Vorpal Blade (9 page)

Paula hesitated for a second. She was wearing a black
knee-length dress and her shoulders were bare. Unfortu
nately Marienetta was clad in a jet-black dress with full sleeves and a high collar. She decided she couldn't refuse
but she had noticed Black Jack had consumed a great
quantity of wine. As they stepped onto the dance floor
he took hold of her, one hand on her bare shoulder, the
other wrapped round her waist. He pulled her close to
his body.

As they moved round the dance floor she studied him.
He had the figure of a male model, but his craggy face
did not fit in with that impression. He had thick fair hair,
long at the back, a well-shaped forehead, a prominent nose
below oddly large eyes which seemed depthless. His lips
were thick and she thought they could be cruel. His hand
caressed her bare shoulder with growing enthusiasm. She
smiled.

'I hope you don't mind but I have sensitive skin and
your hand is gripping it tightly.'

He relaxed the hand immediately, moved his face close
to hers. 'Later on I'll remember that, be gentle as a lamb.'

'Later on?'

'Thish place ish becoming a bore,' he replied, slurring
his words slightly. 'There's a rear exit over there. Come
and have a memorable evening with me at my little flat in
Eaton Square.'

'I don't think so. I like it here.'

'Tell you a shecret. I've been offered ten thousand poundsh to knock out a man called Tweed. He'sh your
boss. Right? You're some kind of a secretary to him.'

'You could say that. What's this joke about knocking
out Tweed?'

'He'sh getting in the way of some important people. He
won't be able to walk for three months when I've had a few
wordsh with him. Be a pal, point him out to me when we
go back into the beanfeasht.'

Paula had drunk only one glass of wine and she was
shaking inside. Her alert brain spun round. How to handle this crazy situation? Did he mean it? She saw the odd eyes
gazing into hers, assessing her reaction.

'I'll do what I can,' she said.

Shortly afterwards they returned to the restaurant. She
glanced back and saw a young blonde, clad more as though
she was going to bed than attending a dinner, had trapped
Black Jack in a conversation. Paula hurried back to her
table. No one except Newman
saw her skilfully scoop
up his name card, concealing it in her hand. He leaned
towards her.

'Something up?' he asked quietly.

Amid the clinking of glasses and the loud babble of
voices as inhibitions melted no one could hear them. She
bent close to his ear.

'Black Jack told me he'd been paid ten thousand to
rough Tweed up savagely. I don't think he recognizes
Tweed. I'm going to point you out.'

'Do that. I'll handle the situation.'

Tweed, she had seen earlier, was seated at the top table
next to Arbogast. He was drinking coffee when she stooped
close to him, whispering.

'When you leave here it's vital you have Newman by
your side. A matter of safety.'

Arbogast, who had been talking to a beautiful woman
on his left, turned in his seat. He reached across Tweed,
holding out his paw to Paula, who took it. He squeezed her warmly, smiling as he spoke to her. 'If you ever get tired of
spending time with this modern Einstein, give me a call,
then come over so we can chat. I meet so few attractive ladies who have a powerful intellect.'

'I might take you up on that.' She smiled again and left,
then slipped back.

The Vice-President had leaned over the table. His cold
eyes were fixed on Tweed as he spoke. Everyone else listened to what the great man was going to say.

'You are Tweed, I understand,' Straub rumbled. 'So
what is your role in life?'

'If you know my name . . .' Tweed paused, leaning forward. His voice was harsh. '. . . then obviously you
know my role in life. So what is the point in asking the
question?'

His voice was loud, almost ferocious. Paula was startled
- she had rarely heard him speak in this aggressive man
ner. For a fleeting second she saw a vicious expression
flash across the Vice-President's face, then the politician
took over.

'Ladies and gentlemen, we have a lion present, one with
teeth. Well, I've met such people all my life and I've yet
to encounter one who disturbs me.' He raised his glass. 'I
wish to propose another toast to the beautiful Sophie on
her thirtieth birthday. Bless you, my dear . . .'

Paula returned to her table, this time occupying the
empty seat Marienetta had earlier offered her. Roman's
niece had a soft voice so she could chat to Paula without anyone hearing what she was saying.

'Your boss scored a bull's-eye there. I've seen Straub a
lot on television and normally nothing throws him.'

'He asked for it.'

