Rhinoceros

by Colin Forbes

  Tweed waited until his plump visitor had run out of breath. Then he seated her on a couch and she placed the folder on a coffee table in front of her. He suggested she might like a drink.

  'A brandy and soda?'

  'That would be lovely. Really lovely. And so kind of you. The moment I saw you I knew you were a kind man. Such a very kind man.'

  Paula poured her a drink. Her hand slipped and she poured more brandy into the glass than she had intended. She smiled as she handed it to her visitor.

  'It may be too strong. I made a mistake. I can pour a milder one . . .'

  She stopped speaking. Mrs France had swallowed half the glass at one go. Her eyes, behind the atrocious spectacles, sparkled with pleasure.

  'Oh, I feel so much better. I had to rush to get here in my VW. But I had to be careful I was not followed.'

  'Who would follow you?' Tweed enquired, sitting opposite her.

  'The chauffeur. Danzer! He creeps about the house, appears at my side like a ghost. A peculiar man. Not the sort I'd expect to be a chauffeur. A hard man but intelligent.'

  'You have something to tell me, to show me?'

  'Yes. Something is wrong at the Zurcher Kredit.' She was opening her folder, producing a sheaf of bank statements. 'There is no one in Germany I dare talk to about this.'

  'Mrs France.' Tweed stood up. 'I have a close friend over here for twenty-four hours. Would you mind if he joined us?'

  'Of course not. If he is a close friend of yours then he can be trusted. That is so important. Trust. . .'

  Tweed called Keith Kent, asked him to come along. When he came in, Tweed introduced him.

  'This is Mrs France, chief accountant at the Zurcher Kredit. Mrs France, this is Peter, financial director of a company in London.'

  'I am pleased to meet you,' Kent said, sitting beside her. 'I may say that anything you tell us will be treated in the strictest confidence.'

  'You are a friend of Tweed's, so of course I trust you. Now, I am taking too long.' She spread the statements, a number of which had on them circles in pen. 'These are photocopies you may keep. A huge sum of money has been extracted from important clients' accounts. Then, if you can follow me, the money was wired electronically to a bank in the Bahamas. The strange thing is the money was immediately returned - again wired electronically -back to the Zurcher Kredit in Hamburg. The original wire carried this symbol. That means the transfer was a mistake and must be returned immediately. Which it was. Do you understand?'

  'Yes,' Kent said after studying the documents, 'I think I do.'

  'Is that technically possible?' Tweed asked.

  'Yes, it is,' Kent assured him. 'Not everyone knows how to do it. But I can see that's what happened here.'

  'Why on earth would someone take all that trouble?' Tweed wondered.

  'It's very mysterious,' Kent agreed. He pondered. 'It is possible that the vital "return immediately" symbol was inserted at the very last moment. Just before transmission.'

  'By someone else?' Tweed pressed. 'Rather than by whoever started the movement of the money originally?'

  'That is possible. It would require a swift and secret action — to insert the symbol at the last moment.'

  'Who at the bank would know about the system, Mrs France?'

  'The two partners.' She tapped the rim of her half-full glass against her teeth. 'Of course, Danzer has a large account at the bank.'

  'Why mention Danzer?' Tweed enquired.

  'Because he has a lot of qualifications. He was once the head accountant at another bank. Then he is an engineer. And he is also an expert on explosives. I overheard that bit.'

  'Explosives?' Tweed was taken aback. 'Has he ever used that expertise while in the employ of Rondel and his partner?'

  'Not so far as I know.'

  She checked her watch, finished off her drink, climbed to her feet.

  'I do hope you will excuse me. I must go now to buy something before the late-night store closes. It is my excuse for coming here.' She looked at Kent. 'Please keep those papers for Mr Tweed. Now I really must go. Mr Tweed, I am so very grateful to you. I simply must go . . .'

  When she had gone Kent went back to his own room, taking the photocopies with him. Tweed later picked up the phone and called Lisa.

