Newman. 'I'm feeling peckish, Bob.'
`Then let's try the Grill Room.'
As they stood up Helen threw one more verbal javelin, glaring at Burgoyne.
`If you're having lunch here too, I can recommend the Haerlin restaurant…'
Tweed and Paula stepped out of the elevator and immediately Paula spotted Burgoyne, who was still sitting with a cup of coffee in front of him. She nudged Tweed.
`I've seen him. Let's go and have a little chat with our eminent soldier.'
To her surprise the Brigadier smiled as though he welcomed their company. She was even more surprised when he jumped up, offered her a chair.
`Miss Grey, you are looking positively radiant. I like your suit. Very chic.'
`Thank you.' She sat down slightly dazed at the absence of Burgoyne's normal brusque manner. Tweed chose a seat placing him between them. 'They've left you on your own?' Paula suggested.
`I'm afraid so,' he replied, sitting down next to her. 'I don't appear to be very popular. Would you do me the honour of joining me in an aperitif?'
Paula stared, taken aback by the politeness. 'A glass of dry French white would go down nicely.' Burgoyne glanced at Tweed, who chose mineral water.
Burgoyne raised a hand, beckoned with his index finger to a waiter. Oh dear, Paula thought, reverting to type – dealing with the peasants. She had a further surprise.
`Could you be good enough to fetch us a glass of French wine, mineral water, and I'd be grateful for a double Scotch?'
`I hope we're not spoiling a few minutes on your own while you ruminated on a business problem,' Tweed remarked.
`On the contrary, it's a change to enjoy pleasant company. I've just had a vicious duel of words with Helen Claybourne. She's gone to lunch with your Robert Newman. She banned me from taking my own lunch in the Grill Room.'
`Doesn't sound like the Helen I've met,' Paula commented. 'I wonder what was wrong?'
`Ah! You don't know the real Helen. That outward coolness fools everybody. Underneath she's a ruthless tigress.'
`That's interesting,' Tweed interjected. 'It sounds very much as though she's taken a dislike to you. If so, why on earth does she travel with you?'
`Willie…' He paid the waiter, added a generous tip, and sighed. 'Willie,' he repeated. 'She appears to feel her job involves looking after him. Which is amusing. Master Willie is only too capable of looking after Number One.'
`He seems so indecisive,' Paula said.
`That is the impression he creates, I agree. In business, as well as earlier in the Army…' He paused and looked at Tweed. 'I learned never to take people at face value. You can come badly unstuck if you do. But I'm sure the insurance game has taught you that…'
They chatted for a while and then Tweed said he was taking Paula out for a breath of fresh air. They put on their coats they had propped over chairs, thanked Burgoyne for his hospitality. Again it was a thoughtful Tweed who left the hotel with Paula at his side.
`He seemed to be making a show of pointing the finger at Willie,' Paula observed as they crossed the road towards the lakeside walk.
And very adroitly done,' Tweed agreed.
The white Volvo pulled up behind them with a screech of burning rubber. Tweed grabbed Paula round the waist, ready to shove her ahead of him and tell her to run.
`No need to call the police,' a familiar voice growled.
They swung round and Kuhlmann was stepping out of the front passenger seat, leaving his driver behind the wheel. He removed the unlit cigar from his mouth and jiggled it up and down like a conductor's baton to emphasize what he was saying.
`A fresh development. Didn't think it wise to talk over the phone when you're so close to Berliner Tor.'
`What's happened?' Tweed asked.
`Thirty minutes ago Dr Wand took off in his Lear jet from Hamburg bound for Kastrup Airport, Copenhagen.'
`That's very satisfactory. Thank you, Otto. Things seem to be working out as I foresaw. By the way, did Wand take Jules Starmberg with him?'
`No, definitely not. I dug out old photos of that villainous Luxemburger from the time when his wife was murdered. Gave them to the men watching the Lear.'
No alarm bells rang for Tweed at this information. He was too absorbed in racing over in his mind the precautions he had taken.
`And your present plan?' Kuhlmann asked.
`We are flying to Copenhagen ourselves this evening, and your co-operation has been invaluable. I've had two intriguing conversations recently.'
`Which you won't tell me about. Play it your own way. You always do.'
`Something's just struck me – I must contact Nielsen at Copenhagen police headquarters…'
`I've already done it.' Kuhlmann grinned. 'By now he will have plain-clothes men waiting at Kastrup for the Lear to land. They'll follow Wand, find out where he holes up. I'd say that wraps it up for now.'
`You think of everything. Thank you again…'
Tweed and Paula resumed their walk along the footpath by the Binnen Alster lake. They were walking through a parkland of green grassy slopes and trees. The sound of the traffic was muffled. For Paula it was dreamlike after her experience at Blankenese harbour. No one else was about as they wandered on in the chill air and the sunlight.
`It's a beautiful city,' Paula enthused. 'I love the green roofs of those magnificent old buildings across the lake. I suppose the roofs were once copper and have turned that colour with exposure to the elements.'
`I imagine so,' agreed Tweed.
`It's such a green city. And I love those mansard rooftops – they're so elegant. We hardly ever see them back home.'
The path curved, following the lake, and they walked under a small bridge arch. Ahead of them was a marina and an even vaster stretch of water. As Paula slipped her arm in his Tweed nodded towards the new lake.
`This is the Aussen Alster, the larger of the two lakes. You can walk for miles but I think we'd better turn back.'
`Lord, I'm revelling in the peace,' she said as they returned along the silent footpath while a breeze trawled shoals of water towards the bank.
Newman, Tweed, and Paula had an incredibly early one- course dinner in the Grill Room. Newman was always insistent on allowing plenty of time to catch a flight. Tweed would have left it to the last minute – to avoid hanging about Hamburg Airport waiting for the Copenhagen flight.
Even at that early hour they had company at a nearby table. Burgoyne and Lee, Willie and Helen, were eating a leisurely meal. Burgoyne sent over a bottle of Laurent Perrier with his compliments.
`Nice of him,' Paula commented. 'Can't think what's got into him – he's become so human.'
`Camouflage,' Newman decided. 'Incidentally, I had a chat with Helen in the lounge area before I took her here to lunch…'
He described the scene between Helen and Burgoyne. Tweed, drinking mineral water, listened with interest. Newman and Paula demolished the bottle of champagne together. It was near the end of their meal when Lee, wearing another of her off-the-shoulder dresses, wandered towards them, holding a glass of red wine.
`I'd say physically Lee was very strong,' Paula remarked.
`And she's as high as a kite,' Newman added.
`Dear Mr Tweed' – Lee leant over him, her bare arm round his shoulders – 'I need some stimulating company. Take me out for a drink later? Please!'
`I'm sorry, but we're-' Tweed began.
That was when Lee tilted her glass and a cascade of red wine poured over his suit jacket. Lee was appalled.
