`Kuhlmann has something to tell you,' Newman interjected. `Oh, yes?'
`Dr Berlin returned to his mansion as soon as the search had been completed. That was after all of us had left. I heard on the phone from the local Travemunde police station.'
`Are you going to interview him?'
`No authority. I can't go back. The warrant was to search the premises and grounds, note down all the guests' names. We did find one interesting item. High-powered transceiver hidden behind a bookcase in the library. Range would permit messages to and from Kaliningrad. That happens. to be a major Soviet communications centre.'
`Illegal? You said it was hidden,' Tweed commented.
`Not at all. And Danny Warning, that toad of a security chief, said it was expensive equipment – so it had to be concealed from burglars.' He lit a cigar. 'I don't like that Warning. I can't do anything more.'
`Can you do anything about Kurt Franck?' Tweed asked.
`If I could find him – which I can't – negative. Neither of you made a positive identification. He checked out of the Movenpick, drove off in his hired BMW. Vanishing trick. See you.'
Waiting outside in the night, which was warm and humid, for their cab, Tweed stared into the darkness. He spoke suddenly.
`Guard Diana well, Bob. She could be the key to this mysterious business – the murders of Fergusson and Palewska in Hamburg, the enigma of Dr Berlin. And something much bigger.'
`Since you keep on about my guarding her you wouldn't care to tell me why?'
`She could be a witness,' Tweed said. 'The witness…'
The following morning, his bag packed, Tweed phoned Kuhlmann at police HQ. The German came on the line and sounded impatient.
`I'm throwing out a dragnet across North Germany – looking for Franck. What is it?'
`I just wondered whether there were any developments on the Dr Berlin front.'
`You psychic? He's disappeared again. Early this morning. I had him tracked to Lubeck airfield – that's close to the border. He was flown off in a light aircraft. The flight plan filed was for Hamburg and Hanover…'
`Thank you. I won't hold you up any longer.'
Tweed replaced the receiver, looked at Newman sitting in one of his bedroom chairs and clapped his hands together.
`You look pleased with yourself,' Newman commented.
`Not really. Kuhlmann tells me Dr Berlin has flown off from Lubeck – from that airfield I spotted on the map. We must visit it when I get back. What are you going to do today?'
`Diana is restless, edgy. She wants us to go out to Travemunde. Which suits me. I want to have a word with that chap, Ben – Ann Grayle's friend – on his own…'
`Don't forget. No one must know I've left Germany.'
`You're pretty conspicuous in that safari jacket. I'll come with you to the station. Diana will wait till I get back. So stop fussing.'
At the Hauptbahnhof Tweed joined a small queue for tickets. A plump individual walked up behind him and also stood waiting. Newman, pretending to look at a paperback, tried to recall where he had seen the man before.
Tweed bought a one-way first class ticket to Bonn and hurried to his platform, carrying his white suitcase. Newman continued watching as the plump man bought his own ticket, then made for a phone booth.
Inside the booth he dialled the number of Martin Vollmer's apartment in Altona. Vollmer came on the line at once.
`Gustav here,' the plump man said in a throaty voice. 'Tweed is leaving Lubeck by train. Bought a one-way ticket for Bonn.' He described how Tweed was dressed.
`I'll report to Balkan. I'll also check at Hamburg. Just to make sure…'
Newman followed the plump man who shoved his ticket inside a pocket. He walked outside the Hauptbahnhof, climbed behind the wheel of a parked BMW and drove off. He remembered now where he had seen him. He was one of Danny Warning's guards who had patrolled the grounds at the party.
The wires began humming again.
`Tweed is coming to Bonn… to Bonn… Bonn.
Aboard the Hamburg Express, Tweed found an empty compartment on the train which was very quiet. He took his large white case, bought the previous day in Lubeck, with him to the lavatory and locked the door. Unfastening the white case he took out the smaller blue one and opened that. He performed the athletic process of changing into a dark blue business suit.
Then he put the safari jacket and the tropical drill slacks inside the white case and closed it.
Opening the door, he glanced along the deserted corridor, opened the window of the exit door and waited. The train reached a point where it travelled along an embankment. At the bottom a tangle of high weeds grew; beyond the empty fields stretched away. Perching the case on the edge of the window, he gave a great heave. The case shot out, landed amid the weeds. He closed the window, went back to the lavatory for his blue case and returned to his compartment.
Hamburg Hauptbahnhof. Martin Vollmer stood on the same bridge overlooking the platforms where he had weeks earlier watched as Tweed and Newman boarded the Copenhagen Express. His lips moved in tune with his thoughts.
`Safari jacket, TD trousers, white case…'
He was watching the platform as the train came in from Lubeck. A handful of passengers trailed off the coaches and wandered to the staircase. Vollmer shook his head as the express moved off again, then walked to the nearest phone booth and dialled a number.
`Martin here. Tweed still aboard express for Bonn…'
Tweed was the first passenger to leave the train at Hamburg. He walked faster than his usual pace, and he had taken off his glasses. Climbing the staircase, he headed for the taxi rank.
`The airport,' he informed the driver and settled back in his seat. He glanced back twice through the rear window as the cab proceeded along the boulevard-like highway leading to the airport. No sign of anyone following.
Tweed sensed there was a dragnet out searching for him. They were probably using Markus Wolf's favourite technique – the leapfrog method. Station watchers at intervals along the target's known route. A technique almost impossible to spot – provided the target obliged by travelling the route they expected.
At the airport he bought a single first-class ticket to Heathrow for Lufthansa Flight 042, departing 13.40, arriving 14.05, local times. He was arriving in London twenty-four hours ahead of when he was expected. There was plenty to do before the meeting of the sector chiefs scheduled for nine the following morning. One appointment he hoped to make was crucial.
Seventeen
`Good God, man, where have you sprung from? You're not supposed to be here until tomorrow.'
He had to bump into Howard as soon as he entered Park Crescent. Tweed swore inwardly as Howard followed him up the stone steps and into his office. Monica looked up from her desk and stared. Tweed hung his Burberry on a hanger and sat behind his desk as Howard closed the door and perched his right buttock on the edge of the desk. He folded his arms and glowered at Tweed.
`And what, may I ask, is all this nonsense about summoning all four sector chiefs from Europe to a conference?'
`An essential part of my strategy to find the odd man out…'
`Which is so enlightening. And, of course,' Howard continued in his most upper crust tone, 'you yourself chose what you deem to call the odd man out…'
`Which increases my responsibility for tracking him down…'
`Masterly understatement,' Howard commented. 'To put it into the vernacular, your head is on the chopping