  'Tweed here. We are leaving early in the morning. Could you pack your things? You can do that in five minutes? Good. Later we'll all have dinner . . .'

  'That's a mistake,' said Paula. 'A big mistake, taking her.'

  'No, it isn't. Then we can keep an eye on her.'

  Paula opened the door cautiously when someone tapped on it. Nield walked in and his manner suggested he was in a hurry.

  'First, hours ago I saw Oskar Vernon walk into the Atlantic.'

  'Did you see any contact between him and Gavin Thunder?'

  'None at all. He arrived a while after Thunder rushed in. But recently another VIP, American, was smuggled in.'

  'Smuggled in? What do you mean?'

  'Rushed him in via the service elevator. Big tough guards galore. One came up to me, said "Staying long?" I was eating an apple, pretending to read a book. I snapped at him, said I was waiting for my girlfriend, if it was any of his business. He pushed off. Must get back now. May see more . . .'

  Tweed wandered out of the suite onto the balcony and Paula followed. It was dark and across the water buildings were illuminated mistily, more like a beautiful painting. On the opposite shore two tall church spires glowed in the illumination while street lamps were reflected in the still water, like small daggers of light. They stood there, admiring the beauty of it all.

  'It's like a ghost painting,' Tweed said, half to himself. 'And now we have Gavin Thunder and one of the most powerful men in America slipping into the Atlantic Hotel. On top of that we have Oskar going into the Atlantic not so long after Thunder arrived. You know something. Looking at that wonderful view, which is a bit muddled, I'm wondering if I've got everything the wrong way round, back to front.'

  CHAPTER 27

  Nield was sitting behind the wheel of his Opel when it happened. He had his window open since the heat seemed more torrid than ever. The barrel of the Magnum revolver appeared inside the window. He froze.

  'Now get out very slowly. And keep your hands away from any pockets. Otherwise this cannon is likely to take on a life of it own.'

  Nield opened the door carefully as the muzzle of the gun retreated a foot or so. He was livid. He recognized who was speaking. The same American who had approached him earlier.

  It was only when he stood on the pavement that he realized the guard, clad in civilian clothes, was built like a quarterback. Over six feet tall, his face a fixed mask. Not someone to underestimate.

  'Now, buddy, turn so that your back's to me. Again, very slowly. No sudden movements. They make me nervous, trigger-happy.'

  Nield revolved in slow motion, stopped when he had his back to the guard. He felt the muzzle rammed into his back. He swore inwardly. No one else appeared to be about and the street, so far as he could see, was deserted. He took a deep breath to cool his anger.

  'Next move, buddy, is I'm going to check you. First for weapons. Then for identification. Get it? Because if you don't there'll be one big bang. Don't want you getting brave, do we? The gun is in my right hand and will stay there. Guess I'll use my left hand to check you out. Your girlfriend should have come earlier. Much earlier.'

  Nield stood stiffly. His Walther was clamped under the dashboard. He'd grown sloppy, sitting in the car too long, staring at the entrance to the Atlantic. The bastard had crept up behind his car.

  'One false move and I'll blow your spine in half.' Another voice. Harry's. Cold as the Arctic. 'This, chum, is an automatic jammed into your back. So maybe you should drop the piece, as I believe you call it, on the pavement. Now!'

  The gun hit the pavement with a dull clunk! Hearing the sound, Nield spun round, stooped quickly, picked up the weapon. He held it close to the American's face. His expression worried t
he guard. It was so devoid of emotion.

  'Now,' Nield began, 'let's get something straight before I blow a hole in your head. You're guarding someone important at the Atlantic. We need to know who he is. Talk.'

  'Top secret,' the guard mumbled.

  The muzzle of his own gun moved closer to his right eye and he blinked. If anyone knew the devastating result of pulling the trigger it was the guard.

  'I'll ask you once more,' Nield continued in the same neutral tone. 'Who did you hustle in, using the freight elevator? We may be on the same mission. We're Special Branch, controlled by New Scotland Yard. You tell us who you're guarding and we'll tell you who we're protecting. Deal? Or shall I pull the trigger? We could always dump you in the lake. It's close enough.'

