'So do I.' agreed Paula.
Philip paid for their breakfast and Archie's coffee. He stood up and spoke quietly as he put on his coat.
'Archie, you look after yourself. The wolves are on the prowl.'
'I want to remind you both of something.' Archie replied, ignoring the warning. 'Don't forget Anton Marchat down in the Valais…'
Standing at her window, which overlooked Kochergasse, Eve had watched Brazil leaving. Later she had been puzzled when she saw Craig and three other men, including the hateful Gustav, driving off the same way in a Volvo.
Why wasn't Craig driving behind the limo to act as protection for Brazil, which was the normal procedure? Was Craig up to something underhand, playing his own game again as she knew he frequently did, concealing his actions from Brazil. She rubbed her hands together. She would wait and see if she heard a rumour about what was going on. She might be able to claw another five thousand francs out of the detestable Craig.
Then she stiffened. Even though masked from the road by thick net curtains, she almost took a step back, then froze. Movement might betray her presence. She could hardly believe her eyes.
Philip and Paula Grey had emerged from the entrance to the Bellevue Palace. She heard someone come into the room, glanced over her shoulder. Marco, one of the guards, was unlocking a drawer. Swiftly he took out a long knife, slipped it into a sheath attached to his belt.
'Marco!' she called out urgently. 'Come here quickly. Don't disturb the curtains…'
'What is it?'
Marco was already by her side. She pointed to Philip and Paula as they walked towards the underground garage.
'See those two? Follow them. They are enemies of Mr Brazil
'I'm on my way.'
Paula was walking alongside Philip close to the ramp which descended to the garage where their car was parked, when she slipped. Philip saved her and then she froze. She kept him still under the lee of a wall, nodded.
On the opposite side of the road a tall man dressed like a Russian with a fur coat and a fur hat was striding along. Philip stared, opened his mouth to speak, but Paula spoke first.
'That's Bill Franklin. I recognize his walk. What's he doing in Berne? Let's find out.'
'He's gone into a pharmacy. There's a queue at the counter. I'm going to nip down and make sure our car is all right.'
'Berne is like a rabbit warren,' she protested.
But Philip had already run down the ramp and didn't hear her. She stood in a fever of impatience, sure that Franklin would come out before Philip got back. She was relieved when Philip reappeared a couple of minutes later, running back up the ramp.
Pretending to study the menu of the Bistro, the Bellevue Palace's restaurant, for a quick meal, Marco saw Philip disappear and frowned. Obviously he was going to check with the garage attendant to see if he could find out where Brazil was being driven to.
Marco, pencil thin with a face as white as death, was always suspicious, putting the worst interpretation on the actions of anyone he was following. His suspicion was confirmed when he saw Philip hurrying back up the ramp two minutes later.
The target had obviously bribed the attendant to tell him Brazil's destination. Otherwise he would have been in the garage longer if the attendant had been close-mouthed. There would have been a long argument.
'He's still inside the pharmacy,' Paula reported.
'Let's cross the street while we can. Trams come over the bridge above the River Aare.'
They had just crossed when a small green tram rumbled over the bridge. Franklin came out of the pharmacy, looked round, waited until there was no traffic where several roads met, then strode over to the Munstergasse, a quiet cobbled street which descended to the great stone bulk of the Munster, a towering edifice with a tall spire that dominated Berne.
On the side he walked were arcades roofed over the pavement. Philip and Paula followed him slowly, stopping briefly to look in shop windows. There were bakery shops, picture dealers, antiques shops, and a patisserie. Underfoot the cobbles were treacherous, coated with a sheen of ice. The temperature was below zero.
Behind them Marco, wearing a brown leather coat which hung open so he could reach his knife quickly, trudged along. They had all passed several ancient narrow alleys leading off the pavement when Franklin suddenly vanished.
'Where on earth has he gone?' wondered Philip.
'Keep walking and we'll find out.' Paula insisted.
They reached another very narrow alley, not wide enough for two people to pass each other. Peering down it into the gloom they saw the fur-coated figure appear to walk inside a wall. They moved faster inside the alley, using their hands to hold against the walls to avoid slipping.
The alley had become very dark. Paula glanced up at the space between the roofs of the ancient buildings which leaned towards each other, leaving only little more than a slit. The sky above was shrouded in dense low clouds, black as pitch, and heavy snow began to fall.
'That's where he went in,' said Paula just before they reached a bend in the alley which concealed the street beyond running parallel to Munstergasse.
Inside a small alcove two stone steps, worn down the ages in the middle by generations of footsteps, led up to a closed door. The plate beside the door read Emil Voigt -Sachwalter. There were no windows above the door.
'He's gone to visit a lawyer,' said Paula. 'I think I ought to go ahead into the next street in case he goes that way when he comes out. You go back to Munstergasse. We'll meet up at the entrance to the garage when one of us finds out where he goes to.'
'Good idea.'
Paula had just disappeared round the bend in the alley, Philip was turning to go the other way when through the falling snow he saw a slim figure clad in a brown leather coat approaching him.
'You are a spy,' Marco shouted in heavy guttural German. 'You were trying to find out where Mr Brazil was going to. You are his enemy!'
Ever impetuous, Marco whipped out his long knife and lunged towards Philip. His action, Marco felt sure, would earn him praise from Craig, perhaps even promotion. Reaching for his Walther, Philip took several swift steps backwards, felt his feet slipping on sheet ice, toppled over backwards, saving his head by jerking his shoulders upwards. Marco raised his knife to plunge it into the sprawled body, took two steps forward, skidded on the same patch of ice, fell against the wall.
Paula appeared. She had heard Marco shouting his threats. As he began to scramble to his feet Paula brought down the butt of her Browning on his skull. Marco collapsed and this time he lay still, made no attempt to regain his balance. The snow falling matched his deathly white face.
'I think we'll forget Franklin.' Philip said quickly, climbing upright with one hand supporting himself by holding on to the wall. 'Time we moved off to Zurich. Franklin is going to have a surprise when he does come out. And thank you – for saving my life…'
25
Eve was fretting at being confined to the villa. It had been Brazil's express order that she should not leave the building. She had never been in Berne before and she was dying to go out and look at the shops. Besides, the five thousand francs she had taken off Craig was burning a hole in her shoulder bag. When Eve had money she spent it. And she had interesting news to tell Brazil – that she had spotted Paula Grey and Philip on Kochergasse.
She'd just had the thought when the phone rang. She ran to it, curious to know what was going on.
