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him。 The back door on the kerb side opened and Nicholas saw movement on the far side of the seat。 A figure leaned forward； beckoned 。to him。 'Please get in； Mr Linnear；' a vibrant voice said from out of the depths。
As he hesitated； the front door swung silently open and a brawny man in a dark blue business suit with short…cropped brown hair moved forward and guided him into the limo。 Both doors swung to with a fortable thunk that bespoke monied engineering and the limo accelerated into the traffic flow。
There was a spaciousness inside not usually an attribute of automobiles and a silence that was truly remarkable。 Outside； the city glided by as if pulled on velvet runners。 They might have been stationary； a backdrop being rolled by them； save for the slight disfitures of acceleration and deceleration。
The interior was done all in dove…grey velvet and it was； quite obviously； a custom job； nothing was as one might see it on the showroom floor。 It was cool and dim； like the ulterior of an expensive bar。 Even the vibration from the massive V…8 engine was kept to a minimum。
There were three men in the car： a driver； the man in the dark blue business suit who sat on the passenger's side in front and the figure in the back； on the opposite side of the velvet bench seat。 This last regarded him now。 He was tall and somewhat stocky。 He wore a conservative yet impeccable lightweight linen suit。 Beneath this； Nicholas could see that there was no fat on him； his bulk was muscle and bone。 He had a large head with a somewhat thrusting jaw which； overall； gave him a rather aggressive appearance。 This was enhanced by his slanting forehead and short gunmetal…grey hair。 His lean cheeks were pockmarked and his deep…set blue eyes； like marble chips；
were guarded by black bushy eyebrows。 Altogether； Nicholas decided； it was a face that had borne the brunt of many a tough decision and won them all。 Nicholas would have cast him as a general and no lower than a five…star。
'Would you care for a drink？' The man beside him had spoken in his manding voice but it was blue…business…suit who moved； turning his body part…way around on the front seat so that his left arm lay along the velvet top like an implied threat。 Nicholas found himself wondering what had happened to delay Lieutenant Croaker。
'Bacardi and bitter lemon； if you have it。' Immediately the blue business suit opened a small door in the centre of the front seat。 Nicholas heard the clink of ice against glass。 He remained calm； though he still had no idea who these people were。 He wanted to keep the man talking。 The longer he did that； the sooner he would know who he was。
'You don't look much like your photographs；' the man said almost disgustedly。
As blue…suit stretched to pour the rum； Nicholas caught a glimpse of the butt of a revolver slung with a chamois holster under the man's right armpit。 He turned his gaze away； to the city outside。 It seemed a thousand miles away。 'That's perfectly understandable；' he said。 'I've never taken a good picture； not to my knowledge； anyway。'
'Your drink；' the man in the dark blue suit said。
Nicholas reached forward through the open partition and； as he did so； he saw from certain minute changes in the other precisely what was ing。 Curious； he allowed it to happen。 As soon as his hand was through the partition； the man lifted the drink away and grabbed at Nicholas's wrist with his other hand。 It was a very swift motion yet； from Nicholas's point of view； slow and clumsy。 He could have counteracted it in any number of different ways。 Instead； he watched passively as the other gripped his wrist； exerting pressure to turn the hand over。 The man peered closely at the edge of Nicholas's hand； which was as hard and calloused as horn。 The man lifted his gaze； nodded to the man beside Nicholas； then handed Nicholas his drink。
Nicholas sipped at the Bacardi and bitter lemon； found it quite good。 Swallowing； he said； 'Are you satisfied？'
'As to your identity；〃 said the man beside him； 'yes。'
'You know more about me than I do about you；' Nicholas observed。
The man shrugged。 〃That is as it should be。'
'By your standards perhaps。' No one wore sunglasses or any kind of glasses； for that matter； no one smoked。
'Those are the only standards that count； Mr Linnear。〃
'Mind if I light up？' Nicholas's right hand moved towards his trouser pocket and； at the same time； blue…suit's left arm stiffened； moving。 He shook his head from side to side。
'You don't want to do that； Mr Linnear；' said the man beside him。 'You gave up smoking more than six months ago。' He grunted。 'Just as well。 Those black…tobaccoed cigarettes are certain killers。'
Nicholas was impressed by the depth of their information on him。 Whoever this man was； he was not an amateur。
'Did you know； Mr Linnear； that an accumulation of high…nicotine smoke can destroy the taste buds？' He nodded as if this statement needed physical confirmation。 'It's quite true。 A group at the University of North Carolina pleted the study。' He smiled。 'Ironic； isn't it？ The campus is virtually surrounded by tobacco fields。'
'I've never heard of that study；' Nicholas said。
'Well； of course you haven't。 The results are quite secret at the moment。 They're being timed for release during the annual tobacco growers' convention in Dallas next October。〃
'You seem to know a great deal about this study。'
'I should；〃 the man said； laughing。 'It was funded with my money。〃 He turned his head away； letting that sink in for several moments。
'How much do you really know about me？' Nicholas prompted。 He was almost certain now； the face remained vaguely familiar； at least parts of it。
The man swung around； impaling him on an icy stare。 'Enough to want to talk to you face to face。'
It was the piece he needed。 'I didn't recognize you at first；' Nicholas said。 Td never seen you without the beard。〃
The man smiled； rubbed at his clean…shaven chin。 'It does make quite a difference； I'll admit。' Then his face lost all its warmth and it seemed as if the flesh were carved out of granite； the difference was appalling。 'What do you want with my daughter； Mr Linnear？' His voice was like the crack of a whip。 Nicholas wondered what it would be like growing up under that fierce domination； he did not envy Justine。
'What does any man want with a woman？' he said。 'Only that； Mr Tomkin。 Nothing more。'
Out of the corner of his eye he felt the movement of blue…suit even before it came into his line of vision。 He relaxed； now was not the time。 The big beefy hands were at his shirtfront。 Some of the drink slopped over the side of the glass； ran down his trouser leg； Nicholas supposed that this man would have little trouble in picking up his side of a grand piano。 While the man held him from in front； Tomkin leaned over。 That's not very smart；' he said。 His tone had changed again； as quickly and pletely as a chameleon switches colour。 It was now steel covered thinly by velvet。 'In any event； Justine is no ordinary woman。 She's my daughter。'
'Is this how you handled Chris in San Francisco？' Nicholas said。
Tomkin was quite still for a moment； it was a breathless time。 Then； without turni