Deadlock

'They did,' Tweed told him.

'I had two men inside the restaurant,' Van Gorp said stiffly to the Inspector. 'I know they were shot. Any further news?'

'None. We questioned a number of the diners – a police patrol car happened to be cruising close by and saw something was not right. The descriptions of the weapon used differ – but we believe it must have been a 9 mm Heckler and Koch or a Uzi…'

'I see.' Van Gorp's tone was clipped. He turned to Tweed. 'I am forgetting my manners. This is Inspector Jansen. Now, we'd better make our way across the park.'

'I will come with you,' Jansen said, 'then I can take you to the HQ. We shall not be very close to Euromast but we shall be exposed if there is a marksman up there on that platform.'

'There probably will be,' Tweed remarked. 'The best in Europe. So I suggest we don't talk, that we spread out.'

'Several rifles have arrived but none of our marksmen yet.'

'I can use a rifle,' Newman said.

'And,' Tweed added, 'he's had military training and was a crack shot at Bisley.'

'Give him a rifle,' Van Gorp ordered. 'I will take full responsibility. This situation is unprecedented…'

There was a very brief delay while Jansen fetched a rifle from a van, handed it to Newman, who examined it by the light of a street lamp. He checked the weapon to make sure it was unloaded, tested the mechanism, accepted a magazine from Jansen and nodded.

'I'm ready.'

The walk across the park along the winding footpath was an eerie experience. Jansen led the single file and Tweed had Paula in front of him so he could throw her to the ground if shooting started. Although a distance away the Euromast seemed to loom over them. The lights were on in the restaurant windows but there was no sign of life.

Newman walked on the grass a few yards away from the file and closer to the tower. He held the rifle across his chest, the muzzle slanted upwards. He glanced ahead frequently but most of the time he was watching the tower. He didn't expect to hit a target if an emergency arose but he knew he could fire with close enough accuracy to hit above the rail, to force any marksman to keep his head down.

The silence amid the grass and the trees became more oppressive. The path seemed to wind forever. Newman was relieved when his night vision became accustomed to the darkness. He thought he saw movement, stopped instantly, took the aiming position, his finger round the trigger. He resumed walking slowly when he decided it had been an illusion.

They left the park, crossed a wide street by a church, made their way round a complex and deserted intersection of streets, then Jansen led them to the back of a building. A uniformed policeman stood on guard. They went inside.

They were climbing a stone staircase when Tweed asked Jansen the question.

'Was a girl seen among the intruders?'

'Yes, quite young. Early twenties. Had her face masked with a coloured handkerchief. Again, descriptions varied to the point of futility.'

'Was she also carrying a gun?'

'No one asked that question. I think one of the guests who were thrown out would have mentioned it. They mentioned a girl – as though surprised. These days!'

'Could she have been taken in under duress?'

'I don't think so. One witness – a woman, of course -said she matched in as though she owned the place.'

'Why are you so interested in this girl?' Newman asked.

He had caught up with Tweed on one side while Paula joined them on the other. Jansen was climbing nimbly higher to yet another floor.

'I am thinking of Lara Seagrave, the girl I cross-examined in Smiths' tea-room in Paris, the girl whose bitch of a step-mother-Lady Windermere -I visited in London. The girl The Parrot was following all the way from Marseilles, watching her take photos of different ports. The girl whom, I'm convinced, set out on this thinking it was all an adventure. Why Klein still needs her I can't imagine.'

They had at rived. Jansen paused before a metal fire door which was guarded by a uniformed policeman. He waited until they had reached him before he issued his warning.

'We're going out on to the roof. Crouch low, move slowly. We don't want those people inside Euromast to spot us – someone may be scanning the whole area with binoculars…'

The roof was a flat concrete surface surrounded by waist-high walls. Stooping low, Tweed followed Jansen. The silhouettes of a large number of men were scattered in different positions. The majority close to the wall nearest Parkhaven.

Jansen led him to where a tripod had been erected. A telescope was mounted on the tripod. Further along the wall stood a second tripod supporting a cine-camera with a zoom lens. A man crouched behind the camera.

'This observation point is the nearest we can get,' Jansen explained. 'The telescope gives us a clear view of the platform.'

'But hasn't there been any communication from them?' Tweed asked, squatting on his haunches. 'And how would you respond?'

'No communication at all.' Jansen sounded depressed. 'Except when a couple of my men approached the tower and they reacted with a machine-gun burst. As a warning to keep away. Since then an awful silence.'

'Klein tactics,' Tweed repeated, turning to Van Gorp who was crouched beside him. 'It's the prelude – to unnerve us.'

'Answering your second question,' Jansen went on, 'we have brought in a police van with an amplified speaker. Parked behind an empty truck to shield it from the tower. No reaction to that – except for a call to speak to someone in high authority.'

Tweed looked at Van Gorp who flexed his hands before he spoke. 'I'd better go out there and try to get Klein talking – if he is up there.'

'Oh, he's up there, all right.' Tweed's tone was brisk. 'But I think I'm the one to attempt it. I'm beginning to know how his mind works. I've had secret reports on his background and character. Before I go I'd like to call my colleague, Blade, at the airport, arrange for the SAS team to be brought near here. They'll need quarters on their own – with no contacts with the police.'

'We may have just what you need,' said Jansen. Til show you…'

He waited while Tweed took a quick look through the telescope. The platform appeared deserted. He swung the lens a few degrees and the restaurant came into view. All the lights were still on but over a number of windows there were hangings obscuring the interior. Either curtains had been drawn or they'd used table cloths. Figures moved beyond the clear windows and vanished.

'Don't go,' said Paula. 'It's too dangerous, Klein is crazy.'

'Maybe a little, but I'm going.'

'And I'm coming with you,' Newman said, still holding the rifle. He gave Paula a wink of reassurance.

The quarters Jansen suggested for use by the SAS team were one floor down, at the back of the building. Four rooms – with a bathroom – separated from the rest of the building. Over the windows blinds were drawn down. Tweed agreed they were suitable, Jansen produced a street plan, marked the route the team should follow, said he would send a motor-cycle outrider to escort them and then left Tweed alone to use the phone perched on a rough wooden table.

'Blade,' he said when he got through, 'situation here at Euromast serious. An armed group has taken possession. No, they didn't take hostages – just threw everyone out. A motor-cycle outrider is coming to guide you here with your team. I'll give him a note signed by me. It will include the word Olympus.'

'I'll get the lads geared up ready now. Somewhere we can wait? Discreetly?'

'Attended to.'

'Be with you shortly…'

Tweed sat motionless at the table for a few moments, thinking of his approach when he reached the tower.