Authors: Colin Forbes
'Veto?' Tweed queried.
'Yes,' Nelson said in his loud voice, 'a veto. You don't
like some aspect of the new system, then we eliminate it—'
'I hadn't finished,' Benton interrupted, smiling at Paula
now. 'And you will have an important role to play, as Noel told you. We all admire your decisive mind, your courage.
You may well be second-in-command to Tweed, as you are
now.'
His whole manner was persuasive, the ever present smile
warm. Paula showed no reaction, staring at his greenish
eyes below his fair hair. He was very convincing. She looked
at Tweed, who started speaking.
'Details. How would this so-called State Security
operate?'
There was a tap on the door connecting with the next
room. Nelson called out, 'Come.' The Parrot entered,
stared at Benton. 'A call for you on the phone next door, Mr
Macomber.'
'I'd better take it, I suppose, please excuse me. I'll make sure whatever this is it doesn't take long.'
'Details,' Tweed repeated. Visitors come first.
Nelson began to outline how he saw the merger of the
security services would work.
18
'First,' Nelson explained, 'I'm sure you'll agree Britain is now full of frightened citizens. In the suburbs people install glare-lights which illuminate anyone approaching their houses. They sleep with all the doors and windows secured with a variety of locks. Women don't dare walk the streets alone after dark. We live today in an atmosphere of terror. Right?'
'Go on.'
'You agree with what I just said.'
'Yes.'
'So why is this?' Nelson threw his hands wide. 'Because
we have let in through Dover alien forces from the
Continent, from Africa, from the East. The government
fiddles the figures to conceal the truth. We are being
inundated with a tidal wave of criminals from all over the
world. Hence the atmosphere of terror.' He raised his voice.
'We propose to deport this trash - dangerous trash - back to where it came from. No argument. No stupid tribunals
to hear their efforts to stay here. We call on these people in
the dead of night, knock on their doors, grab them, take
them to the nearest deportation station . . .'
Benton returned in time to hear some of this. He walked to his chair, sat down.
'Veto,' snapped Tweed.
'Why, for God's sake?' thundered Nelson.
'Because it sounds too much like the KGB. Knocking on
doors at the dead of night, hauling people out, taking them
away. President Putin of Russia, an ex-KGB officer, is
moving in the same direction. Veto!'
Benton interceded. 'Now, Nelson, I suspect you have, as
you do, dramatized what we really propose,' he said in his
calm voice.
'We shall convert Britain into a country for the British,'
Nelson rolled on, in full blood. 'Social saboteurs will be
rounded up . . .'
'What is a social saboteur?' Tweed demanded.
'Anyone who disagrees with the government,' Nelson told him. 'Don't you agree that the whole moral structure
of society has broken down? That our young people are confused, have no rules to guide their behaviour?'
'Something in that, yes,' Tweed agreed.
'You see,' Benton broke in, 'Tweed is a realist. A
very worried realist, Nelson, if I have understood him.
You have so exaggerated what we must do, he has
compared us to the KGB. We are not monsters, Mr
Tweed. Nelson does go over the top at times. We are
democrats. Perhaps, Mr Tweed, you would look at that
peculiar three-sided table over there where we hold our
consultations.'
'So who is the boss?' Tweed enquired. 'Who is in charge
here?'
Tweed gazed straight at Benton's small greenish eyes. His face was flushed red, as though he had high blood
pressure. The strain of coping with his brother, Nelson?
Tweed thought.
'There is no boss,' Benton told him. 'I said we are
democrats. We sit at that neutral table and work together. The table is symbolic of our relationship.'
'That should convince you,' Noel said, speaking for the
first time. He was lightly spoken and was smiling. Paula
thought she rather liked him. So controlled, so charming.
His V-shaped features suggested character.
'What about uniforms for this merged State Security?' Tweed asked suddenly.
There was a long silence. Nelson glanced at Benton as if
he wished him to answer the question. He did.
'Noel,' Benton explained, 'has designed a distinctive
uniform. We think that will give the population a feeling of
safety. To see them patrolling the streets day and night. A
symbol that protection is available, which is not the case
now.'
'I've seen some of them already. Before the bill has been
passed - even presented to Parliament. That's illegal.'
'Indeed it is,' agreed Benton. 'Their commander must
have jumped the gun. Where did you see them, Mr
Tweed?'
'Outside my London house - in the middle of the night.'