  'Just between us?' The guard licked his lips. 'If my guys get to know it's court martial for me.'

  'Just between us. My trigger finger is getting itchy.'

  'The Secretary of State. Who are you protecting?"

  'Winston Churchill.'

  Nield stood several paces back from the American who looked furious. He knew Harry was still behind the guard with the Walther pressed into his back. He emptied the huge revolver of bullets, threw them one by one across the road into the park at different angles. The American was appalled.

  'How do I explain to my sergeant that I've lost my bullets?'

  'Easy. You don't. Surely you can slip into your ammo store and load up again?'

  'Guess mebbee I could at that.' The guard took back from Nield his weapon, tucked it down a holster inside his jacket. 'Special Branch? I heard of you guys.'

  'The CIA would.'

  'That's right

  The guard stopped speaking suddenly. He had given away the organization he belonged to. He walked back to the hotel slowly, taking long strides. When he reached the Atlantic he ran up the steps, disappeared. He hadn't risked looking back once.

  'You really can talk on your feet,' Harry said.

  'I had to pressure him to make him talk. Now I'm going back to tell Tweed the news. I think he'll be interested in the confirmation.'

  'I'll drive you to the Four Seasons, then take over the watch. But I'll have to park in a different place.'

  'Very British,' Nield remarked as Harry started the car, 'the way Gavin Thunder sneaked in on his own. Whereas the Secretary of State has a small army to look after his precious hide.'

  Nield arrived outside the door to Tweed's suite at the same moment as Paula, who was carrying a coloured brochure.

  'I have news for him,' she said.

  'I have a little news myself . . .'

  Tweed, still in his shirt sleeves — the humidity had become even worse - ushered them both inside. Nield drank two glasses of water and sighed with relief.

  'We have news,' Paula reported. 'I think Pete should speak first.'

  'The American Secretary of State is staying at the Atlantic,' Nield announced.

  'So it's all coming together. Paula, you'll recall how this has happened in the past. Suddenly everything accelerates and the pace never lets up until we reach the climax. We are at that stage now.'

  He listened while Nield swiftly told him the circumstances under which they had obtained the information. Tweed said nothing but he was frowning as Nield completed his report.

  'Pete, do you think that CIA guard will talk when he is with his pals?'

  'I bet he won't,' said Paula. 'Not with his career on the line.'

  'I agree,' Nield commented. 'Now I'd better get some sleep.'

  'Harry also needs some,' Tweed decided. 'Bring him in and then both of you go straight to bed.' When Nield had left he turned to Paula. 'Something on your mind?'

  'You remember when Lisa was in the clinic and desperately trying to tell us something? Ham . . . Dan . . . 4S? Recently we thought she was trying to say "Danzer", the chauffeur. I was going through some brochures I picked up downstairs. Look.'

  She held up a coloured brochure. It folded out but she had it closed. On the front were three large letters. DAN. She opened it out and the complete word appeared. DANEMARK.

  'The German word for Denmark,' she said. 'I think that was what Lisa was trying to say. There's something significant in Denmark.'

  'Better ask her when we're all together in the limo in the morning. You could be right. And Denmark is in the far north from here - Milo said that's where his headquarters are.'

  Marler arrived just when Paula had finished speaking. He looked as though he'd just had eight hours' sleep, when actually he hadn't had any. He looked at Tweed.

  'You've had time to think over the battle plan we worked out. Any doubts?'

  'None. It's a flexible plan, allowing for several different situations. I reckon if it's Delgado who is commanding their attack he may have between fifteen and thirty men. And we only have six.'

  'Seven,' Marler corrected him. 'Lisa will be with us and I gave her a Beretta automatic with plenty of ammo. Don't look like that, Tweed. I took her to a shooting gallery here I know of. She scored six bull's-eyes twice, the third time it was five bulls, one inner. Not bad. I was staggered.'

