Rhinoceros tac-18

by Colin Forbes

  '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.

  Wearing flying kit, including flying boots, clad in a helmet, tufts of blue rinse hair protruding, and her huge glasses, she strode briskly into the room, very erect and purposeful. She greeted Paula, accepted Tweed's offer of coffee from a pot just delivered, perched herself on the arm of a chair.

  'I had the devil of a job finding you. I tried the Tonderhus Hotel first

  'You didn't ask for us by name?' Tweed queried.

  'Heavens, no. I just checked the vehicles in the car park, looking for a blue stretch Mercedes. I found it here.'

  'Do you mind if I ask how you knew we were travelling in that car?' Tweed enquired gently as he handed her a cup of coffee.

  'I don't mind at all. Right from the moment you left the Four Seasons in Hamburg we knew you had switched from your cream model to the blue one.'

  'You said "we" – may I ask who "we" is?'

  'Oh, that.' She smiled ruefully, swinging one leather-clad leg. 'I was once married, then had to divorce him when I found I was one of a trio. So I often use "we" -going back to the old days.'

  'And
how on earth did you find us in Tender?'

  'We'd picked you up again in Flensburg and I tried to follow you from there – Flensburg also has an airfield. I lost you, saw you again heading for Denmark, then you gave me the slip again. So I've been flying all over Jutland until I spotted you heading for Tonder.' She grinned. 'You do move about. This coffee is a life-saver.'

  'So what can we do for you?'

  'Before I come to that I'd better warn you there are some grim-looking villains in Tonder. I saw two in a bar. Certainly not Danes. I saw them in Hamburg late in the evening after I'd left you to buy something at a department store. If they were there and now they're here – just as you are – I don't think you want to go wandering round late at night.'

  'Thanks for the warning.'

  'And you should know that all hell is about to break loose – all over the West. I think you might be the only man who can help to stop it.'

  'Why,' interjected Paula, 'do you think Tweed is the man?'

  'Because we have a vast network of contacts and we have some idea of Herr Tweed's track record. How did we build up this network?' She leaned back and smiled. 'Money talks – but payment of money to the right people gets them talking. If I may say so, we also know that Herr Tweed is a man of complete integrity. Not a lot of that about these days.'

  Paula was reeling. She was amazed at Mrs France's command of English – so different from the halting way she had spoken back in Hamburg, but with a foreign accent.

  'What would you advise us to do?' she asked.

  'Stay here for the night. Then in the morning start driving to Travemiinde.' She looked at Tweed. 'Any idea where that is?'

  'On the Baltic coast, just east of Liibeck. I have been to both places.'

  'It's a bit of a drive from here, but the way you moved from Flensburg I know you'll make it. Just watch out for attacks the whole of the way. I have no doubt Herr Tweed and his team – including your good self – can cope with any trouble.'

  'When do you want us to arrive there?' Paula asked.

  'Oh, the late afternoon, I would suggest.' She smiled again. 'In any case, considering the distance, it will probably be late afternoon when you do reach the waterfront.'

  'Why do we go to the waterfront?' Tweed asked.

  'I was just coming to that. There is a section of the promenade called Vorderreihe alongside the river Trave. It is only a short walk towards the Ostsee from the police station. Just behind it is a big restaurant with a large open area with tables outside under a canopy. When you get there you sit at a table under the canopy near the promenade. Someone will meet you.'

  'Who?' Tweed for the first time became aggressive. 'We are not going all that way without knowing who to expect. You?'

  'No. It will be Herr Rondel – whom you have already met.'

  'And,' Tweed continued in the same manner, 'what is all this about? What is going on? I need to know what you know.'

  'Oh. They said you were tough.' She sat in the chair. 'There is the most dangerous conspiracy since the Second World War being planned – by powerful politicians, including one from your country. At this moment they are meeting secretly on the island of Sylt. They have to be stopped, to be killed. Before it is too late. Please do not tell the partners I have revealed this to you.'

  'I knew it already.'

  'I should gave guessed.'

  'You are Milo's chief accountant? I see. I had to be sure. That is your main role in life?'

  'Not quite.' She drank from the fresh cup of coffee Tweed had poured for her. 'I am a flier, as you now know. But also I am an expert on the Internet. That is important.'

  'So,' Tweed said with a smile, 'you are aware that terrorists are using the Internet to send coded messages to trained terrorists all over the world – instructing them where and when to be ready to launch a terrible series of riots?'

  'Oh.' Mrs France looked surprised. 'So you know about that.'

  'I know a lot more than you probably think I do, Mrs France.'

  'Please call me Gina.'

  'Well, Gina, is Danzer reliable, trustworthy?'

  'Danzer?'

  'Oh, come off it, Gina. We're both coming out into the open with each other,' Tweed snapped. 'Now, is Danzer reliable?'

