This United State

by Colin Forbes

  Paula and Newman stared across the dining room. Standing in the entrance, looking round the room, dressed in a dove-grey two-piece suit, was Denise Chatel. She was clutching a large handbag. After swiftly checking out who was having breakfast she vanished.

  35

  Newman was getting up from the table when Tweed glanced across at Ronstadt. It seemed obvious he hadn't seen Denise. Crouched over a mobile phone, he had his head down, concentrating on his conversation.

  'I'm going after her,' said Newman.

  'Good idea,' said Tweed.

  He doubted whether Newman had heard him. Without appearing to hurry, he was moving at speed out of the restaurant. He found no trace of Sharon outside. She must have gone straight up to her room. He saw Denise at the garderobe, collecting her coat. He went over in time to help her on with it. She nearly jumped out of her skin until she saw who it was. She moved towards the exit and Newman walked alongside her.

  'Someone in the restaurant you didn't like the look of?' he asked cheerfully.

  'Yes.'

  'Ronstadt? Osborne?'

  'I don't want to talk about it.'

  'But you do want breakfast. We can find a café outside. Plenty of them in Freiburg.'

  'I'm ravenous, Bob.'

  They were already outside in the street. She was becoming more confident about him, he sensed. They turned left and, walking fast, she almost slipped on a stretch of ice. He grasped hold of her, saved her from falling.

  'Loop you arm through mine,' he said firmly.

  She did so. She was trembling, and not with the cold. She was wearing a thick overcoat with a high collar. He smiled at her as they continued walking.

  'People will start talking if they see us like this.' 'That's not funny.'

  'Just a joke.'

  'Bob.' She looked at him. 'You haven't got a coat and it's freezing. Should we go back so you can get one?' she suggested without any enthusiasm.

  'The cold doesn't worry me. It's the great heat — with humidity — which I find trying.'

  He was telling the truth. In this respect he was like Tweed, who also could stand any amount of cold, but he had to push himself hard in hot, humid weather. They arrived outside a large café-cum-restaurant. Denise tugged at his arm.

  'Let's check out this place. I want to get you inside into some warmth.'

  It was an old place, with huge dark wooden beams across the ceiling. There were several couples inside, dressed like locals. Denise nodded, guided him inside, made for a remote table near the back. He helped her off with her coat and felt the warmth on his face and bare hands. They sat facing each other.

  'When did you last eat?' he asked, picking up the menu.

  'I had a snack yesterday afternoon in my room at the Three Kings.'

  'Nothing since? I see. How about a whopping great omelette?'

  'Sounds wonderful. Mushroom, if they've got it. Otherwise plain would do fine. And a lot of coffee, with milk.'

  The waitress, with a checked blouse and a dark skirt, appeared. He ordered a large omelette for Denise, a small one for himself. He had already had breakfast but he thought it would make her feel more comfortable if he ate with her. He didn't look at her. Instead he looked round the restaurant.

  'Is Alec with you?' she asked suddenly.

  'Alec?'

  'Marler.'

  'Of course. I was dreaming. He's in the city, but he's some way off. I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me.'

  'I'm sorry, Bob. I didn't mean it like that. I feel perfectly comfortable with you.'

  'Thank you. Good...'

  He said no more until they were served. Then he waited until she had eaten every scrap of her huge omelette, plus quite a lot of bread, drinking her milky coffee between bites. Her face had been ashen, but now her high colour had returned. She leant back in her chair, laid a hand on her tummy.

  'Not very elegant, but I do feel better.'

  'You drove here from Basel?'

  'Yes, I did. It was very tiring. When I appeared in the restaurant I registered, had my bag taken up to a room, was given my key.'

  She produced it from her handbag. Holding it, she let him read the number, then dropped it back into her handbag. He asked her if she'd mind if he smoked one cigarette.

  'Not if you give me one too. Thank you. Did Alec tell you what I'd told him? About my parents in the States?' 'Yes, he did.'

  'You probably wonder what I've been doing. First I disappear, then I reappear.'

  'Tell me only if you want to.'

