Rhinoceros (14 page)

'Oscar here,' a rough voice answered.

'You sound like a comedian,' Ponytail replied and con
nection had been verified.

'You have the business report?' Oscar enquired.

'With this takeover the minimum of pressure can be
used. End of report. . .'

In his room above a little-used warehouse at Reefers
Wharf Oscar Vernon sucked the end of his pen. The correct
interpretation of the word 'pressure' was 'violence.'

'This, I thinks,' he said to himself, 'is what Brits call the
escalation. London will have the rough night.'

CHAPTER 7

Tweed came back into his office after having a good wash.
He had just eaten the lunch Monica had brought in from the local deli. He looked annoyed.

'I wonder if we'll ever hear from that boy wonder, Mark Wendover. If he does turn up I'm going to give him a real grilling.'

'I've been surfing several American sites,' Monica
began. 'There was a weird one on gardening - the woman
commenting spent ages between naming each flower. Then
there was one on keeping fit. That was weird, too -
the instructor took so much time between giving fresh
instructions. I had the feeling it was coded.'

'Surfing the net.' Tweed snorted. 'Sounds like playing in the waves down in Devon. As for coding . . .'

'Monica,' Paula interjected, 'was once a code-breaker
in the Communications building further down the Cres
cent. Until you spotted her potential and moved her
here.'

'I would like what I wrote down about the gymnas
tics to be examined by our chief code-breaker,' Monica
persisted.

'I'll call and get Jacko over here,' Paula said, going to
the phone.

'Don't mind me,' grumbled Tweed. 'I only work here.'

'He's on his way,' Paula said.

Tweed took out his pad with loops round names, studied
it. A few minutes later someone tapped on the door. A slim
blonde girl of about thirty came in, wearing a fawn trouser
suit which went well with her hair.

'I'm Jenny,' she announced. 'Jacko moved to another
job in GCHQ about a month ago. I'm the chief code-
breaker.'

She took the sheet of paper Monica handed her. Newman
looked at her and she was aware of his interest.

'I've an idea this could be fairly simple,' she remarked.

'Doubt if it's a code at all,' Tweed commented.

Ten minutes later she handed a sheet from the pad to
Tweed. He pursed his lips as he read it.

With this takeover the minimum of pressure can be used.
End of report.

'It was every third word,' Jenny explained.

'Obviously some business corporation working a deal,'
Tweed said sceptically. Paula was peering over his shoulder.
'You see, it means nothing,' he said to her.

'I wonder. When they had those riots in Washington I saw them on TV. One thug yelled at the camera "It's a
takeover." He meant they were taking over Washington -
or trying to.'

'Did he?' Tweed looked thoughtful, then decided. 'I
think for this expedition with Lisa tonight we'll marshal our forces. Harry, phone Pete again. Tell him to get here
at once. Pity Marler is down in Dorset.'

'If you need me again,' said Jenny, standing up, 'just
call me.'

'We will. And thank you for what you've done.'

'It was a piece of cake . . .'

She had just left when the phone rang. Monica answered
and informed Tweed that Mark Wendover was waiting
downstairs.

'Send him up. I've a good mind to put him on the first
plane back to the States.'

Paula looked with interest at the tall well-built man
when he entered. She liked the way he was dressed informally, the way he smiled as he accepted Tweed's sugges
tion to sit down.

'I have to inform you,' Tweed began grimly, 'that here we work as a team. I haven't heard one damn' word from
you all day. Where have you been? Then I'll want to ask
you a lot of questions about your background.'

'I did try to phone Bob Newman before I left the Ritz.
But there was no reply.'

'I came straight here,' Newman told him.

'Well . . .' Mark looked back at Tweed. 'I drove to
Alfriston, got some information you might find interesting.
Can I tell you about my trip before you hang me from the
nearest tree?'

'Go ahead.'

Tweed's expression gradually changed to neutral as he
listened intently to Mark. The American explained in great
detail everything he'd experienced while in East Sussex. He had total recall for every conversation that had taken place. He concluded by producing the blue leather-bound notebook.

'You've done a very good job,' Tweed said as he
examined the book. 'I don't want to hear about your
background. You know what I think happened with this
notebook? Bogle was there before Paula and I arrived. He
denied touching the body but I think he lied. He found it
in one of the late Jeremy Mordaunt's pockets and kept it. MoA. Very interesting. Paula, could you get Jenny back here for me, please?'

