Colin Forbes - The Janus Man

`How did it break up then? You said they left separately.'

`Harry Masterson must have driven off about one, as far as I can remember. Shortly afterwards Lindemann went. I'd got up to go to the bathroom and I watched from the window. Just because I couldn't sleep. Dalby drove off at 1.30 a.m. I do know that because I looked at my watch. Then I flopped into bed and slept and slept.' She stared at the front door, made a warning gesture. 'Shush! They're coming back…'

Tweed was surprised. She had even more acute hearing than his own. Probably the familiar creak of a gate. The door opened, Diana came in, and immediately Tweed knew something was wrong. Her normally white face had a flush of anger. Grey was beaming, casual and assured as always. Tweed stood up.

`Hugh, could you stand another breath of fresh air? I've had no exercise since I got up.'

`Be my guest.' He grinned. 'Come to think of it, you are!' Charles sprawled on a rug, mouth open, panting. They left him behind as Grey led the way, opening the gate and turning left.

`Fancy a walk to the dyke? A look-see at the Wash?'

`Suits me. Hugh, there's something I wanted to talk to you about…'

`Guessed as much. You never leave business behind, do you? You ought to learn to relax, have some fun.' He looked sideways at Tweed. 'Or maybe at long last you are having fun – with Diana. Dishy. Just what the doctor ordered for you..

Did you,' Tweed persisted, 'or did you not have me followed while I was in Germany?'

`As a matter of fact, I did. Put two of my best men on the job. I thought you needed some protection. I didn't know you had Newman escorting you. They tracked you to Lubeck and Travemunde. After all,' he went on defensively, 'you were in my sector. I felt responsible. And you were near Dr Berlin. The BND people are worried about him.'

'Why?'

They continued walking along the smooth-surfaced tarred road elevated above the surrounding fields while Grey considered his reply. Arriving at a small track, they turned off the road to the left, heading towards the distant dyke.

`They have him under surveillance because he came from Leipzig. Nothing definite to go on. About half the time they lose him. He simply vanishes into thin air. My men were aboard that ferry you took to Priwall Island to attend his party. They got no further than the gate. No invitation cards.'

`You have been a busy little bee…'

`I repeat, you were in my sector. If it had been Howard I would have done the same thing. You're right on the edge of the border there, you know.'

`I know.'

Tweed said nothing more as they strolled on under the blazing sun. They came to the end of the track. To their right stood a lonely farmhouse, smaller than Grey's. No sign of life. Grey led the way up a rise and down the other side. The track narrowed to a small uneven path strewn with humps of grass.

The dyke loomed closer. They walked in single file, Grey in the lead, the path was so narrow, dropping into a ditch on either side. Grey suddenly broke into a run, leaping up the steep landward side of the dyke. Standing on the top his hair was blown by a breeze offshore. Tweed joined him at a more leisurely pace.

`Most people never see this.' Grey was at his most buoyant, waving both arms wide to embrace the view. 'The peace of it all is truly magnificent. World's end…'

Below them a steep path descended to an area of mud-flats and snaking creeks, winding in and out of the marshland. An ancient landing-stage had been reinforced with fresh timbers. Beyond, the vast expanse of the Wash stretched away to the horizon, a blue sea which went on and on until it reached the continent.

It was very calm, water without a ripple. The breeze no longer blew. Not a vessel in sight. The surface was smooth as a lake of oil. It looked as though you could safely walk across it. Grey took in a deep breath, spread his arms again.

The freshest air on the planet.'

`Hugh,' Tweed said quietly.

`Yes?'

`If I return to Hamburg you will under no circumstances put any of your streetwalkers on my track.'

Streetwalkers was Park Crescent jargon for shadows, trackers. Grey dropped his arms, stiffened with resentment. Then he lifted his hands in a theatrical gesture of resignation.

`If you say so.'

`I do. Now, we'd better get back.'

Grey ran down the side of the dyke. Tweed glanced back before he followed. Along the edges of the creeks were areas of murky soft mud mingling with sand. Sinister islets of green sedge peered above the mud. Quicksands.

All the way back to Hawkswood Farm neither man exchanged one word with the other. If anything Grey's face was even pinker than normal, flushed with annoyance at Tweed's rebuke.

Diana and Paula were engaged in the over-polite conversation adopted by two women who disliked each other. Tweed heard a snatch as they entered the farmhouse and Grey said he had to go to the bathroom and would be back in a minute.

`So you don't really like England as it is today?' Paula was saying. 'May I ask why?'

`I read an article once by Jimmy Goldsmith, I think it was, and he said it all. The trouble with Britain today is the breakdown of the caste system. No one knows where they are any more.'

`And that was how life was in Kenya?' Paula enquired sweetly. 'A nice cosy caste system? The natives knew their place?'

`They did before 1963. Then came independence and the rot set in…'

`How perfectly rotten,' Paula commented, sipping more coffee.

`Indeed, yes.' Diana gave her warmest smile. 'Massacre everywhere. Mugabe in Rhodesia, Idi Amin in Uganda. You name it.' She looked up. 'Enjoy your constitutional, Tweedy?'

`Is that what it was?' Tweed broke the surface tension with a rueful smile, sagging into his arm chair. He raised his hands in mock horror, including Paula. 'Fresh air. Smells most odd. If you don't mind we'll have to push off soon.'

`Nothing doing!' Hugh returned from the bathroom full of joy and bounce. 'You're staying to lunch. Paula can rustle up a bit of a meal. Can't you, darling?'

`I love the way men talk of rustling up a meal,' Diana said archly. 'Just as though we snap our fingers. Hey presto! A meal appears as though by magic.'

`You're welcome to stay,' Paula responded without great enthusiasm. 'And since this is my shopping day and I haven't done any yet, Hugh can take us to The Duke's Head in King's Lynn. Can't you, dear?'

Tweed stood up, shook his head. 'Very kind. But we have an appointment in London. Thank you both. And the macaroons were a delight.'

`Wave you off then,' Grey suggested. 'Next time we'll lay on a feast.' Tweed noticed that as they were leaving he did not take Diana's arm, was careful not to touch her after she'd thanked Paula.

They settled themselves inside the car while Hugh and Paula stood apart at the gate. As Tweed began to drive away he saw in the rear view mirror Hugh still standing there, both hands clasped above his head in a boxer's salute. The soul of self-assurance to the end. Paula had gone back inside the farmhouse.

`Were you in the vicinity of Knightsbridge yesterday afternoon?' Tweed asked as he drove away from the Wash towards King's Lynn.

'Yes. I told you I was going to Harrods…'

'Any idea what time?'

'About four o'clock. Why?'

'Hugh and Paula saw you. That is, Hugh saw you and pointed you out to Paula.'

'But how on earth would he know who I was?'

'From a photo. Now, be a good girl, don't ask any more questions.'

She made a moue, asked if she could switch on the radio, did so when Tweed nodded. She lapsed into unaccustomed silence as Tweed thought. He guessed what had happened. The two men Grey had used to follow him – he'd noticed them on the Priwall ferry – had secretly taken photos. Including some of Diana. Normal procedure when a subject – himself this time – was under surveillance.