  'I didn't tell Marler. I kept it as a secret from everyone. I felt I didn't know who I could trust. I recently hired another top private investigator in Virginia to check out my parents' so-called accident at that lonely bridge. A man called Walt Banker. He's visited that retired sheriff, Jim Briscoe, the man who took me to the site of the tragedy, then was retired quickly. Banker told me Briscoe has changed his story, says it was an accident. Banker was sure he was lying. Somehow he checked his balance at the local bank. Recently he paid in fifty thousand dollars. My investigator said it had to be a bribe paid to Briscoe, which is why he now says it was an accident.'

  'Did this Banker go back to see Briscoe to ask him about this big sum of money?'

  'Yes, he said he did. Briscoe hit the roof. Said it was a legacy from an uncle. Banker asked for the uncle's name. Briscoe flew into a rage, threw him out. A couple of days later Banker was nearly killed. A car tried to run him down. Banker got the registration number of the car, checked it out.' She paused. 'He found it had been hired. In Washington.'

  'Interesting. Very. And what are you going to do now? Go back to the hotel?'

  'I'm scared, Bob. What do I tell Sharon? After I left the Three Kings I took a room in a small hotel so I could phone the investigator safely. She'll go stark raving mad if I tell her. I'll be fired and. I'll never get another job. She pays me very well.'

  'Why wouldn't you get another job? There must be plenty available in Washington for someone with your experience.'

  'Because it will be passed down the grapevine. I'll be blacklisted. That's how it works in Washington.'

  'Just exactly how does it work in Washington?' Newman asked.

  'Employers at Sharon's top level form a kind of club. They tell each other about their employees. You get blacklisted, and every door is closed to you.'

  'Really. And Sharon would blow the whistle on you?' 'I know she would.'

  'Then here's what you tell her.' Newman drank more coffee while he worked it out, checking to make sure it was watertight. 'You went out for a walk in the evening - to freshen up for more work. You were followed by a tall thin man with a thin bony face. Can you remember that?'

  'Yes, he doesn't sound very nice.'

  'He isn't. He exists. Sharon may well have caught sight of him back at the Embassy in London. The tall thin man was very close to you - he wore a black overcoat - when a cruising police car approached. You crossed the street, hurried back to the hotel. You were just going inside when you saw the same man coming towards you from the opposite direction. You rushed up to your room, packed, asked the doorman to bring your car. Then you drove off, stayed for a few hours at the small hotel in Basel, the one where you did stay. When you'd recovered you drove to the Colombi. Have you got that?'

  'Every word. I was imagining it happening while you were talking. Sharon may start questioning me. She's like that.'

  'Just stick to the same story. Don't embroider. No more details If necessary blow your top, tell her you were scared out of your wits. Tell her you're still thinking of phoning the police in Basel to report the incident.'

  'It might work,' Denise said.

  'It will work. Now go back to the Colombi on your own. When you arrive ask for Sharon's room number. Find her at once.'

  I'm very grateful to you, Bob..

  'Just go. Now.'

  When he was alone Newman drank more coffee. He decided that he would try and contact Marler. The intense cold hit him when he left the
café. Walking a short distance, he found a smart-looking men's clothier. Going inside, he bought a German coat, a pair of gloves. Resuming his walk, he passed locals muffled up, treading warily on the slippery pavements. Overhead a low grey bank of cloud pressed down on the city like a lid. He stopped to study a big map of Freiburg, located Konvikstrasse near the Münster.

  Threading his way through a network of alleys, he was guided by the looming spire of the Münster. More people were about as he entered Mi'Every word. I was imagining it happening while you were talking. Sharon may start questioning me. She's like that.'

  'Just stick to the same story. Don't embroider. No more details If necessary blow your top, tell her you were scared out of your wits. Tell her you're still thinking of phoning the police in Basel to report the incident.'

  'It might work,' Denise said.

  'It will work. Now go back to the Colombi on your own. When you arrive ask for Sharon's room number. Find her at once.'

  I'm very grateful to you, Bob...'

  'Just go. Now.'

