By Stealth tac-9

by Colin Forbes

  `I'm taking Marler straight along to ballistics. Back in a few minutes. You've complete privacy for your call – that instrument isn't linked to a recorder. Good luck…'

  He left with Marler, who was carrying the hold-all containing the Armalite. Kuhlmann never wastes a minute, Tweed thought, as he settled himself in a chair. Taking out a notebook, he checked Nielsen's number, pressed the red button, and dialled. Using the Dane's private number, he got straight through.

  `Where are you calling from, you old scoundrel?' Nielsen greeted him jovially.

  `Hamburg. Police HQ. On scrambler. Are you?' `Always on this number. You usually bring trouble. Tell me the worst.'

  `First, can you put someone to watch Kastrup Airport round the clock. For the arrival of a Lear jet. I have details here…' He checked what Marler had written down in his notebook, relayed them to Nielsen. 'And if it does land I think later it will go elsewhere. Vital I know where.'

  `So we obtain the pilot's flight plan. Without letting him know he's under surveillance,' Nielsen promised in his precise manner. 'How do I get the data back to you?'

  `Via your old friend, Chief Inspector Kuhlmann, here at Berliner Tor. In an emergency – if Otto isn't available – try and contact me at the Four Seasons Hotel, Room 311.'

  `All clear so far. You wouldn't like to give me a hint as to what this is about? Even a hint?'

  `Haven't finished. The danger zone is Jutland. What's the weather like?'

  `In Jutland? Forecast of heavy fog along the whole of the west coat. Can you pinpoint the area?'

  `Somewhere south of Esbjerg – between there and the German frontier. Probably on a lonely stretch of the coast.'

  `Very dense fog there,' Nielsen warned. 'No sign of it shifting.'

  `I have a big favour to ask you.'

  `Here it comes. Unorthodox and illegal. Go ahead.' Tweed thanked God that the Dane was always so cooperative. But would he wear this one!

  `I may want to use an SAS team in the area. Are you still there, Henrik?'

  There was a pause as though Henrik Nielsen was recovering from a state of shock. He cleared his throat.

  `You don't ask for much, do you? I'll have to contact a Minister.'

  `Do so. Give me his name. And I'll get our PM to talk to him.'

  `As high-level as that?' Nielsen sounded impressed. 'In that case leave it to me. We are both in NATO, after all.'

  `Exactly. But I will see you first – in Copenhagen. And soon. Take care…'

  Tweed had hardly put down the phone when it rang. A girl operator informed him a Mr Robert Newman was on the line. Tweed asked her to put him through.

  `I'm calling from a public phone box,' Newman opened, talking rapidly. 'I thought you ought to know that the tribe is here in force – Messrs Fanshawe and Burgoyne, with their women. Also – wait for it – Dr Wand, staying at the Four Seasons…'

  He described tersely his encounter with Wand and Jules Starmberg on the staircase. Tweed thanked him for the information, adding he was not too surprised and would be back at the Four Seasons shortly.

  As he put down the phone for the second time Kuhlmann came into the room. He was carrying a tray with coffee and a selection of sandwich rolls.

  `I have news for you,' the German said as he sat opposite Tweed. 'There was a patrol car at the airport. Luckily one of the men was a sergeant I know – and a friend of the airport security officer. He radioed back just two minutes ago. About that Lear jet.'

  `Any positive data?'

  `Yes. The machine is being kept on stand-by twenty- four hours a day – with a three-crew roster. A flight plan has been filed. For Copenhagen.'

  Tweed, suddenly realizing he was ravenous, had sunk his teeth into a ham roll. He nodded, swallowed, then told the police chief about his conversation with Henrik Nielsen. He went on to relay Newman's account of his confrontation with Jules Starmberg and asked if the name rang any bells.

  `Deafening cathedral bells,' Kuhlmann replied. 'So Jules Starmberg is back in Hamburg. A Luxemburger and a very ugly piece of work. His wife was battered brutally to death in an apartment at Altona two years ago. Starmberg is the only man I never broke under interrogation. That is, a man I knew was guilty of a hideous crime.'

  `What went wrong?'

  `An unbreakable alibi for the time of the murder. He was supposed to be drinking in a bar on the waterfront at the relevant time. Three of his pals swore he was there.' Kuhlmann looked grim. 'But my main problem was Starmberg refused to answer one single question. He remained silent during the whole interrogation. His crook of a lawyer told me about the alibi. Starmberg is a man of teak.'