  'You're in charge.'

  Tweed didn't look at Paula. He knew she would be pulling a sour face, expressing doubt. They then had another visitor. When Paula opened the door Nield came in again.

  'More news. I'd just climbed into the Opel Harry had parked in a different position when we saw someone come out of the Atlantic and walk briskly back here. You'll never guess who it was.'

  'Come on,' Tweed snapped.

  'The Brig. Bernard, Lord Barford.'

  'Probably went up to have a drink at a different place.'

  'So why was he carrying an old-fashioned briefcase?'

  Tweed walked out onto the balcony as Nield left. Paula joined him as he stared into the distance. He drank the rest of the Scotch from a glass he had picked up, lit a cigarette.

  'It does look as though I've got it all back to front,' he said eventually. 'And tomorrow - prepare for a day of undiluted hell.'

  CHAPTER 28

  The cream Mercedes was moving along the autobahn but keeping within the speed limit. It had left Hamburg and its suburbs well behind and the wide road ahead was deserted, crossing open country. There had been traffic in the city and for a distance beyond it - huge juggernauts and a few private cars. Now they had the world to themselves.

  Newman was behind the wheel of the stretch limo, with Marler beside him. In the middle section Tweed sat behind Newman with Paula next to him, while in the rear Nield was behind Tweed with Lisa alongside him. No one had spoken for some time and there was an atmosphere of tension inside the large car. Paula kept wiping the palms of her hands on paper handkerchiefs so, when the time came, her fingers would not slip as she gripped the butt of her Browning.

  The sun glared down on them mercilessly out of a clear blue sky and, despite the air-conditioning, the heat was building up inside the Merc. Paula was gazing out at the endless fields of crops which spread out to the horizon.

  'Maize,' said Tweed. 'Scores of acres of it. And because of the heatwave it's almost ready for harvesting. It's really very tall.'

  'Is that a point in our favour?' she asked.

  'It could be - unless they've laid an ambush ahead of us.'

  'It's just what I would have ordered,' Marler called back. 'It could turn the tide for us.'

  Newman kept the car moving. One private car passed them coming in the opposite direction, the first they had seen for a while. Then the autobahn ahead was clear again and they ate up more miles.

  'How far are we from Flensburg?' Lisa called out.

  'A very long way yet. Over an hour's drive, easily,' Tweed replied. 'We're in the middle of nowhere.'

  'I've only seen the very occasional farmhouse,' Lisa remarked.

  Paula studied the fields again. They came almost up to the edge of the autobahn. The thick plants of maize had large leaves and there were no gaps between them. It was a sea of uninterrupted green. She had never be
fore seen such a continous mass of crops.

  'They're taking their time,' Paula said.

  'Have patience,' Tweed advised. 'They will come.'

  Fifteen minutes behind them Harry was driving steadily up the autobahn in his blue Merc with tinted windows. He couldn't see the cream limo — it was too far ahead of him. He was constantly checking his rear-view mirror, seeing nothing. On the seat beside him rested the Uzi machine pistol. It was fully loaded.

  He checked the rear-view mirror once more and stiffened. Out of nowhere a four-wheel drive had appeared. He thought it was a Discovery Land Rover. It was coming like a rocket. Then he saw another vehicle of the same type racing up behind the lead vehicle. Then a third. Then a fourth.

  He maintained the same speed. The first vehicle was about to overtake him. He glanced up as it raced past him, saw the man at the wheel, wearing a black beret and a camouflage jacket. Delgado.

  The second vehicle passed him. The third. The fourth. All the Land Rovers were crammed with villainous-looking men. Some were holding automatic rifles. He picked up his mobile, called Marler.

  'Harry here. Four Land Rovers coming up behind you - packed with armed thugs. They're really moving. Saw Delgado driving the first one . . .'

  'Thank you. Harry,' Marler's calm voice responded. 'How far back?'

  'Could reach you in five minutes. Even less . . .'