  'Totally, Mr Tweed. Milo trusts him completely to succeed in any mission he is sent on.'

  'And he's on a mission now. Does he speak English?'

  'Perfectly. He spent several years in London training to take his engineering degree.'

  'It's your own fault I have to ask you,' he said with a smile. 'When you came to see us at the Four Seasons in Hamburg you went out of your way to tell us a lot about Danzer. I couldn't be sure whether you were warning us against him, or passing on information.'

  'It was the latter. At that stage I was nervous about saying too much to you. I will tell him when I get back about our conversation – but only with your permission.'

  'Tell him.'

  She stood up, after looking at her watch, gave Paula a great big smile.

  'I have enjoyed being with you both. I must go now to the airfield and fly back.'

  'You can't take off in the dark from that airfield,' protested Tweed who had also stood up.

  'Yes, I can. It has lights which can be switched on from inside the hut. Lights which illuminate the landing strip.'

  'You're not going to the airfield by yourself at night. Give me a minute…'

  He went to the phone, called Newman's room, asked if he was still dressed, then told him to come over. He turned round.

  'Newman is coming. He will escort you to the airfield, drive you there. He is armed. You will be safe.'

  'Oh, you are so kind, so thoughtful… But I insist on going by myself. I am an independent person.'

  She ran to him, kissed him on both cheeks. There were tears in her yellowish eyes. She took out a handkerchief, dabbed under her monstrous glasses.

  'Do excuse me. Sometimes I get so emotional.'

  'We all do,' said Paula with a smile.

  Newman arrived and Tweed explained the position, that as Mrs France had been so determined to leave by herself, he had felt it best to accede to her request.

  Oskar walked into the bar in Tender where Barton and Panko sat drinking. As he sat down he knocked over Barton's glass of beer. An ugly look came over Barton's face.

  'Now you can damned well buy me an other.' 'Keep your voice down,' Oskar said calmly. 'You have been drinking in here instead of getting some sleep so you are fresh for tomorrow. It would be so easy to replace you. If they ever found it} your body would be floating in the sea.'

  Barton was afraid of very little. But as Oskar stared at him with his bulging eyes his face lost colour.

  'We haven't been here long…' he began.

  'You should never have touched alcohol. You will both now come back with me to the hotel and go to bed. I have some instructions to give you while we walk back.'

  He looked up as a waitress appeared and began to wipe up the spilt beer. Oskar's whole personality changed as he looked at her with a smile and gave her a Danish banknote.

  She stared at it in disbelief, looked at Oskar.

  'That is too much for the beer,' she said.

  'No, it is not. It includes your tip.'

  'That is so generous. I do thank you.'

  He had continued gazing at her and she gave him a great big smile. Quite a lot of women liked Oskar. Barton cautiously made his comment when they were walking back along the street.

  'That was a huge tip.'

  'So everyone is "happy – and we do not get talked about. Now tomorrow you follow the blue Mercedes Tweed and his team will drive off from here in.' He gave them the registration number. 'While you were getting sozzled I have been touring the car parks of hotels in this place. They are staying at Hostrups Hotel.'

  'We go there now,' said Barton, eager to make up for his mistake. 'We kill them while they sleep?'

  Panko was grinning at the prospect. He already had taken out
his knife.

  'Put that toothpick away, idiot,' stormed Oskar. 'You come with me to the Tonderhus, go to bed. Get up early in the morning. I will drive you to the airfield. There you'll hide until I contact you by mobile phone to warn you they are leaving. You then follow them in your aircraft, however far they go. You keep in touch with me, using your mobile, tell me where they have gone to. Report to me constantly, then I can follow them in my car. We take the decision how to deal with them when they reach their destination. Don't fly too close to their car. Keep your distance. Use your binoculars, Panko. I have no more to say to you.'

  'What time do we have breakfast?' Barton asked.

  'At six a.m. If they don't serve it at that hour then you go hungry. Might help to keep your wits about you.'

  As soon as Newman had departed with Mrs France, Paula tackled Tweed head on. Her way of speaking was emphatic.

  'I don't understand what you think you're doing. You threw security and secrecy to the wind when you were talking to Mrs France. You gave her details of the whole conspiracy we have spent time, taken so many risks, to learn about. I think, if you don't mind my saying so, that you've made the one big mistake of your whole career.'

  'Really, you think that?' Seated on a couch with a fresh cup of coffee in his hand, Tweed was amused. 'You do, of course,' he said casually, 'have a right to your own opinion.'

  'You're not taking me seriously.' She stamped her foot. 'All our lives are at stake.'

  'I would agree there.'

  'Then why, in heaven's name, did you do it?' she demanded.

  'Because at long last I have sorted out the negative destructive forces from the positive ones who are on our side, invisible though they may have been so far.'