`How do you know they were raped?' Tweed enquired.
`It's all round the town. People talk of nothing else. I'll have to go now…'
The ferry slowed, bumped against the shore, the forward ramp was lowered and cars and passengers on foot began disembarking. Tweed was about to follow when the voice spoke in his ear.
`Interesting that Dr Berlin doesn't allow anything to disturb his arrangements. A couple of girls carved up,' Kuhlmann went on, 'a trivial incident.'
`You are coming to the party?' Tweed asked as they walked off and started down the Mecklenburger-strasse. He was again struck by the peace of the island, the abundance of trees.
`I may put in an appearance later. Take a good look at the security. God takes good care of himself. Have fun…'
It started immediately at the entrance to the mansion. Tweed was startled to see Newman holding up his arms while two guards patted his body, checking for weapons presumably. Another guard was checking Diana's handbag. Tweed joined the queue and heard Newman's comment loud and clear.
`Hell's bells. You think we're boarding an aircraft? Where are the metal detectors? And if you've got the American President here your security is lousy. Where are the dogs?'
There was confusion. The queue froze. A short, heavily-built man with a bald head which gleamed in the sun hurried up to the guards. He addressed Newman.
`I am Danny Warning, chief of security. Who are you?' `Newman. Robert Newman. And I was invited to this San Quentin circus you're running..
`You said something about dogs,' Warning said nastily.
`To sniff us for explosives. Do the job properly or not at all,' Newman went on sarcastically.
Warning turned to another guard who held a clipboard and a pen. 'Robert Newman,' he snapped.
`Yes, sir. He's on the list…'
`You have some form of identification?' Warning demanded as he turned to face Newman again. 'Driving licence? Passport?' `In a pig's eye…'
A tall thin man came running across the vast expanse of lawn. Tweed realized Newman's voice must have carried clear to the distant mansion looming in front of more trees. The thin man grasped Warning's arm.
`It's all right. I recognize him. No fuss…'
`I have my job to do,' Warning snapped again.
`Dr Berlin sent me to tell you. No fuss,' he repeated. `You may proceed,' Warning said.
Newman looked over his shoulder to where Diana stood watching him with a quirky smile. He beckoned her forward and shouted at the top of his voice.
`Come on! Don't worry. If Danny Warning tries to search you I'll kick his teeth in…'
What the hell do you think you're doing, Tweed wondered at the back of the crowd of waiting people. He watched Diana stroll forward, Newman take her arm and lead her across the lawn. When Tweed reached the open gateway he stopped and waited for the guards to check him. For the first time he noticed the thin man had a walkie-talkie. As Warning stepped forward the thin man again laid a hand on his arm.
`Let Mr Tweed through. He is an honoured guest.' `Thank you,' said Tweed.
Warning's dark eyes, blank of all expression, scanned Tweed, then he snapped his fingers. One of a dozen waiters touring the lawn with trays of glasses came forward.
`Champagne here, sir.' He indicated a line of glasses. 'Or Chablis or Beaujolais…'
`Champagne, I think. Thank you,' Tweed said again and wandered towards the large mansion perched on a slight eminence. It was probably built before the First World War, he guessed. The trim lawn was crowded with groups of chattering guests. Newman and Diana came up to him.
'And what was all that about, Bob?' Tweed asked coldly. 'We didn't come here to be conspicuous.'
'A test. First, I don't like being pawed by Dr Berlin's goons. But mainly to see how much he would take. How badly he wanted us to attend his shindig…'
`You're brighter than I'd thought,' Tweed admitted. 'And His Highness is up there, I think…'
They had their first view of Dr Berlin.
In front of the three-storey mansion – running along its full width – was a raised terrace. A broad flight of stone steps led up to it from the lawn. At the foot of the steps stood a group of men in civilian clothes who were obviously guards, barring the way.
A large oblong table covered with a white cloth stood in the very centre of the terrace. A dozen people sat at the table, nine men and three attractive girls, two brunettes and a redhead. At the far side of the table in a central position sat a bulky figure with a black beard.
He sat very still, a grey beret pulled down over his head. A cloak of the same colour was thrown over his shoulders and draped over his body despite the torrid heat. But the looming hulk of the mansion behind threw a shadow over the terrace.
Dr Berlin wore large tinted glasses and he was holding up a pair of binoculars aimed at the entrance gateway. Tweed sipped at his champagne as he studied his host from a distance of about fifty metres. Newman smiled cynically before he spoke.
`One thing I'll give him – he's well-organized.'
`What makes you say that?' asked Diana.
`That sudden switch of attitude on the part of bully-boy Danny Warning puzzled me. I see what happened now. From his elevated position Berlin can see through those field-glasses clear to the gate. He recognized me. And by his left hand on the table is a walkie-talkie. He can issue instructions to every guard on the premises through that. How did you manage, Tweed?'
`Received as an honoured guest…'
`You can see why now. He saw you through the binoculars – and for my money this is a damned weird set- up.'
`I can see the 'how',' Tweed said slowly. 'What I don't see is the 'why' – why he should be so interested in inviting me here so he can see me…'
`Or so you can see him,' Diana interjected flippantly.
`And this is as close as we get,' Newman remarked.
Across the lawn was strung a thick rope slung from poles rammed into the grass. The area beyond was empty of guests and more guards in civilian clothes patrolled up and down behind the rope.
`You know what I think they were checking me for?' Newman remarked to Diana as they strolled back into the crowd. 'A camera. You said he didn't like his picture being taken. Now I wonder why?'
`He's just naturally shy. Hates publicity. There are very few photographs of him in existence. He wouldn't even let me snap him. We've lost Tweed,' she said suddenly.
Tweed was still standing where they had left him, taking polite sips at his glass while he apparently admired the mansion. But all the time he was studying Dr Berlin. His host swivelled the field-glasses and the twin lenses focused directly on Tweed. Aware of the scrutiny, Tweed held his ground, staring back.
Apart from manipulating the binoculars the man rarely moved. Others at his table chatted away to each other, drank and refilled their glasses, ate from plates piled with some kind of edibles and seemed to be enjoying themselves. Dr Berlin put the binoculars down on the table, still staring at Tweed through the tinted glasses, his hands hidden behind two large coffee pots.
Difficult to see his expression at that distance. The beard didn't help. The sheer lack of motion in the man fascinated Tweed, who stood equally still. There was no one else near him as he remained staring at the terrace, one hand in the pocket of his safari jacket, the other holding his glass.
He felt a soft hand grip his forearm and he knew without looking round it was Diana. She tugged gently, urging him to join her. He waited a moment longer, gazing at the terrace. The side of her face touched his. He felt the soft outline of her breast against his upper arm. 'Come on, Tweedy,' she whispered.
He let her lead him away, into the crowds, weaving her way until they reached Newman who was standing alone, his expression grim. He looked relieved as they came up to him.
`There,' Diana said, 'I've rescued him. He's safe now.' `Safe? What on earth are you talking about?' Tweed asked. Newman replied. `Do you realize that standing out there in the middle of the lawn on your own you made the perfect target?'
`Stuff and nonsense…'