  `That's how he struck me when I met him briefly in Brussels. He's now staying at the Four Seasons with Dr Wand.'

  `In that case Dr Wand keeps very bad company.'

  `That does not surprise me,' Tweed commented, drinking some coffee, then attacking another roll.

  `I have more news for you,' Kuhlmann continued. 'In the morning the river police are using a barge equipped with lifting tackle to hoist up the remains of the Holsten V. Westerndorf is calling for you at the hotel tomorrow morning at nine o'clock to take you to Blankenese. If that is convenient.'

  `I'll make it convenient. I want to see the state of the vessel. You're moving very fast, Otto.'

  `I was just about to say that you are-'

  Kuhlmann broke off as the phone started ringing. Raising his thick eyebrows, he answered. Listening, Tweed ate another roll. Paula opened the door, said she was going back to the hotel in a police car, waved to Tweed as she left.

  Kuhlmann put down the phone, put his large hand to his head in mock amazement.

  `That I have never known before. Normally I wait hours – days – while a pathologist takes his time. He has just made a cursory examination of the seaman's corpse. Well, now we know where he came from – and we don't.'

  `What does that mean?' Tweed enquired.

  `The fillings in the teeth. No dentist in Western Europe attended to him. He comes from the East. How far east? I asked. You know what he said? Maybe from Bulgaria, maybe from Romania, maybe from one of the old Soviet republics. Very precise – even if very prompt.'

  `It fits in with the picture I'm building up of what is happening.'

  `And you wouldn't care to sketch in that picture?'

  `Too early yet.' Tweed stood up. 'Thanks for the food, for all your co-operation. I'd better get back to the hotel now.'

  `I'll get you an unmarked car to take you there. See you in the morning – at Blankenese. I wonder what they will haul up out of the depths of the Elbe?'

  Tweed thanked the driver, stepped out of the car. About to climb the flight of steps into the hotel he paused. Walking towards him was Paula. He advanced on her.

  `What the devil are you doing out on your own?'

  `Don't I count?'

  Newman emerged out of the shadows where he had stopped for a second to glance in a shop window. He grinned at Tweed's discomfiture.

  `We are looking after her, as you see.'

  `Thank heaven for that. Sorry, Paula. I was worried. It is cold – the temperature has dropped suddenly. Let's get into the warmth.'

  They mounted the steps with Tweed in the middle. As they entered the lobby Tweed stood quite still, motioned with his hands for Paula and Newman to do the same. Straight ahead of them extended an arm of the lobby where the toilets were situated. Hanging from the walls of the extended arm were several tapestries.

  An imposing figure, clad in a smoking jacket, expensive blue trousers, a white shirt, and a red bow-tie, stood examining the tapestries. Dr Wand. Alongside him stood Jules Starmberg. The two men turned, began walking towards the lobby. They saw Tweed and his companions at the same moment.

  Dr Wand stopped, motionless, staring at Tweed. He was so still he might have been a statue. Gazing at them through his pince-nez, his expression froze – showed no trace of emotion whatsoever. Starmberger lacked his chief's iron self-control. Astonishment, disbelief, fury
– his reaction was clearly written on his brutish face.

  Wand was the first to recover. Smiling his twisted smile, he came forward, his eyes gleaming.

  `My dear Tweed, what an amazing coincidence. Of all the cities in Europe, this wonderful continent of such infinite variety, how extraordinary that we-'

  `Good-night,' Tweed said, and led the way to the Haerlin restaurant.

  Dr Hyde slowly climbed the hill behind the hafen – the harbour on the River Elbe in Hamburg. He had just enjoyed the company of an obliging lady he had met on the waterfront. Her fee had seemed rather exorbitant compared with Liege, but then he reminded himself that the quality of her entertainment had been rather higher.

  He moved slowly because the fog made everything seem different. The last thing he wanted to do was to lose his way to the modest gasthof which he had made his temporary home. He sighed with relief as he saw the blurred neon sign indicating vacancies.

  His attempt to use the key his landlady had lent him and enter unseen was a fiasco. As he crept towards the stairs she opened the door of her living-room. A scrawny woman with greedy eyes, her expression was one of unpleasant amusement as she greeted him in German.