  When he was alone Newman drank more coffee. He decided that he would try and contact Marler. The intense cold hit him when he left the café. Walking a short distance, he found a smart-looking men's clothier. Going inside, he bought a German coat, a pair of gloves. Resuming his walk, he passed locals muffled up, treading warily on the slippery pavements. Overhead a low grey bank of cloud pressed down on the city like a lid. He stopped to study a big map of Freiburg, located Konvikstrasse near the Münster.

  Threading his way through a network of alleys, he was guided by the looming spire of the Münster. More people were about as he entered Münsterplatz. Hurrying, to get out of the cold, a few bumped into him. Apologizing, they hastened on. Then he saw Marler. Newman stiffened. Locals pushed past Marler, who was walking slowly. Behind him a hatless man in a black coat was only three people away from Marler's back.

  Newman himself began hurrying, bumping into people. Then he stopped at the edge of the crowd. Marler had also stopped, glancing over his shoulder. The hatless man in a black coat had turned away, was hustling off towards the edge of the square. Newman saw him enter a narrow alley, stop, then he turned round and waited as though observing Marler.

  Newman had had a better look at him in profile. Tall, thin with a hard bony face. It was the man he had described to Denise. Vernon Kolkowski, the man Keith Kent had seen with Ronstadt inside the Zürcher Kredit in Basel. Kent's description fitted perfectly. Newman joined Marler.

  'You had company.'

  'Mornin' to you, Bob,' Marler drawled. 'And I knew I had company. He's standing in an alley leading to the Schwarzwälder Hof, watching me - while I watch some: thing else.'

  'Which is?'

  'Look across the square. Three black Audis parked close together. Four of Ronstadt's men getting into one car.'

  'They're on the move...'

  'Are they? Where are the rest of them? Eight more men - seven, now. I had an argument with one of them early this morning. He won't be arguing with anyone else ever again. There they go, driving off.'

  'Did they have luggage?'

  'Yes, each man carried a bag.'

  'Then we'd better break all records getting to the Colombi so we can warn Tweed. Won't take us long to get there.'

  'My idea too!'

  In his room at the Colombi Jake Ronstadt was sprawled along an expensively upholstered couch. He had his back against one arm, his body and legs stretched out. He hadn't bothered to take off his boots, which rested on a decorated cushion. His mobile phone had started buzzing

  'Yeah?'

  'Vernon here. It worked like a dream.'

  'Get your head screwed on, Vernon. I do like specifics.'

  'Your plan. The guy who went out early this morning — and Bernie follows him — was eating a late breakfast. I sent out four of my guys with bags through the restaurant. The guy leaves the rest of his breakfast, follows my four to their Audi. Another guy — one of them — joins him. They stand in the square, watch the Audi take off, then they move like hell away from the square. Could they be comin' to your place?'

  'Of course they are, Brainless.'

  'So I tells the six still here to pack and we all move. off with Brad in the Audi that's just left?'

  'Brainless, you stay exactly where you are until you hear from me. Are you listenin' with both your thick ears?' Ronstadt snarled.

  'Sure, Chief.'

  'When I say you stays there you all stays in your rooms. Got it?'

  'Sure, Chief.'

  'Miracles sometimes happen. Brad and his three men don't go to the base. They waits at the point I tells you about earlier.'

  'Brad knows. I marked the place on a map, the place you described to me. Brad said looks like they's gonna have-to drive up a bloody mountain,' Vernon warned.

  'That's his problem. They got food and drink? They's gonna have to wait a long time. Till after dark. Till a coupla white Audis follow me along that road into Höllental. Did Brad get the crowbars?'

  'Sure, Chief. Sent him out early this mornin' and he finds a car spares shop. He buys three crowbars, has 'em well wrapped, and he locks them in the Audi. He said it sounds like a long wait and a lot of hard work diggin' out boulders. If there are any.'

  'There are. I noticed them last time I visited the base when I flew over earlier in the year. Can't start an avalanche without a bit of work. Go back to your room, Brainless.'

  'That's where I am now.'

  'Get some sleep, if you want to. Keep the phone close to your thick ear. Get the kitchen there to make up food packs for all of you. With drink,' Ronstadt demanded.

  'Sure, Chief.'

  'Another miracle. You musta eaten a lotta fish. Good for the brain. Eat a whole lot more...'

