his hand he gestured for them all to move into the stone-flagged courtyard as the automatically operated gates swung inwards. Paula joined him as they walked swiftly towards the large stone porch which appeared to be the main entrance.
'Has something disturbed you?' she asked.
He pointed towards the right-hand comer of the huge stone facade which reared above them. Parked almost out of sight was a white BMW.
'Looks very much like Gaunt's,' Paula commented.
'I think we'll find it is Gaunt's…'
Amberg himself, again neatly dressed in a black business suit, opened the heavy door to let Tweed, Paula and Newman inside. Paula blinked at the vastness of the entrance hall, at the poor illumination provided by the sconces on the walls. Amberg stroked a hand across his well-brushed hair after closing and locking the door.
'Will you please excuse me for a few minutes? I can hear the phone going and I'm expecting an important call. Eve has come for a business discussion. Gaunt, who brought her, will take you to her. A little pleasant company in my absence…'
Gaunt, who greeted them as though their arrival was the most natural event, led them through a series of stone passages and up and down flights of ancient stone steps. As he led the way he called back to them as though he owned the place.
'Remarkable place, this chateau. Of course the Yankee who had it built on the basis of old plans was mad as a hatter. But he was Yankee to the core. Show you some of the bathrooms later. Now, ladies and gentlemen, we are about to enter the largest bathroom of all,' he boomed.
His voice echoed back along the labyrinth of passages they had walked through. Paula was dying to tell him to cut down on the decibels. Gaunt had paused before a pair of large double doors shaped like a Norman arch. With a grandiloquent gesture, he opened both of them, gestured for them to enter. Tweed nodded to Paula to go ahead in front of him. She did so and stopped abruptly, suppressing a gasp of astonishment.
She was gazing at a vast swimming pool, entirely constructed of marble. Enclosed under an arched roof, the marble covered all the surrounding surfaces. A figure was swimming in the pool, racing up and down the full length with powerful breast-strokes.
Eve Amberg had tucked her titian hair inside a black cap and was clad in a one-piece black bathing costume. She waved to Paula as she reached one end, paused at the foot of a ladder, called out to her.
'Welcome to Valhalla! Be with you in a minute. I have to complete thirty lengths. Make yourselves comfortable in those chairs…'
Then she was off again. As Tweed and Newman walked over to comfortable chairs round a table, Paula watched Eve. The Englishwoman was an incredibly strong swimmer. Her long limbs glided through the greenish water, her slim arms moved like pistons. Thirty lengths! I couldn't do that, Paula thought, and I'm a few years younger than she is. As she wandered towards the table Eve reached the ladder, paused, shinned up it, stood on the edge of the pool, reached for a large towel. Drying her shoulders, she stripped off her cap and her mane cascaded down her back.
'You look stunning,' Paula commented as she sat down at the table.
'Thank you, Paula. After that, I do feel good.'
Eve had a flair for clothes, Paula mused. With her titian hair the black one-piece costume was a perfect choice. Gaunt, who had stood by the side of the pool, watching her with his arms folded, joined the others at the table. There was a whole array of glasses, bottles and one decanter.
'I'm mine host,' Gaunt announced. 'Amberg was involved with yet another phone call when we arrived, showed us the way to this palace of pleasures. Talking of pleasure, who's for a double Scotch to get things going?'
'I'll have a glass of Riesling,' Eve called out. Tweed, maybe you'd pour me a glass – providing you pour one for yourself. It's good Riesling.'
'Certainly,' Tweed replied. 'You brought a swimming costume with you?' he suggested conversationally as he poured two glasses.
'I did. This pool is heated. I used to swim here when poor Julius brought me here from time to time. Hate the rest of the place. Like a blasted mausoleum. But the pool is terrific.'
She had towelled herself all over, brought another dry towel to sit on. She stood very erect while she answered Tweed's question.
'I'll go change into something decent in a few minutes, but if you don't mind me like this I'm gasping for some wine.'
'I don't mind you like that at all,' Newman told her and smiled.'Feel free to join us.'
'I suppose you're both here on a social visit,' Tweed suggested after raising his glass to Eve.
'You know jolly well I'm not,' she rebuked him, following it up with a winning smile. 'Business is business.'
'And you, Gaunt?' Tweed enquired, turning in his seat to the large figure occupying the seat next to him.
'I'm here to find out who used my manor as a blood bath…' Gaunt had lowered his tone so only Tweed could hear. 'I'm not leaving until Amberg has put on his picture show, with talkies.'
'He's admitted he has those items here?' Tweed queried in a whisper.
Newman, sensing the two men wanted to talk in secrecy, was joking in a loud voice, causing Paula and Eve to become near-hysterical.
'Not exactly,' Gaunt confessed in the same grim tone. 'He can be very evasive, very Swiss in the least complimentary sense.'
'Then I'll have to talk to him. By myself. Now would be a good moment if I knew where to find him.'
'Show you the way.' Gaunt stood up, bent down as he added the remark, 'Suspect you and I are on the same side in this one.'
I wonder, Tweed thought, but he smiled agreement as he stood up. Gaunt explained to the others that they had a bit of business to discuss with Amberg, hoped they'd excuse their absence.
'Take all day as far as I'm concerned,' Newman assured him breezily. 'I'm more than happy chatting with two interesting women. .'
Gaunt left Tweed in the strange quarters Amberg used as his office, the vast room with the raised dais and behind it the huge picture window with a panoramic view down over the Vosges, across the flat plain to the distant hump which was the Black Forest in Germany.
Still standing, Tweed studied the small, portly Swiss with his black hair slicked back over his high forehead - no parting – and the thick brows above the shrewd blue eyes. Did he always wear this depressing black suit? Tweed asked himself.
'Please sit down,' Amberg invited, indicating the low chair placed beneath the dais.
'Thank you. I'm sure you won't mind if I join you,' Tweed said at his most amiable.
Picking up the chair, he stepped up on to the dais, walked round the large desk, planted the chair next to Amberg's and sat down, facing him.
'What is the problem?' Amberg asked in a peevish tone. 'I haven't a lot of time.'
'You have all the time in the world,' Tweed assured him, 'but first I want to view the film, listen to the tape - the two items Joel Dyson left with you for safekeeping.'
'I don't understand what you're talking about,' snapped the Swiss, and he pursed his thin lips.
'I'm talking about murder on a grand scale. Mass murder at Tresillian Manor in Cornwall.' Tweed's manner was no longer amiable. 'I'm talking about the murders of Helen Frey, her friend Klara and the private investigator, Theo Strebel. All of which took place on your home patch – in Zurich.' He paused. Amberg stared back at him with a blank expression, but Tweed thought he detected a hint of alarm in those blank eyes. 'Theo Strebel was an ex- member of the Zurich Homicide force, a close friend of Arthur Beck who, as you know, is Chief of the Swiss Federal Police at the Taubenhalde in Berne. Beck also happens to be a close friend of mine. So produce the film and the tape or Beck will be waiting for you the moment you return to Zurich. Which is it to be?'
Unusually, Tweed had fired all his guns in one massive verbal barrage. The effect was electrifying.
'It is a question of ethics,' Amberg began in a feeble tone. 'Joel Dyson gave us those items to keep for him.'
'Forget the ethics. Didn't you know? Dyson may be dead. He hasn't been seen alive since he visited your bank
