt to
analyse my personality. I'd find it embarrassing in front of
my staff. Now, Chief Superintendent Buchanan said you
might have something to tell us.'

'Many won't believe this but I was born with a gift for assessing people. Thank you, my dear,' she said to Monica who had handed her a cup of coffee. 'Early yesterday morning, probably before anyone arrived at the ACTIL building -I saw one individual arrive and unlock the doors - I felt I should wait there.'

'Why?'

'I don't know. I was just out for an early morning walk. I suppose I was caught by its strange shape, like an enormous drum with a cone perched on the top.'

Tweed was undergoing a strange experience. Elena sat
facing him, her glowing eyes never leaving his. He felt she
was able to see right inside him. He held her gaze as he
continued his gentle interrogation of this nice woman.

'You saw the staff arrive?'

'Yes. Sometimes in a group, sometimes individually.
I do recall a very tall lady, very smartly dressed and
beautiful, who moved quickly, very upright.'

Marienetta, Tweed thought.

'But there were so many people going in there.'

'Excuse me,' Paula called out, 'you were taking pictures
of some of them with your camera.'

'Quite right. Miss Grey,' Elena agreed, turning round.
'But I took pictures of
all
of
them.'

'Including the Vice-President of America?' Tweed sug
gested.

'Oh, yes. I took several of him, both coming and going.
I have all the developed prints in my handbag. I'll give them to you before I leave. It was while you were there
that an unpleasant guard came over and told me to leave.
He didn't know about my small camera hidden between
my fur gloves.'

'How did you react?' Tweed asked with a smile.

'I told him this was Great Britain, that visitors were
permitted to stand in the street providing they were not
committing a crime. So what crime was he going to charge
me with?'

She's gutsy,
Paula said to herself.

'That confused him,' Elena continued, 'so he went back
to the building and I stayed where I was.'

'You come from Romania, I understand,' Tweed mentioned.

'Yes. I was there for a short time under Ceausescu's evil
dictatorship. I had met him just before he seized power. He took an instant dislike to me. And he worried me. As soon as he became dictator he sent secret police to where I was living. I saw them coming, slipped out down a back staircase into a maze of alleys. I hid with friends and then escaped from Bucharest to Paris and on to here.'

'This is what Buchanan wanted you to tell me?'

'No. Watching all those people go inside the ACTIL
building I sensed great evil very strongly.'

'One particular individual?' Tweed asked casually.

'I don't know. I have copies of the photos I'm giving
you. I want to study them. Then maybe, sooner or later, I'll know.' She leaned forward, spoke intensely. 'The
sensation of terrible evil was so strong my hands shook.'
She turned to Paula and the smile returned. 'Luckily I was
not using my camera when this happened.'

'You sound so sure,' Paula told her.

'I was absolutely certain,' she said vehemently. 'Now
I have wasted enough of your time.' She took a large
envelope out of her embroidered handbag, placed it on the desk. 'There are the photos.'

'I don't think you have wasted my time at all,' Tweed
assured her as Elena stood up to leave. 'We shall carefully study the photos you so kindly have given us. And maybe
sometime you would join me for tea at Brown's.'

'Oh, yes please, and thank you. I love their tea - the
best in the world.'

'I'll escort you to the front door.'

'Again, thank you. Oh, inside the envelope is a card
with my address and phone number. I live not far from Roy Buchanan . . .'

6

'Paula, Bob, tomorrow you're flying with me to Maine,'
Tweed announced, returning from seeing off Mrs Brucan.

'Maine?'

Paula could hardly believe she'd heard correctly what he
had said. Out of the blue they were on the move. Tweed
had done this before - suddenly taken off - but never so
dramatically.

'This is terrific,' she said almost wildly. 'Why?'

'I thought a lot last night before I eventually fell asleep.
Woke up this morning, took the decision. Why? Because I want to see where that caretaker, Hank Foley, was murdered. I want to see the area, to ask questions about
that asylum, nursing home - whatever. When I was at the
Yard I was notorious for wanting to see everything in a case
for myself. But I should warn you both it will be tricky,
dangerous even.'

'Why?' Newman asked this time.

'Because we're flying into the unknown. From my flat
I did call my old friend Cord Dillon of the CIA . . .'

'He's still Deputy Director?' Paula wanted to know.

'He is. He's taking a chance too. We're flying into
no-man's land with no authority. Cord gave me a contact
in Portland. The Chief of Police. But I'm sure there are
people over there who won't want me poking my nose in.
I'll just have to bluff my way through.'

'We fly to Portland?' Newman asked.

'No. Can't do that. I called Monica, who as usual was here before either of you. She's planned the only possible route, called me back. We fly United to Boston, arrive after dark. About a six- or six-and-a-half-hour flight. At Boston we can link up with a commuter flight from Boston to Portland. We'll hire a car there, drive down to Pinedale, then back to Portland, catch another commuter flight to Boston, linking up with the flight home. Doubt if we'll be there twenty-four hours.'

'I've got to pack,' Paula decided.

'It will be cold,' Tweed warned. 'Cord said freezing.'

'I expected that. Damn! I've got that drinks session with
Black Jack Diamond this evening. I'll fit it all in. Tweed,
it's time you sat down,' Paula suggested. 'You've been
pacing ever since you saw off Mrs Brucan.'

'And the tickets for your trip are on the way,' Monica
informed him.

'And don't forget you've got this meeting with Dr
Abraham Scale this afternoon at three,' Paula reminded him as he settled behind his desk.

'I know. Now, what did you think of Elena, Bob?'

Tweed looked at Marler, still leaning against the wall, and
prepared himself for Newman's outburst. Marler winked.

'I thought she was a very nice lady,' Newman began,
'but she shook me with what she said. She left behind her
a strange atmosphere in here.'

'She sure did,' Marler agreed. 'Can still sense her pres
ence, as though she's still here.'

'I feel the same as Bob and Marler,' Paula said. 'Exactly
the same.'

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