  Not a night to linger on the waterfront. You must have had a long walk. You've been out over two hours.'

  `And what concern is that of yours?' he snapped in his pidgin German.

  `I thought perhaps you had found some company. There is a good selection of that on the waterfront.'

  `Shut your trap, you old-'

  His face had twisted into a glare of sheer malevolence – a mistake he tried to correct immediately. He gave her his best bedside manner smile, thankful he had stopped himself from calling her a hag. That would have drawn a lot of attention to himself permanently.

  `Please do excuse me, Frau, but I drank a little wine and it has upset my stomach. I hope you will accept my deep apologies…'

  She pursed her lips, shrugged her thin shoulders, slammed the door shut in his face. Perturbed, he climbed the stairs, unlocked the door of his sparsely furnished room, heard the phone ringing, hurried to pick up the receiver.

  Dr Wand sat at the desk in his room at the Four Seasons, drumming his thick fingers on its surface. Starmberg was waiting anxiously for his reaction. It came fast enough.

  `What I would like to know, my dear Jules, is how in the name of Heaven could Tweed have survived?'

  `The Cadillac team reported over my car radio that the main consignment was aboard. That must have meant Tweed. I don't understand what went wrong.'

  `Miss Paula Grey must enjoy our company,' Wand decided. 'You said you had a plan?'

  `It is foolproof,' Starmberg assured him.

  `Then will you be so good as to reactivate this marvellous plan? And I must phone Dr Hyde. This time we will wait only three days after Miss Grey has sampled our hospitality. Three days for Tweed to eat his soul out. Then we will send him a piece of Miss Grey to remind him he must remain in retirement.'

  Wand checked the number of the gasthof Dr Hyde had phoned to him while Wand was still at his Waterloo villa. Dialling the number, he bit his thin lips as the ringing went on and on. Was the corrupt swine out spending his money on worthless women again?

  `Who is calling?'

  Dr Hyde's distinctive grovelling voice. He sounded short of breath.

  `You know who is speaking,' Wand began. 'A patient will be needing urgent treatment. So kindly listen carefully. Your case is packed? Excellent. Leave at once for the railway station. Catch the first possible train to Flensburg on the German-Danish border. As soon as you arrive a car will be waiting outside to take you across the frontier into Jutland – Denmark. The driver will identify himself as Johnny from Tinglev. I will spell that name.. Repeat it, please. Good…'

  `Could I not catch another train to Tinglev-'

  `My dear sir' – Wand's tone was pure acid – 'when I make a suggestion I have a reason for doing so. At that hour it is most unlikely there will be a connection. If, by chance, when you arrive at Flensburg station Johnny is not there, you wait for him. When he picks you up he will drive you to your ultimate destination. I will arrange for a nurse to be in attendance…'

  `The patient-' Dr Hyde began.

  `I would much appreciate it if you would refrain from interrupting me. I was about to tell you the patient needing treatment is a female. Now, ask the woman who runs that place to phone for a taxi. Immediately, I suggest.'

  Dr Wand broke the connection. His face was flushed with annoyance. He gave the order to Starmberg.

  `You heard what I said. Phone Clausen after checking the train arrival time at Flensburg. And the sooner you put into operation your plan to obtain the company of Miss Grey the better. You know where she is to be transported to, after hearing the name Tinglev.'

  `For operational reasons the Miss Grey abduction will have to be carried out tomorrow evening.'

  `That is your responsibility.' Wand's face expressed disapproval. 'I do wish you would not use such crude terms as abduction. She will be our guest.'

  Tweed had just ordered from the menu in the Haerlin restaurant when he stiffened. 'Damn!' he muttered under his breath.

  `Something wrong?' Newman enquired.

  `Yes – with me. I've forgotten a vital task for Kuhlmann. Is that public phone box far away?'

  `Only a few minutes' walk. I'll come with you.'

  `Don't leave the restaurant,' Tweed warned Paula. `We'll be back before the food arrives…'

  Collecting their coats, which had been taken from them by the head waiter, they dashed into the bitterly cold night. Newman waited outside while Tweed called Berliner Tor, asked for Kuhlmann, who came on the line swiftly.