'Then someone has tripped up,' Noel spoke again. 'We
shall have to investigate that, make sure it doesn't happen
again. I am surprised.'
'Building up a completely new organization,' Nelson said
in a quieter voice, 'you always get
glitches.'
'Big glitch,' Tweed told him. 'Veto.'
Benton finished his coffee. Neither Tweed nor Paula had
touched theirs. Tweed stood up and Paula, with relief,
followed suit. At his most amiable, Tweed explained they
had to leave, thanked them for their explanations, said he
would have to think over their conversation before he
reacted in his report to the PM.
'The PM?'
Nelson had jumped up, his expression a mix of
frustration and anger. He walked over to Tweed, grasped him by the arm.
'I do not see any reason to send a report to Downing
Street. This meeting was confidential, off the record
completely.'
'You didn't say that at the beginning, did you?' Tweed
replied with a smile.
'Of course,' Benton said quietly, 'Mr Tweed must react
however he thinks best. . .'
'We would appreciate seeing a copy before you submit it
to the PM,' Nelson said brusquely.
'You will have a copy in due course,' Tweed told him.
'We are all forgetting our manners,' Noel said. He turned
to Paula. 'Your reaction is equally important. So what do
you think of our proposals?'
'Like Tweed, I need time to think it over.' She smiled
because he was smiling at her. 'There was so much to take
in.'
'Yes, there was.' He walked with them towards the exit.
'Nelson is the oldest brother and rather runs away with
himself at times. I'll escort you out. That wretched escalator
has to be got moving, then there's the electronically
operated door. I think they went mad when they designed
security for this place. On behalf of my brothers I'd like to
thank you both for sparing so much time to see us. May I
keep in touch with you?'
'Of course,' she replied.
'I thought I saw Marler a moment ago,' Paula said as they
walked down the narrow street. 'Strolling along on the
opposite side of Whitehall.'
'You must have been mistaken. What would he be doing
here?'
They walked in silence until they reached the car. Once
inside Tweed started the engine. He backed cautiously
from the parking space into heavy traffic. It never seemed to
stop. They were well on their way back to Park Crescent before Tweed asked the question.
'What did you think of the play they performed for us?'
'Play?'
'You don't really think we've seen the real Cabal, do you?
Before we arrived they'd decided who would play which
part. How did you weigh up the three of them?'
'Well, the most polite and, apparently, the most civilized
was Noel.'
'You were rather taken by him?' Tweed said with a grin.
'Of course not,' she snapped.
'What about the others? Who is the boss? Because there
is one.'
'I've no idea. At first I thought it was Nelson, he was so
dominating. Then I wondered about Benton. He really is
an enigma, the peacemaker. The way he intercepted Nelson
as soon as he thought he was going over the top. He was
very pacific.'
'And Noel?' Tweed asked. 'He may be the youngest but
I had the impression he's very clever. And he was the one
who talked about reining in the State Security men in
uniform. Could be any of the three.'
The traffic was either crawling like a snail or stationary. When he couldn't do anything about a problem Tweed was
eternally patient.
'Anything else occur to you,' he asked, 'while you sat and
watched them?'
'I was trying to imagine which pair of hands had strangled
the cat so horribly all those years ago. Came to no
conclusion at all. One of them had a viciously cruel streak in those days.'
'Probably still has. Which could link up with the horrific
murder of Viola. That's only a theory,' he warned.
Eventually arriving back at Park Crescent they were met
in the office by Marler. He handed Tweed an envelope.
'More snaps for your photo album. I waited near the exit of Special Branch HQ. Saw you both
leave, then three men
came out one by one, with intervals between them. I took their pics.'
'That's Nelson,' Tweed said, showing Paula who had
darted over from her desk. 'Then this is Benton. Finally, we have Noel. You followed them, of course?' he said, looking
at Marler.
'Of course. They left at intervals, and one by one they
met inside a restaurant beyond Trafalgar Square. Cunning
lot. They didn't want to be seen going to lunch together.'
'So how on earth,' queried Paula, 'did you get back here
ahead of us - and in time to get these printed downstairs?'
'Motorbike. I passed your stopped car, nipping in and
out of traffic. Knew you wouldn't spot me. Not with my
helmet and visor. Any good? The pics.'
'First rate,' said Paula, picking them up again. 'You have
their features so clearly.' She handed them to Pete and
Harry. She told them who was who. 'In case you ever
encounter one of them.'