Blood Storm

24

'Do sit down, Benton,' Tweed greeted his visitor. 'Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?'

'Coffee would be very acceptable, thank you,' Benton replied.

He had phoned Benton at his home in Hampstead, inviting him over. The Cabal member had accepted the invitation at once.

Only Paula and Monica were also present. Tweed had thought his visitor might talk more frankly if the other members of his team were absent. There was a pause and Tweed studied his guest.

Shorter than Nelson, Benton was in his early forties Tweed guessed, as he had when he had visited the Cabal at their HQ with Paula. Now he had a better chance of weighing up the man's appearance and personality. Round-headed, he had a bald patch on top of his head. His small eyes were greenish and shrewd under heavy lids. He wore a conservative grey suit which did not flaunt expense. His hands were folded in his lap. He gave Tweed the impression of someone with perfect self-control. Monica brought in coffee and Benton took it black, thanking her.

'I am sorry I was not available when you phoned, asking to come and see me,' Tweed said amiably. 'What is worrying you?'

'You are perceptive,' Benton observed in his quiet voice. 'May I ask, have you sent your report to the PM?'

'Not yet. It may come from my Director, Howard. He has just returned from a visit abroad.'

'I see.' Benton sipped at his coffee, then turned to look at Paula. 'I'm losing my manners. My apologies for not acknowledging your presence when I arrived.'

'That's all right,' Paula replied with a smile. 'Welcome.'

'I am worried,' Benton said, turning back to Tweed, 'at the near state of war which has broken out between our two departments. It's unseemly, dangerous.'

'Mainly operated by Horlick, your half-brother?' said Tweed, using shock tactics.

'Oh, so you know about Noel.' Benton chuckled, glanced over again at Paula. 'I'm impressed by your sources of information. I shouldn't be. Your reputation is well known. Noel is the youngest of us, sometimes a bit of a wild lad.'

'Wild enough to screw a cat's neck through a hundred and eighty degrees?' asked Paula quietly, following Tweed's lead with shock tactics.

'May I ask how you know about that?' Benton asked, his manner now disturbed.

'Someone took a photograph of the pillar at the entrance to your father's mansion,' Tweed fibbed. 'Someone else here in London told us about the mysterious incident,' he went on.

'Mysterious is the word,' Benton said quickly. 'We never did identify the culprit.'

'Here is a draft of my report for Mr Howard,' Tweed went on, producing a thick typed sheaf from a drawer. 'It is only a draft, subject to toning down,' he emphasized as he handed it to Benton.

His guest took out a pair of rimless spectacles, began to study the report. Paula noticed that the glasses transformed his whole appearance, gave him a sinister look.

'That's a copy, but I must keep it,' Tweed continued.

Benton read the report slowly. Then he stared at Tweed. 'I would certainly hope this is toned down.'

'We'll have to see.'

Paula noticed Benton, thrown off-stride, was slowly turning the thick sheaf into a roll. Absentmindedly he squeezed the roll with both hands. Paula felt a wave of shock pass over her. The motion of twisting the report reminded her of how someone would screw a cat's neck. As though the thought had been transmitted telepathically, Benton suddenly turned again to look straight at her. His gaze from behind the rimless glasses was disturbing. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde flashed into her mind.

'Oh dear, I'm sorry,' Benton said, turning back to Tweed. 'I was thinking and I've spoilt your copy.' He began unrolling the report, used thick fingers to smooth it out before passing it across the desk.

'Doesn't matter,' Tweed said. 'It's only a copy. So how do you propose to calm down the tense state of affairs growing worse almost by the hour?'

'How do you propose to do that?' Benton rapped back.

'Touche!' Tweed threw both hands into the air. 'We are going round in circles. You could talk to your colleagues.'

'Oh, I most certainly will.' He removed his glasses. 'May I assume you will do the same thing?'

'Depends on any further developments.'

'What does that mean?' enquired Benton, finishing his coffee. He turned in his chair to address Monica. 'That coffee was the best I've drunk for a while. My thanks.'

'It means that there must be no further attempts to attack my staff.'

He stopped speaking as an object hurled from the outside struck one of the metal blinds Paula had lowered. The object bounced off, fell into the street and exploded. Paula jumped up, peered out of the window just in time to see a man in a dark overcoat diving inside a Ford which took off immediately, racing into the main street, fortunately empty of traffic for a brief moment.

'Grenade.' Tweed stood up. 'That's what I'm talking about.'

'Lucky no one was on the pavement in the Crescent,' Paula snapped. 'They'd have been killed.'

'Surely,' Benton began, standing up, 'you don't think that had anything to do with us.'

'I think,' Tweed replied grimly, 'you had best go back to your HQ and have a long talk with your colleagues. By the way, did either Nelson or Noel know you were coming here?'

'No, they were both out…' Benton hesitated as though he'd made a mistake. The implication was that the grenade would not have been thrown if they had known Benton was going to be in the office. 'I did mention earlier that I was coming to see you,' Benton added quickly.

'When was "earlier"?' Tweed demanded, keeping up the pressure.

'I really think I'd better go now.' He paused. 'Truce?' He held out his hand to Tweed who appeared not to notice it as he slipped from behind his desk and opened the door for Benton to leave.