'Something wrong?' Jenny asked when she arrived back in the office.

'Nothing. Since you left us this book has come into
my possession.' He handed it to her. 'Would you say
the entries are in code?'

'Could be,' she said, after glancing through the pages. 'I
would have to work on it before I'm sure. MoA.'

'Yes. Which means no one except yourself in Communi
cations should see it. Can you ensure that?'

'I can. I have my own little office to work in. It has three
locks on the door - two Banhams and one Chubb. And I do have a safe where I keep top secret material.'

'That's top secret.'

'I realize that. Who shall I report to if I solve it?'

'Myself or Paula. If neither of us is available, then
Monica.'

'I'll get cracking - literally - on it right away. Could I
have a thick envelope? Something I can carry the notebook
in so no one sees it when I get back to Communications.'

Monica found one for her. Jenny put the book inside,
sealed it. She gave Newman a brief wink. She had hardly glanced at Mark, but Paula felt sure she would recognize
him if she saw the American again.

'This make take longer than the other problem,' she
warned Tweed and left the room.

For several minutes Tweed explained to Mark the Lisa
situation. He emphasized that he was very unsure about
her, told him how he had met her.

'Lord Barford again,' Mark mused.

'Yes. And from what you've told me Bernard Bariord
is on the rocks financially. Something I didn't even
suspect
..."

The phone had rung. Monica called across to Tweed.
'Lisa is waiting downstairs now. Bang on time.'

'Ask her to come up.'

Lisa came into the room, wearing a grey raincoat. Monica had offered to take it but she shook her head, sitting down at Tweed's invitation. He started by introducing everyone
in the room except Paula by their first names only.

'Now, before we decide to go anywhere with you, I need
to know far more about you. Where do you live?'

'In a flat off Ebury Street. I'd sooner not give you the address. Two very tough-looking men stalked me but I gave them the slip,' Lisa explained.

'Who were they? Or who sent them, if someone did?'

'I've no idea. Absolutely no idea.'

'This is all very vague,' Tweed suggested. 'At Lord Barford's party you told me your job was that of a con
fidante. Can you elaborate?'

'I should have said I was a security consultant.' She was relaxing now, no longer sitting stiffly in her chair. 'I look
after one of the most powerful men in the world. He told
me to come and see you.'

'I'm surprised he knows I exist.'

'He has deep contacts all over the world. He knows who
you really are.'

'And who am I?' asked Tweed.

'Deputy Director of the SIS. That insurance stuff on
that plate by the front door is just cover. He knows very big trouble is planned for London. He sent me
over to find out first which areas they're targeting - so
I could tell you. They're the West End and the East End.
Tonight.'

'Who are the troublemakers?'

'Your stupid government lets in too many so-called
refugees. They don't realize that many have been trained
in guerrilla warfare abroad. I'm pretty sure that tonight
is a dress rehearsal for the main attack which will come
later. They'll be testing out the reactions of your police
force. I don't know when they'll strike, but I'm sure it
will be after dark.' She lifted a hand to brush back
her mane of red hair. 'How many men can you mus
ter?'

'Probably, including myself, say six. Except for one who
will arrive shortly, they are in this room. One of them,' he
went on, not looking at Newman, 'has SAS training. The
others are up to his standard. Paula is among the six. I
wouldn't make the mistake of understimating her.' Tweed raised an eyebrow, looking at Paula.

'We have met.' Lisa smiled. 'I think she could be
dangerous.'

'Would you like a cup of coffee?' asked Monica belat
edly. She had been fascinated by what-Lisa was saying.

'I'd love one, thank you very much.'

'This very powerful man you mentioned. I'd be happier
if I knew his name,' Tweed demanded.

'I have promised never to reveal that.'

'Couldn't be Rondel, could it?' he asked casually.

Lisa looked down at her lap.

'No, it couldn't be,' she said.

'You know . . .' Tweed began doodling faces on his pad.
'If I've no idea where I can contact you we simply can't work together.'

'He said you were not only very clever, but also very
tough and never gave up. I'm not living at the flat off
Ebury Street any more. I've moved to The Hangman's
Noose. It's a pub in the East End near Reefers Wharf.
You could always get me there or, if I'm out, speak to
Herb, the owner.'