the limousine Brand would be shot instantly.'
'Of course!' Newman commented ironically.
'Do go on,' Benoit urged the inspector. 'What happened to the pilot?'
'He said he must return immediately to Rotterdam where some VIP passengers would arrive at any time to be flown to some secret destination. Something to do with Royal-Dutch Shell.'
'And this crisis at the Banque Sambre?'
'You had better come and see for yourself. We have a police car which will take you there now.'
'It's a bloody muddle,' Butler commented when Newman translated what had been said as they followed Benoit and the inspector to the airport building.
'Agreed,' Newman whispered back. 'And Tweed would call it a smokescreen. Let's see what's happening first.'
The Avenue de la Liberte, normally deserted at this hour, was a hive of activity. The whole street was cordoned off with barriers and police cars. All side streets leading into it had been closed off. Police carrying arms patrolled somewhat aimlessly.
'That building is the Banque Sambre,' the inspector explained, pointing to the closed doors of an edifice with lights on in the first floor. That is Brand's office – up there with the lights on.'
'What exactly is going on?' Newman demanded.
'We have a state of siege…'
'Why?'
The kidnapper phoned police headquarters, said Brand was being held at gunpoint. The gunman warned no attempt should be made to storm the building or Brand would be shot. He also said he is being held to check a gold shipment due to arrive at Findel. I have no idea what he means.'
'We have,' said Newman. 'It's all linked to what is happening in Rotterdam. Is there any way we can get inside that building over the rooftops. Myself and Butler, I mean.'
'It is impossible!' The inspector was appalled and his normal air of stolidity vanished. 'Peter Brand's life is at stake. Don't you understand what I have said? He is a most important person.'
The cat's whiskers,' said Newman.
'I beg your pardon?'
'Nothing. Have any other conditions been laid down -apart from not storming the building?' Newman enquired.
'Yes, there must be no attempt to interfere with his telephone communications with the outside world. No attempt to tap his lines. Rotterdam has requested us to abide by these conditions. Some man called Tweed…'
'We know about Tweed,' Newman told him. 'I think we'll stay here awhile,' he said to Benoit. 'Meantime,' he went on in French, 'I'd like a very fast car made available for my use.'
'Brand has a Lamborghini in a garage nearby,' the inspector said. 'But I don't think he'd like it being used.'
'He's a prisoner,' Newman pointed out. 'What he likes or doesn't like is irrelevant. What happened to the chauffeur-driven limousine which brought him from the airport?'
'Parked in a side street close to the Banque. The chauffeur has been told to stay with trie car by Brand.'
'Then get me the Lamborghini now, please. Park it nearby in the street leading across the Viaduct to the airport. With the keys in the ignition and a police guard watching it.'
'May I ask what you foresee?' Benoit enquired.
'Sooner or later Brand is going back to Findel to check the gold shipment corning in. You said so yourself. When that happens I want to reach Findel first. Butler and myself.'
'I know what I'd really like,' said Butler. He looked at a police outrider sitting with his legs straddling a Honda. 'That motor-bike.' He turned to Newman. 'With you inside the Lamborghini and me on the motor-bike it will give us more flexibility for action. And a crash helmet that fits my big head.'
'Good thinking,' Newman decided.
Within a few minutes Butler had his Honda. He tried on several helmets the inspector obtained from other outriders, found one that fitted, left it on his head with the ear flaps dangling.
'You have a plan?' asked Benoit. 'You know what is coming?'
'Just pray that I'm right.'
Aboard the Adenauer passengers were dining late, making their meal last. Anything rather than go to bed and not sleep. The liner's master, Captain Brunner, after receiving the signal from Marine Control had taken a strong decision. He would inform everyone of the exact position.
Waldo Schulzberger, US Secretary of State, was the first to be told as he sat in his stateroom with his wife and Cal Dexter, the lanky chief of security.
'I'll signal Washington now,' said Dexter, springing to his feet. 'Find some way of getting you both off this floating bomb.'
'You'll do nothing of the sort,' Schulzberger ordered him. 'I don't mind you contacting Washington, but we're staying aboard.' He turned to Captain Brunner. 'You say you're informing all the passengers of the situation?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then my wife and I will not take dinner here in our stateroom. We'll eat in the first-class dining room…'
The rumour spread quickly – no one found out how it started – that the Secretary of State and his wife would be taken off the Adenauer secretly. It caused a sensation when Schulzberger appeared in the dining room. He stopped to chat with guests at several tables.
'It's a load of hogwash that Lucy and I are leaving the ship,' he told one industrialist who posed the question. 'We've paid our fare like the rest of you folks. We intend to enjoy the cruise soon as those people in Rotterdam have sorted this thing out. Which I know they will…'
He also declined to sit at the captain's table, joining a group of passengers at a large table. The news spread like wildfire through the ship. Soon the crew heard of his decision. Morale soared. If Schulzberger was staying the danger couldn't be all that great. One boisterous woman said as much to Brunner, who smiled and walked on.
'God help us,' he whispered to his First Officer. 'From that signal I received – reading between the lines – I'd put our chances of survival at fifty-fifty. If that…'
Tweed was talking to Blade on their own in the anteroom.
'When do you want to get your troop into position for the assault? The situation could develop very fast from now on. The bullion is being loaded at Frankfurt Airport aboard a transport aircraft bound for Findel.'
'Now. They are ready. And I don't want them cooped up any longer than is necessary. Mainly, I want every man on the ground so he can see for himself the lie of the land. Will you lead the way?'
'We move now then. Down the back staircase. Van Gorp has warned his men. One thing, I want to try and get aboard one of those police launches – to take a look at Euromast from another angle. Whatever happens, your troop doesn't attack until I fire a green Verey light. Whatever happens,' he repeated.
Five minutes later they were making their way along the side street towards the line of buildings screening them from the Euromast. It was 2.45 a.m. Fifteen minutes before Tweed was due for another confrontation with Klein.
Inside Euromast at platform level Klein watched the elevator door open. Chabot, returning from the Space Tower at the summit, stepped out holding a pair of night-glasses. Klein had sent him up there at regular intervals. He never went up himself since that would have isolated him from what was happening below.
'What is the situation now?' Klein asked.
'Same as before. All the vessels are waiting with their lights on. The Adenauer is a blaze of lights from stem to stern. No change in their position.'
'Good. Go up again in ten minutes' time.' He checked his watch. That will be just before Tweed comes to meet me again. Make a quick scan next time. No more than two minutes, then come down to report before I speak to Tweed.'
'Klein…' Chabot took several paces closer and his manner was aggressive. '… a lot of us want to know the escape route – how we're going to get away when the gold is delivered.'
'And I have told you a score of times you will hear later. I will give exact instructions. You will be surprised how easy it will be.. .'
'Surprise me now…'
