by Colin Forbes
'Simple.' Paula called out, 'but you noticed it, unlike so many people would have done – and drew the right conclusion. I'm still flabbergasted that it should have been Bill. He seemed such a nice chap.'
'Which is what people say after the event about a lot of killers.' Tweed reminded her.
The rest of the day had been full of frenetic activity. Butler had had the bullet removed from his thigh at the hospital. The doctor had said it was just a deep flesh wound, that he had been lucky. Butler had spun him a yarn about how he was checking his Walther, not realizing it was loaded, and had shot himself. Paula had explained Arthur Beck, Chief of Federal Police, was a friend and this had satisfied the doctor. Plus the fact that Beck had arranged for an ambulance to meet the jet when they arrived in Zurich.
Tweed had been on the line from the Hotel Elite, where he had moved to, calling Beck. Which was how they knew Brazil was still at the Baur-en-Ville in Bahnhofstrasse. Tweed was determined to arrive in the city before Brazil left it.
All Sion was talking about the avalanche on the Kellerhorn.
Prior to Tweed leaving the airfield, he had witnessed a second avalanche roaring down from the summit. The second tidal wave of rocks and shale had buried the bodies of Brazil's men. Searching the mountain through his field glasses, he had seen no sign of any of the casualties. He doubted that they would ever be discovered.
'No need for that ambulance when we get to Zurich.' Butler called out. 'I feel fighting fit.'
'You will go in the ambulance.' Paula told him sternly. 'I'll be coming with you. We're not going to risk any infection setting in. So pipe down.'
'You're bossy.' Butler grumbled.
'I know I am.' replied Paula, and laughed.
Close behind them Marler drove the other vehicle with Philip beside him and Nield in the back. They all carried satchels, containing the remains of their armoury.
On the way down the mountain the previous day, Newman had stopped briefly when they were passing a narrow setback in the mountain. Carrying the rocket launcher, he had eased his way inside the crevice, had found a deep hole in the ground. He had dropped the launcher down it and when he never heard it hit bottom he knew he had chosen the right place.
It was still daylight when they reached the airfield. Tweed had warned the controller they were coming, had asked him to alert the aircrew. Paula looped her arm inside Butler's to help him up the mobile staircase. His only comment had been amiable.
'And I never thought you cared…'
The jet took off minutes after they were all aboard, climbed steeply and headed for the mountains. Paula, by a window seat, looked down on the Kellerhorn, thinking she never wished to see it again. Then it was dark. Tweed called back to the others.
'Beck knows we're coming. He'll have two unmarked cars to take us to the Schweizerhof. We'll be in time for dinner.'
After landing in Zurich in his white jet, Brazil had been driven to a bank in Bahnhofstrasse. To his fury he found the bank had just closed. Inside were the proceeds he had obtained by secretly selling some of the bearer bonds in his possession. The considerable sum of cash they had been converted into was his nest egg.
Fuming to himself, he had ordered his driver to take him back to the Baur-en-Ville. It meant staying overnight in the Swiss city. Not a prospect he desired – his one desire was to return to Dorset, to get out of Switzerland quickly.
When he walked into the lounge Eve was sitting in a chair, reading a fashion magazine. She was wearing anexpensive white two-piece suit which she had just bought.
'Have a good trip?' she called out.
Brazil walked straight past her, as though unaware of her existence. He disappeared inside a lift. She dropped the magazine.
'Rude devil.' she muttered. 'You can get stuffed.'
To get over her annoyance she lit a fresh cigarette from the one she had been smoking, stood up, and strolled into the bar. Perching on a stool, she ordered a large vodka, downed it, ordered another. She made eye contact with several men who gazed at her with interest. She held their gaze just long enough to make them think she was intrigued, then tossed her head and looked away.
She spent several hours in the bar, drinking more vodka, but still remaining as sober as the proverbial judge. Then she decided she would have a long walk. Newman was on her mind. Now Brazil had returned she felt sure Newman and Tweed would reappear. Newman was her target. She had never given a thought to Philip since Brazil had left for Sion.
