around while she busied herself with the percolator.
'I was actually on deck here when that girl was killed,' she said.
`How do you know that? You heard something?'
`Oh, nothing horrible – like screams. But it's all over the town. The fact that she was killed about midnight. I was sitting watching the lights, waiting to feel sleepy.' She turned to face him, leaning against the counter while she waited for the coffee to be ready. Her face looked whiter than ever.
`Actually, Tweedy, I did hear something about a quarter past midnight. I didn't think much of it at the time…'
`And what was that?'
`The sound of a dinghy crossing the channel from the beach on this side to Priwall Island..
`Diana…' Tweed was leaning forward, watching her intently, his eyes alert with interest behind his glasses. `… exactly what do you mean? A dinghy doesn't make any noise.'
`I'm not explaining this very well.' She brushed a lock of hair back over her finely-shaped forehead. `I mean a dinghy equipped with an outboard motor. I even saw its wake – quite a distance beyond the marina. It disappeared behind a headland on Priwall Island. I thought it was a bit late for someone to be going home and then it went out of my mind – until I heard the news this morning.'
`Have you told the police?'
`God, no! They never stop questioning you.' She was leaning back so the curve of her hips showed clearly against the close- fitting white dress she wore. 'Coffee's ready,' she said and poured two cups. They went back up on deck.
`It's so claustrophobic down in that galley,' she said.
Tweed recognized the symptoms. She couldn't stay in one place for long. The symptoms of shock. They sat in the chairs on deck, the sun shone down, and she had no protection to shade her face. Badly shaken, Tweed said to himself. Understandable. But why this intense degree of shock?
`Will Dr Berlin be cancelling his party this afternoon?' Tweed wondered aloud. 'In view of what has happened?'
`Oh, no, I'm sure he won't. He's a wonderful man, but he is hardly aware of what is going on outside his own private orbit. I noticed that when I first met him in Kenya.'
`How did you first come to know him?'
`I must have been no more than eighteen. Everyone worshipped him – the work he was doing to help the natives. He had a hospital in the bush. Today everyone thinks of him as a second Dr Albert Schweitzer. He was a bit out of touch with the real world from what I've read. I drove a truck with medical supplies into the hospital in the bush. I was very idealistic in those days.'
`And now?'
`I suppose I've seen too much of men to be idealistic any more. It can be a curse being a blonde. They all think… well, you know. Dr Berlin isn't like that though. He's only interested in his work, his work for the refugees now..
`But surely the refugees who fled from East Prussia and the other territories after the war are settled, have made a life for themselves?'
'On the surface, yes. Underneath, it can be very difficult. Divided families on both sides of the border. He negotiates with the East Germans at times. They accept him as a neutral, probably because his parents were born in Leipzig.' She gave Tweed a fresh cup of coffee.
`That's enough about me – and Dr Berlin. Why is Bob Newman hobnobbing with Ann Grayle? I saw him over there walking on to her landing stage…'
`You know these reporters. Always love talking to people, hoping for something they can turn into a story…'
`I spent the morning, Mr Newman, going through my bags looking for my gun,' Ann Grayle said as they sat on the deck of the sloop, drinking gin and tonic.
`And did you find it?'
`Look.' She reached down for her handbag, opened it and handed something to Newman, leaning forward so he caught the faintest whiff of perfume. She really was a very attractive woman he thought to himself.
Resting on the open palm of his hand was a Browning automatic. 32 calibre. He recognized the weapon. Manufactured at Herstal, Belgium.
`Careful, it's loaded,' she warned.
`You have the experience to use it?'
`I was a crack shot back in the old Nairobi days. A woman left alone while her husband was working needed some protection. The natives could turn on you without warning.'
`And if someone crept aboard this sloop after dark?'
`I'd shoot him point-blank.'
There was a crisp, whiplash in her tone. As he handed back the gun Newman had no doubt she'd do just what she said. She slipped the Browning back inside her handbag and crossed her shapely legs, watching him as she spoke.
`I see your friend, Tweed, is being entertained by Goldenlegs. Is he a widower? He'd better watch it.'
`Goldenlegs?'
`A bit crude perhaps, but it sums up her best assets – and how she uses them…'
`I don't imagine Dr Berlin has much interest in women,' Newman said, changing the subject.
`Your imagination would be wildly wrong. I know he poses as the great Father Figure, the second Albert Schweitzer. But take my word for it, he likes attractive girls. You'll see some of them at his party. He has them carefully vetted before they're admitted into the august presence.'
`Vetted? You're joking…'
`I'm not used to being contradicted. Vetted is what I said. His chief assistant, Danny Warning, checks their backgrounds before any girl is allowed near Dr Berlin. They're on the lookout for reporters slipping through the security. I can't imagine why you've been invited…'
`Maybe because I did once interview him. You've kept your friendship with Dr Berlin since those long ago days in Kenya?'
`Since Nairobi I haven't exchanged a word with him – nor have the rest of the old crowd. He keeps us very much out of his new life.'
`Why?'
`I've no idea. He wasn't sociable back in Kenya. But then the bush hospital took up most of his time in those days.'
`You said none of the old crowd knows him any more. What about Diana Chadwick?'
`Goldenlegs is the one exception. She helped him with the hospital years ago. I suppose they struck up some kind of relationship that has lasted. Mind you, in case you think I'm the perfect bitch, I'm sure her friendship with Dr Berlin is purely platonic, as they used to say.' She stood up. 'And now I'm going to throw you off the sloop. I have my hair to wash – that beastly atrocity last night has upset me. And I see Tweed has torn himself away from Diana and is coming over to see you. Have a good time at the party. It will be an eye- opener…'
Fourteen
The ferry to Priwall Island was like a barge with steel walls and a raised ramp fore and aft. It was crammed with passengers and carried about half-a-dozen cars. One of the crew was chatting to Tweed while Newman and Diana stood near the prow.
`That tall building over there is the Maritim Hotel,' the crewman told Tweed. 'There's a flashing light at the top after dark to mark the entrance to the channel. You can see the old lighthouse – that red structure this side..
Tweed estimated the hotel was well over twenty storeys – far and away the tallest building in Travemunde or Lubeck. The Baltic was choppy with wavelets under the burning sun, but the crossing took less than five minutes.
`Looks like we have a maniac on the loose,' the crewman continued. 'Two girls raped and slashed up in less than twenty-four hours. It's going to affect the season if we're not careful.
I heard a number of holidaymakers have paid their bills and left.'