  Ronstadt cut the connection. He stretched out a bit further on the couch. This was an unusual experience. Enjoying a bit of comfort. He grinned savagely and said the words aloud.

  'Good place for you to end your career, Tweed. In the dark of the Black Forest.'

  36

  'No! Definitely not!' said Tweed.

  Ten minutes earlier he had listened in silence while Newman and Marler told him what they had seen close to the Minster. In his room, when they had arrived, were also Paula and Keith Kent. Newman let Marler speak first. Then he reported what Denise Chatel had told him when they'd breakfasted together in the café further into Freiburg. Tweed stood as he listened, close to a window with hands clasped behind his back, his eyes fixed on whichever man was speaking. It was after Newman made a suggestion that Tweed spoke so emphatically.

  'So,' Newman had remarked, 'we think the best thing is to leave here now, follow that Audi — I'm sure we can catch them up on the main route into Höllental.'

  'What's your objective?' Newman persisted in response to Tweed's vehement rejection. 'Or perhaps I should say objection? They have made a fatal mistake. They've split their forces. We can destroy them piecemeal.'

  'My main objective is to destroy their base.' Tweed took from his pocket an envelope, extracted the two fake British banknotes they had obtained in St Ursanne. 'I'm convinced the Americans have devised a deadly plan to destabilize Britain.'

  'I don't see their significance,' said Paula.

  'Oh, you will, you will. Marler, you've just told me about how you dealt with Bernie Warner, whoever he was. Did you notice whether the tips of his fingers were dirty?'

  'Yes, I did. At the time I didn't think anything of it. They were stained black.'

  'Printing ink,' said Tweed. 'You probably exterminated one of Ronstadt's key men.' His voice took on a grimmer note. 'But we must destroy that base. And the only man who'll lead us to it is Ronstadt. So we have to wait until he leaves here on his way to Höllental. Have you a good supply of explosives, Marler?'

  'Enough to blow half Freiburg sky high.'

  'Good'

  'What Bob is worried about,' Marler explained, 'is that the Audi which has left with four men inside could be setting up an ambush.
'

  'I'm sure it is,' Tweed agreed equably. 'I'm sure you can deal with that, Marler, while we keep after Ronstadt.'

  'They may be using something like bazookas,' Paula warned. 'You know what the Americans are — they think anything big is better, whether it's a battleship or a weapon operated by one man.'

  'We do have smoke bombs, a lot of them,' Marler reminded her. 'A man using a bazooka has to see his target. Smoke bombs land all round him. He's in a fog. Target disappears. I'll give you a few more.'

  'Another point,' Newman pressed, 'is how can we be sure we'll know when Ronstadt is leaving?'

  'I've attended to that,' Tweed told him. 'I phoned Kuhlmann, head of the Federal Kriminalpolizei in Wiesbaden, as you know. Also a close friend. He has phoned the manager here, saying he is tracking terrorists. He's asked the manager to inform me of any sign that Ronstadt is leaving.'

  'Point covered, then.'

  'Reverting to that intriguing story Denise Chatel told you: if it's true, wouldn't it be strange if the key to the momentous events we're caught up in lies in the car accident, so called, which killed both her parents in Virginia?'

  'It would be very strange,' Newman agreed. 'But I don't see how.'

  'It's just a glimmer of an idea which flashed into my mind as I listened to you. And we still don't know who the mysterious Charlie is. Charlie's identity is possibly the real key.'

  A little later Tweed told Marler to go back to the Schwarzwälder Hof and to keep him informed. He then looked round at the others and said he wanted a private meeting with someone, so would they mind leaving him until he phoned them in their rooms? As soon as he was alone he picked up the phone and asked Guy Strange- ways to come and see him for a chat. While he waited Tweed took out a recording device, tested it to make sure it was in working order.

  'Guy, do sit down. Would you like some coffee?'

  'No, thank you. Drank too much of it already at breakfast.'

  'You don't look your normal self, you know.'

  Strangeways had seated himself in an armchair, slumped against the back. Tweed sat in a chair opposite him with a small table between them. His guest showed every sign of nervous exhaustion. He kept pulling at his moustache, staring at Tweed. When he did speak his voice almost quivered.