It piqued her that, because of the cold, she had to put on the overcoat she had carried into the bar. She would have liked to flaunt her new outfit along Bahnhofstrasse, watching men lick their lips at the sight of her.
She walked in the direction of Bahnhofplatz and the Hotel Schweizerhof. Entering the lobby, she marched up to the concierge, her manner supremely confident.
'I have an appointment with Mr Robert Newman when he arrives.' she lied.
'He's expected any moment.'
The concierge stopped speaking, wondering if he had committed an indiscretion. He was standing in for the permanent concierge and had not yet sorted out who was who. The very attractive woman with the imperious attitude had given him the impression she was staying at the hotel, which had been Eve's intention.
You can fool men any time, she thought as she descended the steps into the Bistro leading off the lobby.
This further confirmed to the concierge that she was a guest and he felt better. He would not have felt so relieved had he seen Eve leave the Bistro immediately by the second door on to the street.
She descended by an escalator into Shopville, the shopping centre under the platz. Ignoring the shops – she preferred Bahnhofstrasse where the prices were sky-high – she rode up an escalator on the far side which took her into the main station. She then stood at the top of the steps a few feet inside the station. From here she could see any arrivals at the Schweizerhof.
She had been so concentrating on the pleasant feel of the new suit under her coat it never occurred to her that she might have been followed from the Baur-en-Ville. Across the platz, standing in a doorway, Gustav patiently waited, never taking his eyes off Eve.
Tweed and Newman, carrying their cases, with Philip behind them, left the unmarked police car which had brought them from Kloten Airport. They disappeared inside the Schweizerhof. Still wary, Tweed had arranged for Marler and Nield to stay at the Gotthard nearby.
Arriving at the airport, priority had been given to Butler, who, with Paula in attendance, had been taken off the jet first, put inside a waiting ambulance, rushed to a hospital where a waiting staff and doctor had examined him at once.
The doctor, expecting far worse, had been surprised. He had treated Butler, replaced the bandages. Then he had a word with Paula in the corridor outside the private room where Butler was kicking up merry hell.
'No sign of infection, Miss Grey, the doctor at Sion did a good job. He's very rebellious. What would happen if I let him go now?'
'I'd take him to a hotel, make him go to bed and rest.'
'Really what he now needs is a good night's sleep.'
'I'll see he gets that.' Paula had replied with determination.
'Mr Beck has supplied an unmarked police car to take him from here when I give the go-ahead. Mr Butler doesn't like anything medical. I think you should take him to a hotel.'
Which is how Eve, who had walked halfway across the platz and was standing on a pedestrian platform, came to see a car pull up outside the hotel, a tough-looking man get out, while Paula firmly held one arm.
Paula happened to glance across the platz, saw Eve staring. Their eyes met for a brief moment. Paula's expression was blank but Eve's was full of venom. She disliked Paula and sneered to herself. So that's her boy friend, she thought, and she hangs onto his arm like a leech.
Accompanying Butler inside, Paula told the concierge he had had a fall so could she take him up to his room at once? She would bring his passport down shortly and deal with the registra
tion. The concierge agreed without hesitation, gave her the number and key of a good room on the first floor.
Paula was troubled as she took Butler to his room and waited in the bathroom while he got undressed and into the pyjamas he had unpacked from the case she had carried. It was the unexpected sight of Eve which worried her and made her think furiously. Should she tell Philip? In spite of what he had said earlier she knew some women had only to crook their little finger and the men came running.
After he was settled in bed and had given Paula his passport, Butler promptly fell fast asleep. She phoned the concierge, obtained the number of her own room and an assurance that the housekeeper would be waiting outside her room with the key.
She unpacked very quickly, went down to the concierge, completed the registrations, went back up to Tweed's room. The three of them were sitting in armchairs – Tweed, Philip, and Newman. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Philip as she sat down thankfully, crossing her legs.
