'Don't see how it all fits in,' said Nield.
'It will. Now I'm going to read extracts from the sheet Gavin Thunder lost from his executive case. It's clear, it's methodical. Gavin has a first-rate brain, unfortunately.' Tweed took the typed sheet from his pocket, unfolded it. 'One, to create iron governments in our countries there must be chaos on such a scale the people will accept any system which brings back peace. That has been arranged – the imminent arrival of chaos everywhere. Two, each country must be divided into large military areas, each area controlled by a strong Governor. Three, any opposition must be ruthlessly and immediately crushed. Special prisons will be established on remote islands off the mainland. In the case of Britain an Enabling Act will be rushed through Parliament overnight, giving the new Government supreme powers. The Governors of the six military areas in Britain will be commanded by a Supreme Governor, Brigadier Bernard, Lord Barford. That's it,' he concluded.
'My God!' gasped Newman. 'It's a dictatorship backed up by martial law. And Barford's in the conspiracy.'
'Now you see how serious the situation is,' Tweed replied. 'I hope you noticed the use of the word "imminent" – so we have very little time left.'
'I'm stunned,' said Paula. 'What next?'
'I am convinced there is another powerful force determined to counter this conspiracy. I expect to be contacted here by a representative from that force at any moment.'
'How will this other force know we are here on Tender, away from anywhere?' she wondered.
'Because they have known where we were most of the time. I did hear another light aircraft flying a long way behind us when we left the windmill. But we mustn't underestimate Gavin Thunder and his friends. Now, I want this village trawled for sight of the enemy while it's dark. Armed, we split up into three sections of two people. I will take Paula, Newman will accompany Marler, Butler will accompany Nield. We all go in different directions. We do not enter any hotel, bar or restaurant. Too risky. Lisa I will persuade to go to bed. She needs sleep. Any questions?'
There were no questions. Paula was staring at Tweed, impressed and a little taken aback by the forceful way he had spoken. It had created in her a feeling that they were on the eve of war.
The three pairs had left the hotel, strolling off in different directions. Tweed chose to walk up Sondergade, which he knew would lead them to the centre of the small town. Then he wandered into narrower side streets. At distant intervals they were illuminated by small lamps but between them were long areas of deep shadow. The side streets were cobbled. It was very silent and not another soul was to be seen.
'Tonder is so beautiful, the houses so quaint,' Paula observed.
Little more than cottages, the buildings were hunched together in terraces. Some had brick walls, some were covered with plaster, painted in different colours – ochre, pink, blue or yellow. Some houses had bay windows on the ground floor and above a window in a steep gable. The silence was total, with only the tread of their feet on the cobbles punctuating it.
'This is Dreamland,' Paula remarked. 'I really can't imagine any danger in a place like this.'
'You know me -I take every precaution. What happened on the autobahn on our way to Flensburg showed how determined the enemy is to wipe us out.'
'We're too far away from them. This is Denmark.'
They followed a complex route. Tweed had obtained a street map from the receptionist and carried it now in his head.
They were walking on through the maze and Paula felt relaxed. Not so Tweed, she noticed. The temperature had dropped and he had his right hand inside his coat pocket, gripping his Walther. Paula secretly thought he was overdoing it. They were approaching the edge of the town when Paula pointed ahead.
'Look. That big red building. It's the Tonderhus, the other hotel you mentioned.'
As they drew closer a tall, well-padded man, smoking a cigar and looking the other way, came out and paused under a lamp, rauia graooea noia or iweea at tne same moment he slipped an arm round her waist. They dragged each other into a side street.
'I don't believe it,' gasped Paula. 'That was Oskar Vemon.'
'It most certainly was. What were you saying earlier about feeling safe in Denmark?'
'How on earth can he have turned up here?'
As she spoke they were hurrying down the side street, then along into another which led away from the hotel. Paula was breathing heavily, almost in a state of shock.
'It must be a coincidence,' she said eventually.
'You know I don't believe in coincidences.'
'There must come a time,' she argued, 'when we do actually run into a coincidence.'
'And where Oskar is,' Tweed persisted, 'Barton and Panko may not be far away.'
'I wanted to shoot him,' she said wildly.
'No shooting here – if it can possibly be avoided. I think we'd better wend our way back to our hotel.'
'It's such a jewel of a little town,' she protested. 'Not for filthy villains like Oskar.'
'Keep moving – and keep alert. We're not too far from our hotel.'
They crossed the wide stream and the moon appeared. It was reflected in the water and Paula thought it was paradise – paradise lost because of the appearance of that fat pig of a killer. It would have looked so romantic, she thought wistfully. Yes, she could have shot the pig. They re-crossed the stream and were outside their hotel. Tweed hustled her inside. He ordered a brandy for Paula and a glass of wine for himself. They went up to his room where she flopped on a couch. Then she pressed her lips together, sat up straight, took a sip of her brandy.
'Sorry I lost my cool,' she said.
'You didn't. You reacted, grabbing me to get me under cover. Look at it this way – we saw him but he didn't see us.'
There was a tap on the door. Tweed had his Walther by his side when he unlocked and opened the door a fraction, then opened it wide. Newman came in with Marler. Both men looked very serious.
'We have bad news,' Tweed told them. 'We've just seen Oskar Vernon coming out of the Hotel Tonderhus.'
'We have our own…'
Newman broke off. He had just noticed Paula had lost some of her normal high colour. Paula looked up at him, smiled.
'Do go on with what you were saying.'
'All right. We have our own bad news. We spotted Barton and Panko drinking in a bar. They didn't see us.'
'What might be called the last straw,' Paula commented. 'On the other hand, isn't it fortunate we know they're in town?'
'So what do we do now?' Newman enquired.
'I'll tell you what you three do now,' Tweed said cheerfully. 'You all go to bed, get some sleep, then you get up in the morning and we'll have a big breakfast…'
Newman and Marler had left and Paula was just about to go to her room when the phone rang. It was the receptionist Tweed found himself speaking to.
'Who did you say is here and wishes to see me?' he asked.
Paula, intrigued, paused before opening the door to leave. Tweed was now asking the receptionist to send the visitor up, that he would meet her at the top of the stairs. He put the phone down, looked at Paula.
'You can stay while I see this lady, if you feel you can hold up.'
'I can hold up all night long if necessary. Who is it?'
'Mrs Gina France, the Zurcher Kredit accountant who came to see us at the Four Seasons. The lady you received that big bunch of hydrangeas from when we were leaving Rondel's mansion on the way to Blankenese. I'm wondering if the representative I said might contact us has arrived.'
'Could be a representative of the enemy,' Paula warned.
CHAPTER 33
Paula stared in disbelief as Tweed ushered their visitor into the room. She had been expecting a woman waving her arms about, amiable and fuddled. Instead she saw a hardly recognizable Mrs France.