Cell Read Online Free PDF Page B

down in the val ley. There's a good hotel there, the Peacock. You can have a full meal and we'll still be back for Newman in good time.'
    'I do not like Margesson,' Paula said vehemently. 'He's like some kind of priest, a mad one. I'm going to call him the Priest in future. Most poisonous.'
    'Dangerous might be nearer the mark,' Tweed commented.

    They had dropped to a much lower level after Buchanan had swung along a narrow lane to his left. As they entered Foxfold Paula realized it was a normal village, nestling in a deep gulch. There were street lights, and old brick-built houses and cottages stood well back from the road. High up on the gulch, overlooking the village, was a large house with a blaze of lights. Buchanan turned off the lane and climbed a steep drive leading to the perched house.
    'That's the Peacock,' Buchanan said as he pulled up in front of a large window with leaded lights.
    'Well,' Paula began, her mind darting about, 'at least we know that mysterious man with the black overcoat exists. Mrs Gobble has seen him prowling about in the night.'
    'One thing I meant to ask you, Roy,' Tweed said as Buchanan switched off the engine, 'is do you know how it was possible for Victor Warner to buy land and build that monstrosity? Everyone else has to pay rent to that dubious London lawyer.'
    'He was smart. He had a surveyor check the area, found that the developer, the New Age outfit, had overlooked it. Jumped in and bought it, then had his house built by workers imported from Milan in Italy. He's very rich. You know why?'
    'No idea.'
    'He keeps this quiet. His father owned a company which manufactured - of all things - a laxative. Victor inherited a huge fortune when his father departed this world. He likes to keep the source of his wealth quiet.'
    'No wonder!' Paula chuckled. 'A laxative!'
    They were about to enter the hotel when a Maserati sped up the drive, parked behind Buchanan. The driver jumped out of the car. Tall and slim, agile, he wore a long dark overcoat. Paula whispered to Tweed.
    'It's him. The man you saw at the edge of the wood watching us in Carpford.'
    'I don't believe it,' Tweed replied with astonishment. 'Of all people. This is my old friend from Belgium, ex-chief of their anti-terrorist squad. Jules Beaurain.'

    As Tweed made introductions, Paula was struck by Beaurain's powerful personality, by his good looks, by his courtesy and command of English. He kissed her hand briefly and gave her a wonderful smile.
    Six feet tall, in his late thirties or early forties, his hair was black, neatly brushed, his blue eyes piercing without any hint of anything but friendship. His face was long and beneath his strong nose were firm lips and a fine jaw. All his movements were swift.
    'The brilliant Paula Grey,' he said, still smiling. 'When Tweed visited Brussels he praised your talents to the sky. So it gives me great pleasure to meet you. I had not expected someone quite so attractive. Don't know how you get any work done with this lady in your office.'
    'That's right, pile it on,' Tweed replied with a mock grumble. 'We are just going in for dinner. Paula is starved. Can you join us?'
    'I also have not eaten for years, so it seems. Certainly I should be honoured. And I trust the famous Superintendent Buchanan will be another guest.'
    'How do you know he's a Superintendent?' Tweed enquired. 'I remember he was a Chief Inspector when we last met in Brussels.'
    'I make it my business to know what is happening in so many different parts of the world. Does your friend realize my career, now ended, tallies not so far from his?'
    'I do,' Buchanan said emphatically. 'Notorious would describe how we regard him at the Yard. But after com manding the anti-terrorist squad you returned to the police in the role of Commissioner.'
    'This is fascinating,' Paula interjected, 'but I'm still in great need of food.'
    'My apologies.' Beaurain took her by the arm and led the way into the hotel and the restaurant. 'Let me choose