Rhinoceros

'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 the 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.