Precipice

'Do we have Anton Marchat's address in Sion?' Paula asked in a normal tone.

'We do. From Philip. We also have copies of the photo of Marchat.'

Tweed opened a briefcase, took out a wallet, handed one piece of paper to Paula and four similar sheets to Newman. Then he extracted five photos, handed one to Paula and four to Newman.

'This hasn't got Marchat's name on it.' commented Paula.

'Neither had the original which Archie wrote the address on. Archie is very careful,' Tweed replied.

'Of course. I should have thought of that. Now I've taken a decision.' Paula stood up, her expression determined. 'I appreciate the main body of the team must stay here until Brazil has left, but I am catching the first express to Geneva. There I shall board another express for the Valais.'

'You should wait.' Tweed told her. 'It's just possible I may be able to persuade Brazil to abandon this project he's planning, whatever it may be. Then the danger has gone away.'

'I'm still catching the Geneva express.' Paula said as she went towards the door.

'I said wait.' Tweed ordered.

'In that case I'm handing in my resignation to you now.'

She had her grip on the door handle when Tweed replied in the same quiet tone.

'Your resignation is not accepted.'

Newman jumped up, accompanied Paula to her room. She turned to him when they were both inside.

'I have to pack.'

'I know.' said Newman and grinned. 'I gave Philip a little extra armament. I'd like you to be equipped with the same. Back in no time. I'll rap on your door with my usual tattoo.'

'It's getting a bit out of date, that tattoo. You should invent a new one.' Paula commented with a smile.

He returned very quickly as she was finishing packing her case. From a small canvas holdall he produced a cardboard carton wrapped in blue ribbon and with the word Dumbo on the outside. He handed it to her.

'What in Heaven's name is that, Bob?'

'A present for the nephew you don't have. Actually you will find a tear-gas pistol inside, spare shells, smoke bombs – and be careful with these. They're stun grenades. You've handled them before.'

'No need for you to send Marler and Co. after me.' she joked.

He waited until she had concealed the 'presents' he had given her. She put on her coat and gloves, smiled at Newman.

'Carry your bag, lady?' he said.

'I'd be grateful, porter. You may even get a tip.'

Arriving at the main station, Newman checked the departure board, saw there was an express leaving for Geneva in five minutes. He told her to find a compartment and rushed to get her a first-class ticket. She was leaning out of the window when he ran onto the platform, handed her the ticket. She leaned further out, kissed him on the cheek.

'That's your tip.'

The express began to move out and she waved to him from the window. He stood watching its last coach until it disappeared round a bend.

28

Newman was giving last-minute instructions in Marler's room at the Gotthard when the phone rang. He pursed his lips at the interruption, gazing round at Butler and Nield as Marler answered the phone.

'Who is it?' he asked abruptly.

'Mr Marler, I'm sorry to bother you.' the operator began, 'but I have a woman on the line who wishes to speak to Mr Robert Newman if he is there.'

'What made you call me?' demanded Marler.

'When Mr Newman came in I asked if I could help. I was on reception for a few minutes while my stand-in took over. I recognized Mr Newman from pictures I've seen of him in the papers in the past. I did not tell the caller he was here. I merely said I would enquire.'

'But who is on the line?' Marler asked brusquely.

'A Miss Eve Warner

'Hold on. I'll be back in a moment.'

'You won't believe this.' he said to Newman. 'On the line waiting to speak to you is Eve Warner.'

'How the hell does she know I'm here?' Newman thought for a moment. 'Well, she does – and I'd better find out how she knows that.'

'Where are you speaking from?' were Newman's first words.

'A call box in Bahnhofstrasse.'

'So what made you think I might be found here? Tell me or I'll put the phone down.'

'Don't be like that, Bob,' she coaxed. 'I'll be honest. I saw you coming out of the Gotthard earlier today. I have information you need urgently.'

'How much?' Newman enquired cynically.

'That's not nice. Not nice at all. I'm not asking for money. This time.'

'Then why are you calling? What information?'

'Tweed's life is in danger. I overheard Craig saying he was covering Bahnhofstrasse and the platz with his troops ready for when Brazil meets Tweed at the Schweizerhof.'

'Did Craig say the target was Tweed?'

'Well…' A pause. 'Actually, no. I think he may have plans to kill you.'

'Thanks for the information.'

'I may call again if I have more information. So.' she ended, 'you see you have misjudged me. Not everyone in this world is interested only in money…'

Newman put down the phone, reported what she'd said to the others. Marler lit a king-size, took a puff.

'Don't understand what she's up to. From what you've said about her, Bob, she's on the make. All of the time.'

'I still think she is. Maybe this was her opening shot.'

He clapped his hands. 'We can't waste any more time on her. Now, is everyone clear as to the positions they're going to take up in Bahnhofplatz while Tweed is holding this crazy meeting with Brazil?'

'I'm clear.' said Butler, 'and I'll have smoke bombs ready.'

'I'm clear, too.' said Meld. 'And I also have my smoke bombs. Why are we using those – if we have to?'

'Because if there's shooting, corpses in the street, Chief of Police Arthur Beck will be in deep trouble. So shall we.' He checked his watch.

'Not long now.' Marler remarked. 'Zero hour draws nigh…'

Eve emerged from the call box in a furious mood -furious with Newman. The very idea that all she was interested in was money! It was insulting. Still, the important thing was she had established contact with him.

She was so annoyed she failed to notice a man inside a doorway who had been watching her. Not that she would probably have observed him anyway. Gustav, who had followed her from the hotel, was an expert shadow.

An attractive woman glanced into the doorway, looked away quickly when she saw him. He scowled. He knew why she had averted her gaze. Gustav's face was not a pretty picture. His long nose had been broken in a fight, which gave it a hooked appearance. His mouth was thin, cruel. He was coming to dislike women, except for one purpose.

What was Eve up to? he wondered. Something underhand – or else why should she go out to a call box to phone someone when she could have used the phone in her room? He'd report what had happened to Brazil when the chance arose. Not to Craig – who would simply take all the credit, would probably say he'd ordered Gustav to keep an eye on Eve.

As Eve drew near the Baur-en-Ville she saw the limo with the amber-tinted windows glide to the kerb. She stopped, pretended to gaze into a shop window. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Brazil emerge from the rear, opening the door himself. He ran into the hotel, checking his watch as he moved swiftly.

Eve waited until Jose had driven away the limo to park it and hurried into the hotel and up to her room. It was, fortunately, on the same floor as Brazil's suite. Inside her room, she locked the door, opened a hanging cupboard, knelt down, and felt along her shoes scattered across the floor. She brought out the stethoscope she had purchased in a Zurich shop, tucked it inside her shoulder bag.

Returning to the corridor, she walked quietly to the door leading into Brazil's living room. She had her excuse ready as she opened it, peered inside. Empty. Closing the door after entering, she ran lightly over the deep-pile carpet, opened a cabinet, took out a bottle of vodka, poured herself a glass and left it on a table near the two closed sliding doors leading into the meeting room with a long table.