Cell by Colin Forbes

desk, gesturing for her to sit down. The stranger crossed

    6

    She was tall and slim, even seated in the armchair facing Newman, who leant forward in his own chair, their knees almost touching. Clad in a black trouser suit, her jacket was tight enough to reveal her good figure. Her mane of jet-black hair draped over her shoulders. Newman looked up, interrupting his animated conversation with the visitor. He was standing up and the striking girl joined him, inches taller than Paula.
    'George told me a lady had brushed past him and come up after leaving a box of Fortnum & Mason chocolates on his desk,' Tweed said gruffly.
    'This is Eva Brand,' Newman said hastily. 'The niece of Drew Franklin, the columnist.'
    'Mr Tweed,' Eva Brand explained, her voice soft but with an underlying stronger timbre, 'you were pointed out to me by Drew at a party. He said you were the only man who could save Britain one day in a time of great peril.'
    'Did he?' Like Paula, Tweed was stripping off his coat. 'Anything he says - or writes - usually has a snide touch. I expect he was mocking me.'
    'No, he was very serious.' Paula was watching her warily. Eva's large dark eyes seemed to look through her as she assessed her. Eva extended her hand and Paula shook it, noting the strength in her shapely fingers. Tweed also accepted her handshake, but briefly, then went to sit behind his desk, gesturing for her to sit down. The stranger crossed her long legs, clasped her hands in her lap as Paula went to her corner desk.
    'Mr Tweed, I'm sorry to gatecrash my way in but I've found that's the only way I can get quickly to a top person.'
    'So you don't hesitate to push your way in anywhere you want to go,' Tweed remarked gently.
    'No! Never! If it's important. And the reason I am here to see you is important.'
    You're pushy, Paula was thinking. I'll bet you went to one of the best-known boarding schools - Eva had a cultured voice. Probably ended up as Head Girl. Paula also realized that with her personality and looks, whenever Eva entered a roomful of people conversation would briefly stop. The men would ogle her, the women would spit inwardly.
    'Important to you or to me?' Tweed enquired, playing with his Carrier pen, another present from his staff.
    'Important to you . . .'
    'Does your uncle, Drew, know you've come here?' Tweed interjected.
    'Heavens, no!' Eva lifted her hands in horror at the idea. 'He'd have a fit. So I shan't tell him.'
    'Before you tell me what you think is so important I'd like to know a little more about you. Background, career, if any.'
    She sat up very straight. Newman couldn't take his eyes off her. From behind her word processor on her desk Monica glanced across at Paula, raised her eyes to heaven.
    'I was educated at Roedean, then Oxford. I know some thing about code-breaking — had a boyfriend who was in that area. I spent some time at Medfords Security Agency. That was a tough job - they asked me to get to know certain men, take them to bars and get them drunk so they'd talk. The trick was to get them chattering, providing secret information, then escape before the invitation to their flat.
    I once used my knee to get away from a persistent character. Do you get the gist?'
    'I think I do.' Tweed was smiling. 'A tough job, as you said.' He was careful not to look at Paula, who was gazing in astonishment. 'So why have you barged in here?'
    'Barged in!' Eva laughed. 'I like that.' She assumed her serious expression. 'Every now and again I drive up to Carpford, an odd village way up in the North Downs. I clear up the mess Drew likes living in. Dusting and so on. I make occasional visits when I know my uncle is in London. Would you believe it - Drew never notices. Well, a week ago I was in his place alone at night and I heard a motor-cycle coming. It stopped outside. I had my pistol, loaded, in my hand in no time. A Browning . . .'
    'A Browning?' Tweed enquired, concealing his surprise.
    'Yes, a .32. Surely you of all people must know