Precipice

'You must have back-up. Very heavy back-up.' Newman insisted.

'We'll see.' Tweed repeated as he stood up and quickly put on his coat. 'Now I must hurry…'

'You didn't tell us who you were going to see.' Paula said anxiously.

'Sorry, I had my mind on something else. My first outing is to see Miss Maggie Mayfield. I've reserved a room at Brown's Hotel so we can have privacy.'

'Who on earth is she?'

'General Sterndale's niece and only surviving relative. She was due to stay with him on the night the mansion was burned down – but had a bad cold so she never went.'

'And your second appointment?' Paula went on.

'With Professor Grogarty in Harley Street. Does that name ring a bell with anyone?'

'Greatest living all-round scientist.' said Newman.

'Which reminds me.' Tweed said to Monica. 'I'll need that list of twenty missing scientists you drew up which shows each one's speciality.'

Monica handed him a file. He looked round the room as he tucked it under his arm.

'When I return we may have a better idea of what exactly is going on. Grogarty is eccentric, but a genius…'

In his Berne office Brazil had put down the phone after attempting to speak to Tweed and stared into space. His reaction was oddly like a mannerism of Tweed's. Jose kept quiet for a few minutes before speaking.

'He was not available then, sir?'

'I can't be sure, but I think Tweed was listening in to every word. I sensed his presence while his assistant fed me lies, said he was away.'

'A very elusive man, our Mr Tweed.' Jose remarked.

'It makes me even more anxious to meet him again -and for a really deep conversation this time. I suspect he knows that. I'm counting on the word 'catastrophe' I used to fester in his mind.'

'And in the meantime we wait?'

'We do not!' boomed Brazil, standing up behind his desk and gazing down at his assistant. 'We proceed with our project which will not be ready for a few days at the earliest. I want you to phone Konrad and tell him all is proceeding according to plan. Konrad, a peculiar code name for a Russian, for Karov, the real man of power.'

Tweed shook hands with Maggie Mayfield in the private room at Brown's. A plain woman in her forties, plump but with a strikingly intelligent face and shrewd brown eyes, she smiled.

'I'm sorry to have kept you waiting,' Tweed began.

'I always arrive ten minutes early for appointments.' She grinned wickedly. 'I have been known to turn up at an embarrassing moment. Now, how can I help you?'

They sat down and she poured coffee for both of them. Tweed had taken off his coat and they faced each other across a small oblong antique table.

'After the tragedy at Sterndale Manor I was present when the police retrieved the large safe you told me about. The contents had been burned to ashes but my people are working on a technique to bring up what was written on them.'

'Rubbish. It will be rubbish.'

'Why are you so certain of that?'

'Because when I phoned my uncle to tell him I could not come to his home I also asked him if the bearer bonds had been returned. After all, he told me they were on loan to a remarkable man to finance a project which would make Europe a safer place.'

'He gave you the name of this so-called remarkable man?'

'No. He refused point-blank. Said that was his affair. But he did tell me the bonds would be back in the safe by the end of the month. It's nearly the end of February now.'

'How long ago was this phone conversation you had with the General?'

'Two days ago. I'm recovering from my cold, but as you can probably tell it's still with me.'

'So you doubt very much whether the bonds would have been in the safe when the fire took place?'

'Absolutely certain. I know – knew – him well. And to reassure me I think he said the end of the month when he probably meant the end of March.'

'You did once see that the bonds were kept in the safe?'

'Yes, as I told you on the phone he once opened it in my presence. I can remember his exact words. 'Would you like to see three hundred million pounds, the bulk of the bank's capital?' He then opened the safe, which was stuffed with folders. He opened one and showed me one of the bearer bonds. I was staggered at the amount one bond alone was worth. Issued by some huge oil company – I forget which one. That, of course, was before he loaned them to this unknown man.'

'Can you remember the colour of the folders?'

'Yes. They were the old concertina type – with separate sections. The colour was a faded green. I had the feeling they'd lain there inside that safe for years.'

'And you still think this enormous sum wasn't the total capital of the bank?'

'No, the General went out of his way to explain that all the different branches had their own funds and assets, more than enough to keep them going.'

'And you believed him?' Tweed asked quietly.

'Oh, yes.' She smiled wanly. 'My uncle was an honest man. He'd never have deprived the branches of their own funds. He'd feel he had a duty to the depositors who used the branches to guard their security.'

'If you had been able to accept his invitation to stay at the manor that night am I right in thinking his only remaining relatives would have been there? And the only three people who knew he had loaned the bonds to someone?'

'Yes, you are right. Richard, his son, also knew about the bonds and didn't like what he had done.' She drank more coffee and stared at Tweed as she put down the cup. 'You're thinking that if I'd been there no one would have been left who knew about those bonds, aren't you?'

'Well, yes.' Tweed was admiring her as a gutsy lady. 'So who else knew you were coming?'

'Only Marchat, who acted as butler, cook, cleaner -you name it. A nice, very quiet little man.'

'Could he have talked to anyone about your visit -and the fact that what remained of the family would be in the manor that night?'

'I don't see why not. Marchat used to visit a pub in the evenings, a pub in Wareham. He wouldn't see any reason to keep it a secret. I gathered that after a couple of drinks he'd become quite talkative.'

'Miss Mayfield, I'd better warn you that a man from the Yard, Chief Inspector Roy Buchanan, is bound to interview you sooner or later. Tell him everything you've told me – except the last bit you've just told me about Marchat. And emphasize the bank will stay solvent, that the branches are all right. Once information like that -about the bonds – starts getting known it could cause a panic.'

'I'll tell him. He's already phoned me at my home and said he'd like to see me soon.'

'Thank you for giving me your time.' Tweed said, and he helped her on with her coat. 'You've been very helpful.'

She turned round and stared at him. Her lips trembled, then her mouth became firm and she had a very determined look.

'I've heard rumours, Mr Tweed. Read accounts in the newspapers. Was my uncle murdered?'

'Yes. There's no doubt about that. Sorry to put it so bluntly, but I think you're the sort of woman who prefers frankness.'

'I do. And I thank you for being frank.' She hesitated. 'Is there any chance that the person or people responsible will ever be brought to justice?'

'I'm working on it personally. If I ever do prove who did it I'll see they pay the ultimate penalty. Don't ever repeat what I've just said.'

'I won't. Again, thank you.' she said, holding out her hand.

'One final question. Have you any idea of the nationality of Mr Marchat?'

'Yes. He was Swiss. Very hard workers, the Swiss…'

On his way in a cab to see Professor Grogarty Tweed's mind was in a whirl. He liked Maggie Mayfield. She was the sort of woman he suspected he could marry if she were willing. But of course his wife, who had long ago