different angles. The overall effect obtained by looking through the lenses of the instrument conjured up a three- dimensional image. Newman recalled reading somewhere that during World War Two a certain Flight Officer Babington-Smith had – by using a similar device – detected from aerial photos the first solid evidence that the Nazis had created successfully their secret weapon, the flying bomb. Now another woman, Lisbeth Dubach, years later, was going to show him she had discovered what? As he approached the table he was aware of a tingling sensation at the base of his neck.
`This building,' Dubach began, 'is very strange. I have only once before seen anything similar. Take a look through the lenses, please…'
The laboratory! The building jumped up at Newman in all its three-dimensional solidity as though he were staring down at it from a very low-flying aircraft. He studied the photos and then stood upright and shook his head.
`I'm sorry, I don't see what you're driving at…'
`Look again, please! Those chimneys – their tips. You see the weird bulges perched on top – almost like huge hats perched on top?'
`Yes, I see them now…' Newman was stooped again gazing through the lenses, trying to guess what he was looking at could mean. Once again he gave it up and shook his head.
`I must be thick,' he decided. 'I do now see what you've spotted but I can't detect anything sinister..
`Once while visiting England,' Dubach explained, 'I made a trip to your nuclear plant at Windscale, the plant where Sir John Cockcroft insisted during its design that they had to install special filters on the chimneys…'
`Oh, Christ!' Newman muttered to himself.
`There was a near-disaster at Windscale later,' Dubach continued. 'Only the filters stopped a vast radiation cloud escaping. The filters you are looking at now at the Fribourg complex are very similar..
`But one thing we can tell you,' Newman objected, 'is that this building has nothing whatever to do with nuclear power.'
`There is something there they are making which needs the protection of similar filters,' Dubach asserted.
Newman, still absorbing the appalling implications of what Lisbeth Dubach had detected in the photos, now found himself subjected to a fresh shock.
As soon as they were alone, Blanche produced a sheaf of papers from an envelope and placed them on the sofa between them. They were, Newman observed, photocopies of typed originals. He had no suspicion that – by making photocopies of the sheets she had typed from the notebook – Blanche was protecting her source, Tweed.
She had gone to the length of typing them single-spaced, whereas her normal typing method was double- spacing, as Newman was well aware. She was careful with her explanation.
`Bob, I can't possibly tell you the identity of the client concerned. I'm breaking my iron-clad rule as it is – never to show information obtained for one client to another…'
`Why?' Newman demanded. 'Why are you doing it now?'
`Bob, don't push me! The only reason I'm showing you this data is because I happen to be very fond of you. I know you are investigating the Berne Clinic. What worries me is you may not realize what – who – you are up against. If you read these photocopies it might put you more on your guard. The power wielded by this man is quite terrifying…'
`So I read these and give them back to you?'
`No, you can take them with you. But for God's sake, you don't know where they came from. They were delivered to you at the Bellevue Palace. See, I've typed an envelope addressed to you at the Bellevue Palace. They were left with the concierge at the hotel…'
`If that's the way you want to play it…'
`I'll make you coffee while you're reading them. I could do with some myself. What Lisbeth Dubach told us has scared the wits out of me. What have we got into?'
Newman didn't reply as he picked up the photocopies and started reading. The report on Professor Armand Grange had, he realized quickly, been prepared by an experienced investigator who wasted no words. There were also signs that he – or she – had been working under pressure.
SUBJECT: Professor Armand Grange. Born 1924 at Laupen, near Berne. Family wealthy – owners of watchmaking works. Subject educated University of Lausanne. Brief period military service with Swiss Army near end World War Two.
Rumoured to be member of specialist team sent secretly into Germany to obtain quantity of the nerve gas, TABUN, ahead of advancing Red Army. Note: Repeat, rumour – not confirmed.
After war trained as doctor at Lausanne Medical School, followed by post-graduate work at Guy's Hospital, London, and Johns Hopkins Memorial Hospital, Baltimore, Maryland, USA. Brilliant student, always top of his class.
Military service not continued due to eye defect. After qualifying as lung consultant, trained as accountant. He proved to be as brilliant in this field as in the medical.
1954. Due to financial flair became director of Zurcher Kredit Bank at early age of 30. 1955. Founded Chemiekonzern Grange AG with factory at Horgen on shores of Lake Zurich. Chemiekonzern manufactures commercial gases, including oxygen, nitrous oxide, carbon dioxide and cyclopropane, a gas used in medical practice. Rumoured finance for foundation of Chemiekonzern provided by Zurcher Kredit Bank. Note: Repeat, rumour – not confirmed.
1964. Subject bought controlling interest in Berne Clinic. This establishment reported engaged in practice of cellular rejuvenation since subject took over. General comment: subject speaks fluent German, French, English and Spanish. Has made frequent visits to USA and South America. Believed to be millionaire. I was told by reliable contact no decision affecting Swiss military policy taken without reference to subject. One of the most influential voices in Swiss industrial-military complex. This comprises preliminary report based on sources in Zurich and Berne.
Newman read through the report twice and his expression was grim as he inserted the sheets inside the addressed envelope. Recent incidents flashed into his mind, triggered off by the report.
The doodle he had been given by Anna Kleist, a doodle of a gas-mask. Arthur Beck's comment about Hannah Stuart. 'The body was cremated…' The photograph Julius Nagy had taken of Beck outside the Taubenhalde – talking to Dr Bruno Kobler, chief administrator of the Berne Clinic.
Col Lachenal's reference to tous azimuts – all-round defence of Switzerland. And, most recent of all, Lisbeth Dubach's interpretation of the photos Blanche had taken of the laboratory at the Berne Clinic`… something there they are making which needs the protection of similar filters.'
Another aspect of the report intrigued Newman: it bore all the hallmarks of a military appreciation with its terse, precise phraseology. That took his mind back to his meeting in the bar at the Bellevue Palace with Captain Tommy Mason. What was it the Englishman had said during their conversation when Newman had queried his research trip?
`Yes. Medical. Standards of and practice in their private clinics…'
Newman had little doubt he had just read a report drawn up by Mason – Mason who had 'accidentally' bumped into him in that bar, who was now dead. He asked Blanche the question, feeling pretty sure he already knew the answer.
`At the end of the report the word 'preliminary' is used. That suggests more to come. Did you get the impression from your other client this would be the case?'
`No, I didn't.' Blanche paused. 'Nothing was said about any further data coming from the same source.' She perched on the arm of the sofa next to him. 'Bob, that report is frightening. Where is all this leading to? There is a mention of the Zurcher Kredit Bank – my stepfather is president of that bank…'
`There really isn't a close relationship between you two?'
`If you don't do exactly what my stepfather wants you to – and I didn't – he just forgets all about you. He's very much the military man. Obey orders – or else…'
`Blanche…' He took her hand. `… this whole business is beginning to look far more dangerous than I ever suspected. Is there any way your father could know that we are friends?'
`Our lives have gone separate ways. He doesn't know who my friends are – and doesn't want to know. And