'Philip, I saw Eve floating about in the platz.'
'Let her float – to kingdom come as far as I'm concerned. Don't want to see that woman again. Ever.'
'Curious she should be near this hotel.' said the ever-suspicious Tweed.
'I suppose she's staying with Brazil.' Paula remarked.
'He's welcome to her.' said Philip. 'They make a pretty pair.'
Eve crossed the platz to outside the Schweizerhof, weighing up whether to go in and ask for Newman. No, best to phone him, bearing in mind what she was going to demand.
She hurried back to the phone box in Bahnhofstrasse she had used before. Opening a small notebook, she checked the number of the Schweizerhof and called it, asking for Mr Robert Newman.
There was a pause. Newman was on his way back to his own room and heard the phone ringing as he entered. Locking the door, he ran to the phone.
'Yes, who is it?'
'Bob, it's Eve. I've missed you.'
'All right. What are you after?'
'Don't be like that. We could make music together.'
'Discordant music.'
'You're not being at all nice to me.'
'Get to the point.'
'I will.' Her voice hardened. 'How would you like the scoop of your career? Something so sensational you would hit the headlines all over the world.'
'Go on, if you must.'
'I can give you the real story of Leopold Brazil. And I have evidence to back it up. How he seduced twenty of the world's top scientists to work for him.'
'Did he?' Newman enquired in a bored voice.
'You listen to me.' she snarled. 'I had notes taken from his secret files giving all the intimate details about those missing scientists. Later, I was able to photograph the sheets from those files. Ed Reynolds, Irina Krivitsky, and others. Are you listening?'
'Vaguely.'
'I want one hundred thousand pounds for the information.'
'You don't want much, do you?'
'You can syndicate your expose. You'll make another fortune. I'm offering it to you cheap for one hundred thousand pounds. Other people would pay one helluva sight more.'
'Go to other people.'
'You'd make the most terrific job of it. I've read some of your stuff. And on top of the hundred thousand I'd want five per cent of the total profits.'
'You're making my mouth water.' he said cynically.
'When you ponder it you'll come round to my way of thinking. I'm at the Baur-en-Ville. Give your name as Cross when you phone me.'
'Mr Double-Cross?'
Newman put down the phone. He had a reaction of complete revulsion.
47
Eve flounced out of the phone box, hurried back to the Baur-en-Ville. She was going to the bar. She needed a large vodka.
Gustav had watched her from inside a shop front across the street. As soon as she was hidden by an approaching tram he ran across to the phone box. A grim-looking woman had her hand reached out for the door of the phone box. He brushed her aside, ignored her abuse, pretended to look up a number.
As soon as she had gone he detached the miniature listening and recording device he had hidden, pulling hard at the suckers which held it in place. Gustav had hoped that if she made another call she would use the phone box he had seen her use before.
He wasted no time getting back to his office in the hotel. Once inside, he locked the door, extracted the cassette, placed it in the machine which played it back, listened with growing excitement. He had never liked Eve.
He was walking along the corridor to Brazil's room when his chief came up behind him. Gustav dropped back as Eve came out of her room. She had freshened herself up and was on her way to the bar.
'Where is Jose?' she asked.
'Jose decided to stay behind,' Brazil told her cheerfully. 'I think he's gone home.'
'I'll be in the bar if you want me.' she said.
'Where else?' replied Brazil, even more cheerfully.
He was unlocking his door when Gustav came up behind him, said he'd like a private word.
'Is it important?' asked Brazil.
'I think you should judge that for yourself.'
'Oh, all right. You'd better come in. But not for long.'
Brazil sat behind his desk, hoping Gustav would soon go away. He wanted to listen to the latest radio reports -particularly if anything had slipped through about the situation in Moscow.
'I want to play you a tape.' Gustav said.
