Precipice

'Think! Dorset. Marler kept under cover all the time. None of my three suspects saw him – and when Marler was in the office when Franklin was here he refused to give Franklin his name. Also neither Butler nor Nield appeared.'

'It's creepy.' Monica commented.

'Oh, what was that bit about I gather help is on the way Archie ended up with?' Tweed asked.

'Archie phoned before Bob arrived.' Monica explained. 'You'd told me about him and he said he desperately needed back-up. Paula volunteered. She dashed off to Heathrow to catch a flight to Geneva.' Monica saw the expression on Tweed's face. 'She was excited about the idea…'

'You let her go! On her own!' Tweed exploded. 'She's going into the cauldron and won't be armed. Will she? I leave the office for a couple of hours and you allow this insanity to happen!'

Tweed was in one of his very rare rages. Monica looked appalled. In all the years she had worked for him he had never spoken to her like this. He was pacing round his office.

'I couldn't… have… stopped… her.' she stuttered.

Newman, calm as always, lit a cigarette. He watched as Tweed went round his desk and thudded into his chair. For a moment Tweed said nothing, then stared at Newman.

'Could I have a cigarette?'

Newman gave him one, lit it for him. Tweed, who hardly ever smoked, handled the cigarette in the fumbling way of people not used to smoking, taking short puffs.

'You've forgotten something.' Newman said.

'Have I? What?'

'Some time ago you gave orders that if you were not here Paula was empowered to act in your stead, to take any decision on her own without reference to anyone. You weren't here when the emergency came. Neither was I.'

'That's true. You are quite right.' Tweed had quietened down as swiftly as he had blown his top. 'Monica, a thousand apologies for my totally unreasonable outburst. I am very sorry.'

'Thank you,' said Monica. 'I appreciate what you've just said. But you are quite right – Paula couldn't have taken her Browning automatic when she was flying. But Archie covered that in his earlier call.'

'He did? How?' Tweed asked anxiously.

'He gave me the name and address of an illegal dealer in arms Marler uses. She'll go there first from the airport.'

'That's a relief.' Tweed studied the end of the cigarette he had hardly smoked, stubbed it in the crystal-glass ashtray Monica had perched on his desk. 'But how will she find Archie?'

'He covered that, too, in his first call. Whoever goes out meets him in a restaurant in the old city across the Rhone. A place called Les Armures. Archie said any cab driver knows it.'

'I know it,' said Tweed. 'You get the best kir royale in the world there.'

'Archie also said.' Monica continued, 'he'd be there from nine o'clock onwards this evening. So Paula does know how to contact him.'

'I'm still bothered. The Old City is a labyrinth of old alleys and narrow streets near the cathedral – where Les Armures is. And it will be very dark – that area is not well lit. What time does Paula fly out to Geneva?'

'She'll be in the air now.'

'What time is the next flight?'

'A couple of hours from now.' Monica said from memory.

'Well, in that case…"'

He broke off as Philip walked into the room clad in a heavy coat with a fur collar which he immediately took off. He looked at Tweed.

'I left my case packed for the Arctic downstairs.'

'Book Philip on that next flight to Geneva, Monica,' Tweed said with an air of crisp decision. 'Give him all the data Archie provided. Including the details about that underground arms dealer. Philip, Paula may be running into more trouble than one person can handle. The fact that she's a woman has nothing to do with it…'

17

Leopold Brazil stood at the window of his spacious office in the villa in Berne. He was protected from view by thick net curtains. Behind him stood Carson Craig, clad in a grey suit which had cost him a thousand pounds.

Time I left for Belp Airport, sir.' Craig reminded his chief. 'I've got your double standing by to board the jet with me. We should land at Cointrin, Geneva, in no time.'

'You said my double, Craig.' Brazil turned round and stared at him. 'Some bosses would resent the idea that they had someone who looked exactly like him.'

'I'm sorry.' Craig's brutal face crinkled into what he hoped was an apologetic expression. 'He doesn't look exactly like you.'

Brazil was amused. He didn't give a damn how closely the so-called double resembled himself, but he liked confusing his minion, who lacked a sense of humour.

'I wouldn't worry too much about it, Craig. But now I mean what I say. Go easy in Geneva.'

'We have reason to believe that trouble is on its way from London,' Craig said stubbornly. 'Our watcher at Heathrow has reported that one of Tweed's lackeys – the woman, Paula Grey – boarded a flight for Geneva. He had a good description of her from The Recorder. I'm going to wipe up Tweed's troublemakers before they can start anything.'

'Like you did at Sterndale Manor?' Brazil's tone had sharpened. 'Nobody told you to kill everybody in that house. My order was to raid the safe, make it look like a robbery.'

'We couldn't get into the house.' Craig persisted. 'I used my initiative.'

'I said go easy in Geneva. That is all.'

Craig left the room and joined his henchman, Gustav, who was waiting in an anteroom. Gustav was a fat, mean-looking man with a thin, cruel mouth.

'He's on again about us going easy,' Craig growled as they descended a wide curving marble staircase to the ground floor. 'You've got your kit?' he asked, glancing at the canvas bag Gustav was carrying.

'Everything, boss. Black leather jacket and trousers and helmet. The machines are waiting for us in Geneva with the rest of the team.'

'Good. We'll give them hell. They're getting just too close to the laboratory.'

'Where's that?'

'Shut your face.' snarled Craig.

The call to Tweed from Arthur Beck in the Federal Police building came an hour later.

Tweed, I think you should know the jet left Belp with three men a few minutes ago. My man reported Carson Craig was definitely one of the passengers. Another looked superficially like Brazil, but wasn't.'

'How could he tell?' Tweed asked.

'Body language. He observes how people move.'

'And where was this jet flying to?'

'Geneva. It should arrive there in no time. Trouble, savage trouble would be my guess – as Craig is with them. That's all for now …'

At Park Crescent Tweed put down the phone, looked at Newman and Marler with a grim expression. He told them what Beck had said.

'It looks as though Paula could be walking into an inferno.' he said bleakly.

'Then it's a good job you sent Philip.' Newman told him. 'And don't look so worried. Philip will have left his emotional baggage on his doorstep. And he likes Paula.'

'If I'd known earlier I'd have sent both of you to back up Philip. But I wanted to discuss my interview with Professor Grogarty. What do you both think is the significance of what he told me, in his mixed way?'

'I think.' Marler said, 'if it can be arranged safely you should now meet Leopold Brazil as soon as possible. I repeat, if it can be arranged so your safety is guaranteed. By us.'

'What do you suggest?'

'That at least four of us, disguised, are in the vicinity of the meeting place, which must not be a hole in the wall. By all of us I mean Bob, myself, with Butler and Nield.'

'Pete Nield is expected back from Dorset any moment.' Tweed told him. 'I overlooked one thing – I should have put a tail on Eve Warner.'

'Not to worry.' Newman replied cheerfully. 'I knew you were up to your neck so last night I called on Philip briefly in his suite at the Priory and asked him for Eve's address. She lives in a flat near mine. Quite posh. That's why Marler arrived late.'