'He certainly did. Oh my, Sophie is going to get up and
make a speech. And she's been
drinking heavily. Keep
your fingers crossed. She came back from the States a
few days ago and I think she's still jet-lagged - on top
of the drink.'

'Do you also visit America?'

'Only now and again. Sophie flies over far more. We've got a company over there. Here we go . . .'

Sophie was standing up close to a large tree creeper
planted in a huge green tub. She waved her half-f glass
back and forth, as though anointing her audience. A hush
fell on the room. Sophie began speaking.

'I want to thank you all
...
I want to thank you. I want
to thank you . . .'

'Needle's got stuck,' Marienetta whispered.

'To thank you for the most wonderful birthday party
I'm ever going to ecksp . . . ecks . . .'

'Experience,' whispered Tweed, leaning across the table.

'. . . ever going to experience.' She raised her glass.
'Three cheers for Tweed. And above all I'm so honoured to
have the Vice-President, the next President of the United
States of America, as the most honoured guest I could
hope for. I'll be opening my presents later but thank you
all for being so generous. Bless you all.'

As she sagged back in her chair thunderous applause
broke out, continued for two minutes. Marienetta leaned
close to Paula, so close she could just smell very expensive
perfume.

'Tweed saved her, got her going again. It should have
been Straub who came to her aid. He's smirking now, the
bastard.'

'Like me,' Paula commented, 'you have very acute
hearing. I just caught what Tweed said to her.'

'An ear specialist once told me I would hear a ping-pong
ball dropped into the sea. It's a family trait. Mind if I
smoke? Would you like one?'

'Yes, please. One of my rare pleasures.' When Marienetta
had lit her cigarette with a jewelled lighter Paula asked her question. 'I hope you don't mind my mentioning it tonight,
but have you any idea what Holgate could have been doing
out at a remote spot like Bray after dark?'

'No. Uncle has pondered that and not come up with even a theory. Adam wasn't popular with the staff but I found him charming.'

'Someone told me you have a large old house near the
river where it happened.'

'Abbey Grange. Roman hardly ever uses it. He bought
it for private conferences, then decided he didn't like
the place. I've only been there once and I didn't like it
either.'

'You have someone to look after it?'

'Not now.' Marienetta shook her head. 'We've had a
series of housekeepers and one by one they've left. At the
moment there isn't one. The house is empty.'

Then who was in that room with the light on at the side of
the house, Paula asked herself, on the night of the murder?

Straub, accompanied by his bodyguards, had left and the
party was breaking up. Earlier, Paula had loitered near
the doorway leading to the dance floor. When Black Jack
appeared she began walking, pointing to Newman's back.

Tweed, who had been talking to Arbogast, was among the last to leave. Newman walked by his side and Paula
watched as Black Jack put on his coat and followed them.
Outside the night was chilly, inclined to sprinkle with rain.
Newman stood by himself, but still not far from where
Tweed waited for a taxi to appear.

Paula stood outside the entrance as Black Jack lit a
cigarette. It was the ideal moment for the ex-gambler
to launch his attack. To her surprise he waited until she
walked out and approached her.

'Come and have a drink with me. We could go to
Marino's off Piccadilly.'

'Thank you, but I'm too tired to go anywhere except
home.'

'Another evening? Tomorrow? Day after? Come on.' He
took hold of her arm.

'Don't think the lady's interested,' Newman said, walk
ing close to them.

'Ah, the celebrated foreign correspondent,' he sneered.
'I really am pleased to meet you.'

Tweed moved close. 'She really has had a day of it. So
why not go home by yourself?'

'I thought Paula might like to hear something I happen
to know about Adam Holgate. Something no one else
knows. It hasn't appeared in this long article by Sam
Snyder in the
Daily Nation.
' He pulled a folded copy out of his trench-coat pocket, opened it up, showed the front
page to Tweed. The headline blazed in huge letters.

SECOND HEADLESS BODY FOUND
AT BRAY

US Vice-President Visits London

Black Jack's manner was cordial and he'd shown no sign
of attacking anyone. Tweed took the paper handed to him,
quickly read some of the long article below. He looked at
Black Jack.

'How did you get hold of this copy?'

'One of the guests at the back of the room wanted a
breath of fresh air. He told me he'd seen this pack of papers
strung up outside a closed newsagent's. It's tomorrow's paper - or
rather today's now. Well after midnight.'

'You said you knew something about Holgate.' Tweed
gazed at him. 'You were joking, of course.'