Brazil frowned, nodded his head, sat back while Gustav inserted the tape in the machine on his desk, pressed the play button. Nothing changed in his expression as he heard what was on the tape. Brazil had iron self-control. When the tape ran out Gustav looked at his boss expectantly.
'I had seen her go into that phone box before.' he explained. 'So, thinking she might use it again, I attached one of my recorders inside the box. The same recorder which I put under Jose's desk.'
'Leave the tape with me.'
'You don't want me to…'
'I want you to go and get on with your work.'
He waited until Gustav had left, got up, locked the door and returned to his desk. Gustav had rewound the tape before leaving. Brazil pressed the play button and listened again.
… the scoop of your career… I can give you the real story of Leopold Brazil… I was able to photograph the sheets from those files…
… one hundred thousand pounds for the information…
When the tape was finished Brazil rewound it, extracted the cassette, slipped it into his pocket. He sat down again behind his desk, his expression grim.
I trusted her, he thought. I paid her a huge salary, but even that wasn't enough. More treachery among my own ranks. Greed is her driving force. Loyalty to no one except her hideous self.
Brazil spent a long time gazing at the opposite wall, replaying in his mind what he had heard on the tape. He pulled himself together with a jerk, switched on the radio.
Now he would never be able to send the second signal – which would have obliterated all world communications. But he had done enough to give Marov the opportunity to seize full control. Russia was now again a major power, a menace which would wake up the West.
Newman had sat in his own room for awhile. He was writing down in his swift hand the gist of his conversation with Eve Warner. Then he had a good wash, brushed his hair, and went along to Tweed's room.
Tweed was listening to the World Service as more and more reports came through. Paula sat in a chair close to Philip as they also listened. Tweed switched off the radio when Newman was let in by Philip.
'Brazil has achieved a lot of his plan,' he told Newman. 'It's strange, but I still find myself agreeing with the blackguard's ideas. I'm sure Brazil planned to send a second signal – probably to do it himself as he was at the ground station – but you stopped him by destroying the ground station. Which is a blessing.'
'Why?' asked Newman.
'One of our agents flew out of Russia before Marov shut down the frontiers. He tri
ed to call me from Frankfurt and talked to Monica when I wasn't available. There have been rumours of Russian troops massing on the border separating Russia from Ukraine. I'm sure Marov – with the aid of the considerable Russian population there – planned to occupy Ukraine. Then we would have faced a huge world crisis.'
'Because Ukraine has a long border with Poland.' Newman suggested.
'Exactly.' agreed Tweed. 'The Russian Army would have loomed over Western Europe. People forget they still have most of the immense armoury of weapons they built up during the Cold War. And it's quite definite that a proclamation has been issued, making all the previously private shops state concerns. Bread rationing has been brought back. The Russian people may not enjoy queuing up but they'll know there is bread to be bought at controlled prices daily.'
That's Communism.' Newman objected.
'No, it isn't. Marov is being very clever. He's using the bits of Communism which guaranteed food supplies -but the proclamation was issued in the name of All The Russias. The ailing President signed it, but Marov has countersigned it. So we know who is now in charge.'
'Their economy is still in ruins.' Newman objected again.
'Not really. It was when Gorbachev dabbled with a capitalistic economy – and the Mafia took over. It's also been announced the state is taking over all the factories -including those making armaments. With the borders shut down tightly the economy will stabilize.' He changed the subject. 'You took a long time having a bath.'
Newman glanced at Philip, then told them about his long phone conversation with Eve. Philip exploded.
'There you are! She's shown her true face. She'll do anything to grab hold of money.'
'I think she'll try and get back to me.' Newman commented. 'If she does I'll listen again and say nothing.'
'While you were enjoying yourself.' Tweed said with wry humour, 'I had a call from Monica. Howard is spinning round in circles again. I got a taxi over to Beck's HQ. I needed a safe phone to call the PM.'
'What happened?' asked Paula eagerly.
