The Greek Key

'No. Just keep her out of harm's way,' Tweed replied. 'I'll give you a call when I'm sure the coast is clear. And we'll pay the expenses.'

'Oh, there will be a bill.' Beck smiled and sat down as Tweed gestured towards a chair. 'I have news. Is it for your ears only?'

'Everyone here knows what's going on.'

Tweed waved a hand, embracing Newman, Paula and Marler. When they arrived Christina had said she'd be taking a bath. She had been quite happy that Gustav, her guard, should stay in her room and drink coffee.

'I realized Anton Gavalas was important to you,' Beck began. He had chosen a chair next to Paula. 'I checked with Interpol in Paris, asked them whether anything unusual had happened in Lisbon. It has.' His voice became grave. 'And about just the time Anton was in the Portuguese capital. A murder.'

'God! Who was it this time?' Tweed asked.

'An unsavoury international arms dealer who went by the name of Gallagher. He ran a garage, apparently – as a cover for his real activities. He had been watched as he travelled all over Europe. No evidence. He was found stabbed in a service pit in his garage. Could there be a link with Anton?'

'Any idea what kind of knife was used?'

'Yes. It was left in the body. People don't realize it can be very difficult to withdraw the weapon if it is driven in deep. This one was. A British commando-type knife.'

'That sounds like Anton.'

'There is more. Some guesswork…' Beck waved a dismissive hand. 'But the dates are right. Anton stayed one night at The Ritz. The following day a Portuguese freighter carrying a consignment of cork for England sailed. The Oporto. After a few days it arrives at some port called Watchet in Somerset, unloads the cork, takes on board a cargo of wastepaper. Is this relevant?'

'More so than you might ever dream,' Tweed urged him on grimly.

'The Oporto had been shadowed by French aircraft.

French Intelligence, the Direction de la Surveillance du Territoire, had discovered the Oporto had visited Tripoli in Libya before arriving in Lisbon. Their aircraft lost it because of a storm and only picked it up again after it had left Britain and was sailing apparently back to Lisbon. Another storm drove it close to Brest. They sent out cutters and boarded it in French territorial waters. Anyone losing interest?'

'I'm fascinated,' said Paula. 'You're leading up to something.'

'I enjoy a little drama – as Tweed here sometimes does. They found in the hold an armoury of Sam missile launchers, missiles, hundreds of rifles and forty thousand rounds of ammunition. At the time there was an Irish fishing boat near Brest. Fodder for the IRA. Paris is certain of it.'

'I don't like the sound of this,' Tweed commented.

Then you won't like the rest much. The DST interrogated Gomez, the Oporto 's captain. He wouldn't give any information. But a member of the crew he had rebuked did talk. He said before the ship reached Watchet it heaved to and someone carrying a large bundle was off-loaded into a waiting motorboat. The craft then headed for the British shore.'

'Did he recognize – I mean, see – anyone in the motor-boat he could describe?'

'No. He was concealed behind the bridge and frightened of being found. End of story.'

'Or the beginning,' said Tweed. 'Sam missile launchers. That frightens me. What was landed on that remote stretch of Somerset coastline? And why? For what purpose? Those are the questions we must find answers to. And the solution lies back home in England.'

45

London. As soon as Tweed arrived back at Park Crescent he worried away like a beaver at the problem. He assembled all his helpers in his room, issued a whole series of instructions.

Newman, Marler, Paula and Monica were there. Everyone had to know what the others were doing. The Director, Howard, back from a long holiday, lounged in a chair, listening. He made a typical comment as he brushed imaginary specks of dust off his immaculate navy blue suit.

This is costing us a fortune. Your trip to Athens alone…'

'Are you saying we are wasting our time?' Tweed enquired.

Paula sat behind her desk watching Tweed. He had lost his earlier manner of a man obsessed: seeing Petros had cured him of that. It was now the normal Tweed: calm, dogged, speaking in a controlled tone. Paula felt enormously relieved.

'No,' Howard replied. 'Not after hearing all the details. I don't like that business Kalos told you about General Lucharsky, Colonels Rykovsky and Volkov-above all the connection with Doganis. It does sound as though the hardline faction inside Russia – the anti-Gorbachev lot -has succeeded in establishing a power base outside Russia.'

'And that base is over here. All we have to do is to find it.'

'You make it sound so easy,' Howard observed.

'What gets me,' Paula persisted, 'is how they were able to do that under our noses.' She frowned. 'Unless it was set up a long time ago and has recently been activated.'

'Monica,' said Tweed, 'double-check with Roberts, our man at Lloyd's. I want all details of the movements of that Portuguese vessel, the Oporto. Paula, drive down to Exmoor with Newman. Find out on the 'spot whether Butler and Nield have discovered anything more about movements in that area. Especially about Anton – and Seton-Charles, who seems to have vanished off the face of the earth. Marler, Interpol have persuaded Lisbon to send me that knife used to kill Gallagher. It's arriving at London Airport aboard this flight.' He gave him a sheet of paper. 'In the custody of the pilot of the plane. Bring it back here. I want to check if it really is a commando-type weapon.'

'We stay at The Anchor at Porlock Weir?' Paula suggested as she took from a cupboard the small case she kept packed for emergency trips.

'It's out of the way, a good place to stay under cover. And you can check on Mrs Larcombe's murder. Bob, you get out of the car short of the hotel, register as though you don't know Paula. It can come in useful to have a secret reserve.'

'And I'll have my Mercedes back, thank you very much.'

'Goody,' said Paula. 'I'll get to drive it. At ninety down the motorway,' she joked.

Tweed gave her a look as she left with Newman. Marler raised himself slowly from his chair. 'I'd better push off to the airport before you think of something else…'

'Just like old times,' Monica said when Marler had gone. 'It's all go – the way I like it.' She reached for the phone to call Lloyd's. 'Do you really think Anton is back in this country?'

'He's somewhere over here. What I'd like to know is what he's doing,' Tweed answered sombrely.

****

It was raining heavily at Cherry Farm in Hampshire. Anton could hear it beating down on the roof of the huge barn where he was working. Perfect weather: it kept potential snoopers indoors. Inside the second furniture van, parked behind the other vehicle, he turned round as Seton-Charles appeared and climbed up the lowered tailboard.

'How are you progressing?' the Professor asked.

'I will show you. We are far advanced.'

Anton moved a tool box on the floor among the straw, used his screwdriver to lever up the hinged floorboards. Beneath was the secret compartment he had constructed to store the Stinger launchers and the missiles.

Seton-Charles gazed round the interior of the huge vehicle. At the front, behind the driver's cab – shut off from the interior – Anton had erected a wooden platform, railed, and with steps leading up to it. A special wooden chair he had designed with an adjustable back was clamped to the platform floor.

Anton inserted a missile into the launcher, carried the weapon up to the platform, and sat in the chair. Reaching down, he depressed a switch. There was the faint sound of electrical machinery on the move. A large panel in the van's roof slid open, exposing the roof of the barn six feet above the top of the van.