The Main Chance by Colin Forbes Read Free Book Online Page A

Removing his reading glasses he glanced at the mobile. It would be at least forty-eight hours before it rang, telling him the first phase of his plan had been completed.

    Two days later at eight in the evening the mobile buzzed. Calouste grabbed it.
    `Yes, who is speaking?'
    `Orion here. The news is not good. Not good at all...'
    The voice was robotic. The caller was using some kind of instrument which completely distorted the voice. Impossible to tell whether it was the voice of a man or a woman.
    `What the hell do you mean?' Calouste demanded. `The plan failed. Tweed and Paula Grey are alive
    and well. Back in London, I assume. Alive and well...' ` You said that before ." he screeched.
    He slammed the mobile closed. He was going to have to start all over again. He started to swear in the foulest French.

    6

    When Tweed and Paula arrived back from Hengistbury all the core staff were assembled. Tweed gazed round at them. Marler, tall and slim, in his late thirties, occupied his favourite position. He was standing up, leaning against the wall next to Paula, now seated at her desk in the far corner by the large windows. He was smoking a cigarette in a long black holder.
    As always, he was smartly dressed, his dark hair neatly trimmed He wore a well-cut beige suit, dark blue shirt, Chanel tie. Marler was reputed to be the top marksman in Europe with his Armalite rifle. Clean shaven, his face was handsome, attracting envious attention from elegant women when he walked down any London street.
    `In case you think we've been lounging about,' he began in his upper-crust voice, 'we've all been out and busy. I've been in the East End where agents of a certain Calouste Doubenkian have been recruiting the
    worst types — brutal thugs, some killers who have never been caught for their crimes. Thought I'd just mention it in view of Philip Cardon's phone call, passed on to me by Monica.'
    ` What! ' gulped Paula.
    `Don't I speak so good?' Marler enquired cynically. `You see?' Paula called out to Tweed.
    `Harry,' Tweed responded, as though not having heard what had just been said. 'No, I mean you, Pete,' he said to Pete Nield, five feet seven tall and also neatly clad, but without the panache of Marler. 'You have a pal in one of the three gold-bullion merchants. Got something for you.'
    Paula jumped up to join him as Pete fingered his neat moustache by the side of Tweed's desk. An educated man, his team-mate was Harry Butler, seated cross-legged on the floor. A greater contrast between the two men would have been difficult to imagine. Harry wore a shabby old windcheater, trousers which had seen better days. He was indignant.
    `I've got twice the number of underground contacts Pete has,' he grumbled.
    Tweed, absorbed, ignored the protest. Laying a sheet of thick white paper on his desk he carefully took his white display handkerchief from his top pocket, emptied the contents onto the sheet. Peter switched on a desk lamp. The specks and one larger piece glittered brilliantly in the light.
    `Pete,' Tweed said, `is that gold?'
    `Oh,' said Paula, 'so that's what you were doing. Wetting your handkerchief in the water carafe, then pressing it on the carpet while Bella and Lavinia were struggling to open their awkward drawer.'
    `What do you think, Pete?' Tweed asked, ignoring another interruption.
    Pete had produced a powerful magnifying glass from a pocket. He peered at each speck for several minutes, spending most time on the largest piece.
    `I need to take this to my pal who is an expert,' he said eventually. 'But for my money this is gold.'
    `I need to know how long ago it was mined. Also, if it's possible, where.'
    `Should be back within two hours,' Pete said, checking his watch. 'My contact works through the afternoons and evenings. Sleeps in the morning.'
    As he spoke he converted the paper sheet into a chute, then skilfully emptied the contents back into Tweed's display handkerchief. Screwing it up gently he produced a clean white