  `One important request I forgot to make, Otto. There may well be a Dr Hyde, an evil man, in Hamburg. Can you send a courier to the Haerlin restaurant? I will give him a large number of duplicate photos of this creature. And I suspect he may frequent prostitutes.'

  `A plain-clothes courier will come immediately on a motorcycle. Meantime I will alert patrol cars to converge on the waterfront area. That's where these girls hang out. The search will be under way within thirty minutes…'

  39

  No one had felt like sleep: tension gripped them all as they sensed the battle against Dr Wand was moving towards a climax.

  They were assembled in Tweed's room – Paula, Newman, Marler, Butler, and Nield, plus a sixth man. It was after midnight and the surprise arrival of the newcomer had happened a few minutes earlier.

  There had been a discreet tapping on the door. Newman, his Smith amp; Wesson concealed in his right hand, unlocked the door with his left hand, turned the handle suddenly, and jerked the door open a few inches. 'Good God!' he had whispered. 'Come in quickly.'

  Philip Cardon had walked in, wearing a business suit of German cut. The small man Paula had nicknamed 'the Squirrel' looked round as Newman closed and relocked the door. Cardon smiled impishly as they stared at him in astonishment.

  `Good morning, everyone. I knew you'd never do the job without me.' He looked at Tweed. 'What is the job?'

  `Sit down, Philip. Have a good rest? For this time of night you look amazingly fresh.'

  `I'm a night bird.' Cardon winked at Paula, sat beside her as she patted the couch. 'I wake up when the rest of the world is sleeping. The best time to catch the opposition off guard.' He looked at Tweed again. 'Who exactly is the opposition?'

  `I was just about to sum up the present situation, Philip. Briefly, we are faced with the most sadistic, ruthless, and cunning enemy we've ever confronted. The body count so far shows that – all murdered.' He counted them off on his fingers. 'Hilary Vane, Irene Andover, a cab driver in Brussels, Sir Gerald Andover, Lucie Delvaux, Joseph Mordaunt – which makes six.'

  `Don't forget old Mrs Garnett at Moor's Landing, who vanished,' Newman reminded him. 'I doubt we'll ever see her alive again.'

  `I agree,' Tweed said. 'I do have an idea where to look for her – but that will have to wait until w
e get home. I now come to data which is top secret…'

  `Has this room been checked out?' Cardon asked quickly.

  `Thanks to Butler, it has.'

  Earlier, when Butler had been one of the first to arrive, he had insisted on using an instrument he always carried to 'flash' the room – to check it for listening devices. In his thorough way, he had taken thirty minutes searching for any planted devices. Then he had nodded to Tweed.

  `Clean as a whistle…'

  For the next quarter of an hour Tweed gave Cardon a terse account of events, starting with Paula's experience at the Lymington marina and ending with his encounter with Dr Wand in the lobby of the Four Seasons. He had just finished when the phone rang. Paula answered it, looked at Tweed.

  `Otto Kuhlmann for you…'

  `We missed your good friend, Hyde, by no more than half an hour,' Kuhlmann reported. 'He had been staying at a gasthof behind the waterfront. The old horror who runs the place positively identified him from one of your photos my man was carrying. He had stayed there for several days and suddenly departed this evening after receiving a phone call.'

  `He keeps slipping out of my hands. An elusive villain,' Tweed commented.

  `Wait! There's more. Hyde told the old bag he was flying to Dusseldorf, then going on to Belgium later. Too much detail. I didn't believe it. I sent patrol cars to the rail station. They had orders to show his photo to all ticket clerks. One had unfortunately gone off duty. An officer got his address in Altona and drove out there. This ticket clerk remembered Hyde well. Hyde was in a bad temper, abused the clerk for not giving him his ticket to Flensburg fast enough.'

  `Flensburg? That's close to the Danish border.'

  `It is. I alerted the Flensburg police but they were just too late. The train from Hamburg had arrived ten minutes earlier.'

  `Checkmate, then…'

  `No! I am like a bulldog with a bone. I never let go – you know that. I phoned a friend who is a member of the Danish frontier control – not that it amounts to much these days. I described Dr Hyde with the photo in front of me. He has a distinctive face. My friend remembered a car arriving at the frontier – with Hyde as a passenger in the back. He knows where the driver comes from. A small Danish town called Tinglev – not too far inside Jutland.'