Blood Storm

34

While Tweed was on his way to Tolhaven, Newman was obeying his order to interview Noel Macomber. He phoned Noel first.

'Robert Newman, SIS, here. I think we should meet urgently.'

'Why?' the soft voice whispered.

'To discuss a peaceful solution.'

'I see,' after a long pause. He'd consulted his colleagues. 'Where? When?' he enquired.

'Now. I could arrive at your building at twelve. You know a discreet bar near you?'

'Yes. I'll leave our HQ at twelve.'

So it came about that Newman found himself seated with Noel in the leather-walled alcove of an exclusive bar in Victoria Street. They faced each other. Noel had occupied the seat inside the alcove, his back to the wall as he swirled his second glass of Scotch.

When he first saw him descend the steps of the HQ building Newman was startled. Noel wore a smart white suit, a pink shirt, a colourful cravat and two-toned shoes. Now, in the quiet bar each was waiting for the other to speak first.

Newman had studied the face of his opponent. It was peculiar. Triangular in shape with the apex the pointed jaw. Yet there was a certain handsomeness many women would find attractive. The almost lidless eyes were yellow and rarely moved. Newman decided it was time to move in for the kill.

'Where were you on these nights?' he asked, pushing forward a sheet of paper with the two murder dates. 'Between the hours of 11 p.m. and 3 a.m.?'

'Funny way to start discussing a peaceful solution.'

'Tweed has a long list of suspects. We eliminate you and move on to the next name. Logical.'

'You really expect me to recall where I was on two out-of-the-blue dates?'

'Yes. Because in both cases – Viola and Marina – the crimes were splashed all over the following morning's papers.'

'Point,' Noel agreed. 'On each night I was drunk and went to my flat at ten o'clock to sleep it off.'

'Anyone to confirm that?'

'Not those nights.' Noel grinned wolfishly. 'I didn't have a girl with me in bed. Too drunk.'

'Did you know either woman?'

'I visited Marina about a month ago at midnight.' A second wolfish grin. 'She only worked in the early hours, if you catch my meaning.'

'And Viola?'

'Didn't know she existed until I read the paper about her unfortunate experience.'

'It was more than unfortunate for her.'

'I suppose it was.' Noel emptied his glass, called for a refill, raised his thin eyebrows at Newman, who shook his head. He was on his first Scotch still. 'Newman, can you keep a secret until late this afternoon?'

'I suppose so.'

'Nelson is being appointed to the Cabinet. As Minister for Internal Security. A new post.' Noel raised his thin brows which exposed all his yellowish eyes. Disconcerting. 'You won't, then, be rushing to phone your chum, Drew Franklin?'

'Hardly, since he isn't my chum. Regarding a peaceful solution. Wouldn't the first step be to dismantle the awful prison system being erected on Black Island?'

'Damn it!' Noel exploded, his face turning red. 'You're conspiring to wreck a system it has taken us months to plan.'

He jumped up to leave, but not before he had swallowed his third full glass of Scotch. 'Now Nelson will be in the Cabinet this afternoon I'll be able to have you as the first one thrown into the prison on Black Island. As a social saboteur.'

He dived out of the alcove, rushed for the door, very fleet of foot, Newman noticed. Then he rushed back, threw a twenty-pound note on the table, rushed again through the bar and in doing so nearly knocked over a waiter before disappearing full tilt into the street.

'He must be annoyed at something,' Newman said with a smile to the stunned waiter as he also walked slowly out of the bar.

It was a very thoughtful Newman who made his way back up Whitehall to where he had parked his car.