By Stealth by Colin Forbes

Author:Colin Forbes [Forbes, Colin]
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-07-19T14:00:00+00:00

On their way back to Park Crescent — with George driving and Butler hugging the executive case — Tweed had the car stopped near a public phone box. He called Commander Noble of Naval Intelligence.

`I have something technically unique to hand over to you,' he told the Commander. 'The sooner you reach my office the better...'

Tweed was surprised by the speed with which Noble reacted. He had hardly taken off his Burberry and settled himself behind his desk when Monica answered the phone.

`It's Commander Noble again. Waiting downstairs.'

`Wheel him up...'

Noble sat down in the armchair, gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from Monica, and listened without interruption. Tweed told him quite frankly about the dramatic interview with Gaston Delvaux, about the small Stealth plane he had constructed inside his plant. Then Butler handed over the executive case.

`I wonder?' said Noble.

He opened the case, examined the new device, handling

it with great sensitivity. Then he replaced it inside the case. `I wonder,' he said again, 'whether this device really does work in the way Delvaux claims?'

`You'd better test it.' Tweed leaned forward. 'And may I suggest your boffins get their skates on? Delvaux has always known what he's doing before. He turned down that super-gun idea with the incredibly long barrel the Iraqis pinned their faith on. Delvaux did some mathematical calculations, said the theory was unsound.'

`Oh, we'll test it,' Noble assured him. 'Both Naval and Air Intelligence. And as a top priority. Did you notice my car parked outside with three men inside?'

`Yes, I did,' Tweed replied. 'A big job. Heavy looking.'

`Should be. It's armour-plated. And my escort is armed. Thank you, Tweed. If you don't mind, I'll get the show on the road...'

When Noble had gone Tweed swung round in his swivel chair. He faced Butler as he gave him the instruction.

`A job right up your street. Drive down to April Lodge, Brockenhurst. It's somewhere on the outskirts. Owned by a Mrs Goshawk. I think she had a lodger, a Dr Carberry- Hyde. Try and find out if she knows where he is now. If necessary, put on the pressure.'

`I'm on my way...'

`A man of few words but plenty of action,' Tweed commented to Monica when they were alone. 'And I have a job for you. Come over and look at this photo taken in Mexico City.' As she leant over his shoulder he pointed to the figure Rabin had identified.

`Dr Carberry-Hyde. I want the Engine Room wizards to blow up his picture to a size about five inches wide by five deep. Glossy prints. One hundred copies. If they kick up tell them I'm expecting another miracle...'

Monica paused at the door, the framed photo under her arm. Tweed looked up and waited.

`I was just wondering whether they really do exist — invisible ships. We know Stealth planes do — the Americans built the Stealth B2 bombers. But ships? I ask you.'

`I'm relying on Paula's eyesight that night when Boyd died in Lymington.' Tweed paused. 'But you're right — it does stretch the imagination.

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