'From the shipper of the cargo to Rostock. It should reach its destination within the next seventy-two hours.'
'Any hitches.?'
Lysenko hesitated briefly. 'None. Everything according to schedule.'
'You paused before you said that.'
Damn him, Lysenko thought. He doesn't miss a thing. He manufactured a sneeze. 'Sorry, I think I have a cold starting.'
'Keep me informed. It's not over until it has arrived…'
Connection broken. He never sleeps, Lysenko thought. He has the stamina of an ox. He hurried down to the darkened street where his car was waiting. Arriving at Markus Wolf's building, he took the elevator to the office after showing the guard on the entrance door his identity. Opening the door, he found another man who seemed to need no sleep. Behind his desk, Wolf looked up, stared at him through those square- shaped glasses which gave him a stern look.
'A problem, Lysenko. All communications with West Germany have been interrupted. When I told you earlier I thought it was a technical fault.'
'It might still be that. The West isn't as efficient as it likes to boast it is.'
'No. Something is wrong. The interruption has gone on too long. I'm worried. I sense trouble.'
'Why?'
'No word from Munzel. And what has happened to Tweed? I'm unhappy when I don't know where he is, what he's doing.' 'He can't do a thing.'
'I may remind you of that statement in the not too distant future,' Wolf rapped back.
It was broad daylight. The Sudwind was proceeding at full power into Copenhagen harbour. Hours earlier Casey had reported that the Nordsee had moved on a course due north – into the Oresund, heading for the Kattegat between Denmark and Sweden.
Tweed had taken over the wheel from Newman during the night – to give himself something purposeful to do, to give Newman a chance to get some sleep. As he replaced Newman he had asked him about the forced drawers in the cabin.
'I did that while you were phoning Monica from the police station. Found a box of tools, selected two drawers at random, and levered off the locks with the steel chisel. Found nothing.'
`You expected – hoped to find?'
`The drug consignment. Seemed logical. That cruiser I watched being loaded from the Wroclaw could have been the Sudwind. Why do you think Berlin had new locks attached?'
`Bluff. He's a clever swine. He hoped we'd think what you thought. Maybe wait and waste time watching for him to come back. What puzzles me is that was the moment Diana started to panic – when she saw those new locks.'
`Ask her – if you ever see her again.' He caught the expression on Tweed's face. 'Sorry, I didn't phrase that too tactfully.'
Newman reappeared as they approached Copenhagen, took over the wheel from Tweed. From the sea Copenhagen was a city which had changed very little with the passage of time – except for two high-rise buildings poking their ugly multi-storey edifices above the surrounding buildings. Tweed stayed on the bridge, guiding Newman since he knew the harbour well.
During the night they had encountered very little traffic in the Baltic. Now, under an overcast sky, the sea was alive with pleasure craft – yachts pirouetting in the slight breeze, small cruisers put-putting over the choppy waves. Newman skilfully threaded his way between them.
Nield sat by the transceiver, wearing his headset, taking down a message. He signed off, swivelled round in his chair and gave the gist of the signal to Tweed.
`A long one. Casey landed at Kastrup to refuel, took off again. He's having trouble tracking the Nordsee – too much other traffic afloat in this part of the world…'
He hasn't lost it?' There was alarm in Tweed's voice.
`No. God knows where he's going. He keeps heading north. It's beginning to look like Oslo. He's proceeding up the west coast of Sweden, keeping close in among the regular traffic. He's off Gothenburg now..
`Call back Casey,' Tweed said. 'Warn him to keep closest possible observation.' He was studying the chart. 'He's just reached the point where he could veer due west across the Skagerrak and into the North Sea. Ask for a further report within fifteen minutes.'
Newman had reduced speed considerably. They saw the hydrofoil which made regular crossings – taking no more than half an hour – to Malmo in Sweden. Elevated on its great skis, bow out of the water, it plunged over the sea as though gliding. Tweed continued to guide Newman who had reduced speed to little more than walking pace.
`What's the next move now?' Newman asked.
`I have to check two things in Copenhagen. Take a cab to the Royal to see if Butler left any message when he got off the night express with Diana. Then we go on to Lindemann's HQ near the Radhuspladsen, find out where he is. And I can call Monica from there.'
`And after that?'
`I've really no idea.'
Nield received a fresh signal from Sea King when Newman was easing the Sudwind along a wide channel past some grey-camouflaged warships. They were now deep inside Copenhagen and ahead the channel ended in a cul- de-sac.
`We berth on the starboard side,' Tweed instructed. 'This is where the Oslo boats sail from.'
Newman swung the wheel, crossed the channel, headed for the waterfront where ancient warehouses loomed behind a wide promenade. A huge fountain sprayed like an opening flower. Men and women strolled under the grey sky wearing raincoats. Behind the fountain loomed a magnificent palace. Tweed pointed to it.
`Amalienborg Palace. A beautiful place…'
Nield removed his headset. He handed Tweed the message and stood up, stretching his arms and legs.
`Casey reports Nordsee well north of Gothenburg. Moving like the clappers, maintaining a northern course, hugging the Swedish coastline.'
`Then it looks like Oslo,' said Tweed.
Tweed asked the cab driver to wait outside the Royal Hotel, walked inside with Newman, leaving Nield behind in the cab. The layout had been changed since his previous visit. The reception area in the vast hall comprised a number of round tables supported by a central column. Perched on each table was a console with a girl in attendance. He picked a brunette, said he was expecting a message to be waiting, gave his name and waited while the girl walked behind the glass wall of a rear area.
`American reception technique,' he commented to Newman, waving a hand at the tables. 'The girl taps out your name for your reservation and it all comes up on the screen. The modern age.'
`And you prefer the old system? One long reception counter as they had at the Four Seasons.'
`It's more human. We'll all end up as machines…'
He stopped as the girl came back holding an envelope. She asked for identification and he produced his passport. When he had the envelope they walked over to a seat and sat down while he tore it open, took out a folded sheet, studied the hastily scribbled message and handed it to Newman.
`Good job we brought our cases with us.'
Diana took cab from rail station for Kastrup Airport. Booked one-way ticket to Oslo. Staying at Grand Hotel. Am following. 0730 hours. Harry.
`Why is it a good job?' asked Newman after absorbing the message.
`Because we have to move fast. It's Oslo again…'
`Almost looks as though Diana is joining Dr Berlin there.'
`And I was wrong about her. We'll fly to Oslo. Lindemann calls it the shuttle. Only a fifty-minute flight – planes leave here for Oslo all day long. Amazing service – and the flight is non-stop.'
`What about the Sudwind? And Casey somewhere up there in the wild blue yonder?'
'We ditch the Sudwind. Nield can take the cab back to the boat, contact Casey, tell him what we're doing, instruct him to land at Fornebu – that's Oslo Airport – and wait for us.'
