went on. `Andover himself. He urged us to visit his neighbours, which would keep us in the area long enough to set something murderous up.'
`You can't possibly suspect him,' she protested again.
`I keep an open mind at the moment. Andover was appalled when he knew we'd been inside his house. He really went berserk. Especially when I suggested calling in the police. It's just possible he felt we had to be stopped at all costs.'
`If you say so. Have you looked at Andover's file?'
`I read through it quickly in bed last night.' Tweed paused. 'I don't know whether it tells me much. It's quite thin. A curious document. I think I'm too short of data to appreciate its significance, if any.'
`I was thinking about Brigadier Burgoyne and Willie Fanshawe,' Paula said with a frown. 'Such different personalities. The Brig. — as Willie kept referring to him — is my idea of a brilliant commander. Decisive, I'd say, sharp as a tack. But something almost sinister in that saturnine smile of his. Willie is such a contrast. Very like a generous uncle I once had and liked. Bumbling — I imagine Helen Claybourne has to look after running the whole place efficiently — and good-humoured.'
`A fair description of both men,' Tweed said, cleaning his glasses on his handkerchief as he watched her.
`And a big contrast in wealth, I'd guess,' she went on. `The Brig. struck me as rolling in it — whereas Willie has to count the pennies.'
`Anything else?' Tweed coaxed.
`Yes. Burgoyne is living in the past. Look at how he's furnished Leopard's Leap — a funny name — with mementoes from his years in the Far East. But Willie hasn't a thing from his past, as though he's put it all behind him.'
`All contrasts so far,' Tweed observed.
`Oh, they do have one thing in common. I got it wrong when I said Willie has left it all behind him. Didn't you notice how both men seemed frozen in a time-warp? I mean the language they used. Burgoyne referred to Irene's French boy friend as a bounder. No one uses that term any more. Except maybe the British expats still living in Hong Kong. The same thing with Willie. He used the phrase stout fellow, talking about Burgoyne. So archaic. They're both mentally tied to China, to their old life in the Far East.'
`If you say so,' Tweed remarked absent-mindedly.
Paula jumped up, annoyed. Without realizing it Tweed had repeated a phrase she'd used earlier. Edgy from her experiences the previous day, she thought he was mimicking her.
`All right,' she snapped, 'I talk too much. But remembering we were nearly murdered last night, don't forget the bricks and the small concrete mixer on Burgoyne's verge. He's in touch with a builder — and that could be where that orange monster came from. I need some fresh air. I'm going for a walk..
She closed the door quietly as she left, fuming. Tweed perched his glasses back on his nose.
`Actually Paula said something very significant. And it could just link up with Andover's report in the file he gave me.'
`And you're not going to tell me what it was?' Newman hazarded.
`Too early. I need to be sure. As I said earlier, I need more data.'
`I remember.' Newman stirred restlessly. `So when do we start getting that data?'
`Oh, I've already started. I was up earlier than either of you this morning. I collected a load of change from the office here, then drove into Lymington to locate a public phone box.'
`Go on.'
`I called Colonel Stanstead, the Chief Constable. Poor Boyd's remains are now in an ambulance on the way to London. I called Sir Rufus Rabin, the eminent pathologist we sometimes use. Rabin will examine the body and report to me. I called Monica at Park Crescent,' he went on, referring to the HO of the SIS. 'Harry Butler and Pete Nield are already on their way down to take turns in watching Andover's house, Prevent . And you can help, if you will. Go and see that Acting Harbour Master, Watford. Play up to his sense of self-importance. Find out if either — or both —
`You can't possibly suspect him,' she protested again.
`I keep an open mind at the moment. Andover was appalled when he knew we'd been inside his house. He really went berserk. Especially when I suggested calling in the police. It's just possible he felt we had to be stopped at all costs.'
`If you say so. Have you looked at Andover's file?'
`I read through it quickly in bed last night.' Tweed paused. 'I don't know whether it tells me much. It's quite thin. A curious document. I think I'm too short of data to appreciate its significance, if any.'
`I was thinking about Brigadier Burgoyne and Willie Fanshawe,' Paula said with a frown. 'Such different personalities. The Brig. — as Willie kept referring to him — is my idea of a brilliant commander. Decisive, I'd say, sharp as a tack. But something almost sinister in that saturnine smile of his. Willie is such a contrast. Very like a generous uncle I once had and liked. Bumbling — I imagine Helen Claybourne has to look after running the whole place efficiently — and good-humoured.'
`A fair description of both men,' Tweed said, cleaning his glasses on his handkerchief as he watched her.
`And a big contrast in wealth, I'd guess,' she went on. `The Brig. struck me as rolling in it — whereas Willie has to count the pennies.'
`Anything else?' Tweed coaxed.
`Yes. Burgoyne is living in the past. Look at how he's furnished Leopard's Leap — a funny name — with mementoes from his years in the Far East. But Willie hasn't a thing from his past, as though he's put it all behind him.'
`All contrasts so far,' Tweed observed.
`Oh, they do have one thing in common. I got it wrong when I said Willie has left it all behind him. Didn't you notice how both men seemed frozen in a time-warp? I mean the language they used. Burgoyne referred to Irene's French boy friend as a bounder. No one uses that term any more. Except maybe the British expats still living in Hong Kong. The same thing with Willie. He used the phrase stout fellow, talking about Burgoyne. So archaic. They're both mentally tied to China, to their old life in the Far East.'
`If you say so,' Tweed remarked absent-mindedly.
Paula jumped up, annoyed. Without realizing it Tweed had repeated a phrase she'd used earlier. Edgy from her experiences the previous day, she thought he was mimicking her.
`All right,' she snapped, 'I talk too much. But remembering we were nearly murdered last night, don't forget the bricks and the small concrete mixer on Burgoyne's verge. He's in touch with a builder — and that could be where that orange monster came from. I need some fresh air. I'm going for a walk..
She closed the door quietly as she left, fuming. Tweed perched his glasses back on his nose.
`Actually Paula said something very significant. And it could just link up with Andover's report in the file he gave me.'
`And you're not going to tell me what it was?' Newman hazarded.
`Too early. I need to be sure. As I said earlier, I need more data.'
`I remember.' Newman stirred restlessly. `So when do we start getting that data?'
`Oh, I've already started. I was up earlier than either of you this morning. I collected a load of change from the office here, then drove into Lymington to locate a public phone box.'
`Go on.'
`I called Colonel Stanstead, the Chief Constable. Poor Boyd's remains are now in an ambulance on the way to London. I called Sir Rufus Rabin, the eminent pathologist we sometimes use. Rabin will examine the body and report to me. I called Monica at Park Crescent,' he went on, referring to the HO of the SIS. 'Harry Butler and Pete Nield are already on their way down to take turns in watching Andover's house, Prevent . And you can help, if you will. Go and see that Acting Harbour Master, Watford. Play up to his sense of self-importance. Find out if either — or both —
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