The Main chance

9

Paula just had time to obtain photocopies of her sketch of Evelyn-Ashton, then distribute one to every member of the team. Tweed had explained to them tersely the significance of Evelyn-Ashton. 'Very much doubt that's his real name…' `Commander Roy Buchanan needs to see you very urgently,' Monica broke in after answering the phone. `On the phone, you mean?' `No, he's just arrived, waiting downstairs.' `Ask him to come up.'

Paula stood up from her corner desk. Marler, leaning against the wall near her, was by her side when she looked out of the window. An unmarked police car was parked below. Behind it stood a gleaming Rolls-Royce. `That Rolls belongs to Professor Saafeld, the eminent pathologist,' she whispered. 'I don't like this a bit.'

Commander Buchanan came into the office. Tall and lanky, in his late forties, he was an old friend of Tweed's. Paula had expected him to be wearing his uniform as Commander of the Anti-Terrorist Squad. Instead he wore a dark grey business suit. Normally his expression was amiable but now it had a grim set to it. He ignored an armchair, picked up a hard-backed chair, planted it in front of Tweed's desk, folded his arms. `I am the bearer of grim tidings,' he warned as he placed his briefcase by the chair. `Then tell me,' Tweed said calmly. `Mrs Bella Main has been murdered in her study at Hengistbury Manor. The method used is strange and quite horrific.'

A rare and heavy silence descended on the office. They were all staring at Tweed. He had been told about a number of hideous events and his expression had always been impassive. Not this time.

He sat very still, almost like a statue. Brief flashes of different emotions crossed his face. Something akin to grief. Fury. A distant gaze as though he was recalling his interview with Bella, a woman he had admired and liked. Admired for her character, for her brainpower. Eighty-four years old. He'd thought she might live to be a hundred. `She was so regal,' Paula said very quietly, 'so courteous: `Regal! That's the word for her,' Tweed agreed, suddenly alert again. 'Her murderer must be tracked down however long it takes, no matter what risks it may involve.' was just about to ask you,' Buchanan began, 'to take over as chief investigator of the case.' `I'll do it,' Tweed said quickly. `I have brought Professor Saafeld with me. He is waiting downstairs in the visitors' room.' `What the hell has he been parked in that cell for?' `His idea, not mine,' Buchanan said quickly. 'He thought I should tell you first. He knew Bella. He had a phone call from her about you after you'd left. She was very fond- I mean she had developed an admiration for you. Now,' he went on briskly, opening his briefcase, producing papers, 'in this case you have full powers, even an authorization of the fact signed by the Assistant Commissioner, together with a search warrant covering the whole of Hengistbury Manor and its three-hundred-acre estate called The Forest – or the large chunk of it belonging to the Manor.'

Tweed was examining the thick sheets of paper Buchanan had placed on his desk. The Assistant Commissioner's signature flourished at the bottom of both documents. `Also,' added Buchanan, 'you have the full backing of the Home Secretary.' `Who could be one of Bella's depositors,' Tweed said with a smile, his normal iron self-control now recovered. `I wouldn't know.' `With all this power I detect a political element.' `Well…' Buchanan hesitated. 'Certain Ministers are concerned that the Main Chance Bank could now be bought out by an immensely rich and ruthless gentleman – who might then use his ownership of this powerful organization to go on to bid successfully for one of our Big Four banks. Which would practically give him control of the country.' `He is British?' `No.' `He originates from the East?' `He does,' said Buchanan grimly. `And his name is?' `I'm not allowed to disclose that.' Buchanan's mood became more light-hearted. 'As assistant you will have Chief Inspector Hammer.' `Always save the best bit till last, don't you?'

Paula groaned, turned to Newman, who had been comforting her when the news about Bella had been first announced. 'Old Hammerhead,' she rasped well above a whisper. `I'm very short of senior detective officers,' Buchanan said, turning to shake a friendly finger at Paula. 'And he is very clear he is your assistant,' he went on, turning back to Tweed. `When does he go down to Hengistbury?' Tweed enquired. `He's gone down there ahead of you with three photographers, two fingerprint experts and the other technicians.' `Then we'd better get down there right away. Pete, you stay behind for the moment. My director, Howard, gets back from holiday tomorrow. Explain everything to him in detail and tell him I'll call him by phone soon as I can.' `Will do, sir,' Nield answered tersely. `You're in charge here for the moment,' Tweed added.

He walked to where Paula stood with two suitcases, took his own off her and hurried down to the visitors' room with Roy Buchanan and the rest of his team following. Opening the door he found Professor Saafeld comfortably ensconced in a chair, his legs perched on another, reading a book. `I really think this is dreadful,' Tweed began, 'leaving you in a place like this while Commander Buchanan filled me in on-' `I've been enjoying Robert Newman's huge bestseller, Kruger: The Computer That Failed.' He stood up. `Isn't that Mr Newman just behind you? Well, Mr Newman, you must be at the least a millionaire from the proceeds. Deserve to be. This is my third reading of your masterpiece. A millionaire at least.' `I have got a bit stashed away,' Newman said, smiling as they shook hands. `You two can talk later,' Tweed said firmly. 'Don't imagine you know the complex route to Hengistbury?' he said to the Professor. 'Thought not. So I'll lead the way with Paula in her red Porsche. You follow in your Rolls. Bob, you'll keep behind the Rolls, bringing the team in your Merc. Now we move.

As they turned out of Park Crescent with the Rolls behind them Tweed issued his warning. `Paula, Saafeld drives his Rolls at a stately speed, as he should. So time your speed to his.' `I had already thought of that,' she chastised him. 'If you like you can take over driving this dynamo. Now I'm wondering what horror we'll see at Hengistbury.'