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to send one of their couriers over to Saafeld's mansion in Holland Park. Then she printed out the report for Tweed, talking as she worked.
    'Nobody can fault Tweed now. Saafeld said it was cold blooded murder. He doesn't normally use such strong language.'
    'Copies of the reports going to someone?'
    'Yes. Gavin Thunder for one. He'll throw a fit.'
    Harry stood up. 'I've been thinking about who ordered Tweed to be killed. Newman told me where Tweed had been. Have you a file on Lord Barford?'
    'Yes. In the safe. Combination is 87, 24, 95. Why?'
    'Just curious.'
    Harry walked over to the large safe recently installed in a corner of the room. His nimble fingers operated the combination, swung open the heavy door. A number of metal drawers were stacked with top secret files. He checked the A-to-Bs, found Barford's file, closed the safe and resumed his perch on the chair arm.
    'Lord Barford is one of the most distinguished men in Britain,' Monica protested.
    'So was Maxwell. For a time.'
    Monica was intrigued. She knew Butler never trusted or was impressed by anyone. Not until their integrity had been proved up to the hilt. He skimmed the file rapidly.
    'Monica, could you take down these extracts as I call them out? Right. Here goes.'

    Brigadier Bernard Barford. Served Gulf War as Officer in charge Communications. Awarded MC. Rumoured to later act as liaison with obtaining lucrative armament contacts with Middle Eastern and Asiatic countries. Indonesia was mentioned in the rumours, a state to which Britain has supplied large quantities of military hardware. Nothing was ever confirmed concerning these rumours. Before the Gulf War Barford was a colonel in the Signals Corps. He commutes from his manor to London City Airport by Sikorsky helicopter.

    'That's it,' said Butler. 'Just extracts I find interest ing. And why did the government create a Ministry of Armaments — taking it away from the Ministry of Defence?'
    'Politicians trying to be crafty. It deflects criticisms of the arms trade from the Foreign Office. And all of that stuff about Barford is rumour.'
    'Except the bit about his helicopter.'
    'Why is that significant?'
    'Because a chopper followed us all the way from the Downs.'
    'But,' Monica objected, 'Paula said this weird man, Rondel, also has a helipad and a chopper was sitting on it.'
    'I was in the following car. I got the impression the chopper lifted off from somewhere near the Barford estate.
    Can't be sure,' he emphasized. 'And where have Tweed, Newman and Paula buzzed off to?'
    'It was Tweed's idea - to go and call on Jeremy's widow, Mrs Mordaunt. She lives in Eaton Square. He wouldn't let me phone her to say they were coming.'

    CHAPTER 2

    When Lisa saw Eyebrows and Skinny walking towards her inside Waterloo station she moved fast. Grabbing hold of her case, she waited a few seconds until a group of businessmen were passing her phone booth, then slipped out under the cover they provided. There was a large bookstall in the middle of the concourse. She hurried inside, wriggled her way past the crowd, emerged on the far side.
    Pausing, she whipped a folded scarf out of her pocket, wrapped it round her head, concealing her red hair. Now she had to get rid of her blasted case, which was slowing her down. She handed in her case to an official. Now she could really move.
    Her next stop was the Underground. She bought a ticket for the first place which came into her head after glancing at a route plan. Highgate. Glancing behind herself as she hurried towards the escalators she saw Eyebrows, pushing people out of his way, coming towards her.
    'Oh, God!' she said under her breath. 'Will I never shake them off?'
    She saw a uniformed station guard ahead. Running up to him, she spoke in a deliberately shaky voice.
    'That dark-haired man just made an obscene proposi tion to me. I'm frightened.'
    'I'll have a word . . .'
    At the top of the escalator Lisa looked back. The guard was saying something to her pursuer. Eyebrows