Philip and Paula had registered as Tweed entered the lobby and a porter had taken their bags to a lift and disappeared. Relieved to see her, Tweed kissed Paula on the cheek.
'We've had lunch. That is, Bob and I.'
'You unpacked your suitcases first?' Paula enquired.
'Well, no,' Tweed confessed. 'A porter took them up to our rooms and we went straight to the dining room.'
'You should have gone up to your rooms first.' she chided him. 'At least you should have opened your cases, taken out jackets and hung them up. Everything will be creased and crumpled.'
'That's what Jean always insisted on.' Philip recalled. 'Tweed, I need to talk to you. There's a crisis.'
'I need food.' said Paula.
'You go and eat and I'll join you later.' Philip told her as they all entered a lift.
Tweed accompanied Philip to his room while Paula went along the corridor to hers in the opposite direction. Inside the bedroom, which overlooked Bahnhofplatz, Philip began unpacking swiftly as he talked while Tweed sat in a chair.
'We met Archie in Berne…' he began and then informed Tweed of everything that had happened in that city. When he had concluded by describing their experience with Bill Franklin and the thug in the alley, he turned to Tweed.
'I haven't unpacked everything because I'm leaving by myself soon.'
'Are you? May I ask why and where?' Tweed enquired with an edge to his voice.
'Archie's last words were that we shouldn't overlook Anton Marchat, who apparently lives in the Valais. At Sion. He gave me Marchat's address. We heard on the radio, driving here, that all the mountain passes are still closed. So I'll hand in my hired car and catch a train to Geneva.'
'Why Geneva? You could catch an express en route at the Lausanne stop.'
'No, Geneva.' Philip said stubbornly. 'Then I can board the express where it starts – that way I see who else gets on. If I'm followed I want to know who is after me -so I can deal with them later. I don't want you to tell Paula until I've gone. She'll try and come with me.'
Philip looked at the clothes he had hung up, blinked, walked to the window to gaze out with his back to Tweed and his hands in his trouser pockets. Tweed realized he was upset. Memories. Thinking back to the times he and Jean had travelled together. Philip blew his nose loudly.
Tweed was in a quandary. His instinct was to order Philip to stay in Zurich where he had the company and protection of his friends. But if he did that Philip would immediately think Tweed was pampering him, still did not trust him to strike out on his own because of emotional instability. I'll have to let him go, he thought.
'Philip.' he said when his team member had come back from the window, his mouth tight. 'There is information provided by Beck, Chief of the Federal Police, which I think you ought to know…'
He explained what Beck had told him and Newman about the influx of fake tourists into Geneva. How they had boarded expresses travelling east with their ultimate destination, Milan – but travelling via the Valais.
'There you are.' Philip exclaimed, 'again a reference to the Valais. And Archie so far has proved a most reliable informant. Marler wouldn't use him if he wasn't first class.'
'Yes.' Tweed agreed. 'I'd better tell you all the data we have.'
He tersely recalled Professor Grogarty's opinion of the list of missing scientists; his theory as to what such a team of the world's top-flight scientists could be used to create; about Lasalle's calls from Paris, the satellite launched by Ariane in French Guiana, the photos Grogarty had examined of the satellite prior to launch, his conclusions.
'I still can't imagine what significance the Valais could have.' Tweed mused. 'It's a wild, desolate region and there's nothing there.'
'So maybe.' said Philip, 'bearing in mind what you have just told me, it's the location of the ground station controlling the satellite which seems to worry so many people.'
When he entered the Hotel Gotthard and asked for Marler Newman was given a room number. The door was opened cautiously by the sturdy Butler, even though Newman had rapped on it with a familiar tattoo. When he got inside Newman understood why.
'Welcome to the arms dump.' said Marler, looking fresh as paint.
A cloth was spread out across a double bed and the contents of two large canvas bags were spread out. Newman stared.
'Are you getting ready to start a small war?' he asked.
'That's almost the same question Rico Sava asked me.' Marler said with a grin.
Newman's expression became poker-faced. He realized Marler would not have heard the news of the murder of Sava at the hands of The Motorman. And Marler had liked Sava. Bad news can wait, he decided.
Arranged on the cloth was a large array of tear-gas pistols with plenty of spare shells, a. 38 Smith amp; Wesson Special revolver with ammo, five 7.65mm Walther automatics with an ample supply of magazines, a large number of grenades, both stun and shrapnel, a generous amount of smoke bombs, a. 32 Browning automatic for Paula, several pairs of small high-power binoculars, and an Armalite rifle, Marler's favourite weapon.
'How the devil did you smuggle this lot here safely? Supposing you had been stopped by a patrol car? I assume you drove here?'
'I did. They'd have seen these.'
Marler picked up the two canvas bags he had zipped up. At one end of each of the bags protruded the heel of an ice-skate.
'I doubt if they'd have even asked when they saw those.' Marler remarked. 'If they had I'd have said it was equipment for a party going up into the mountains.'
'Clever, I'll give you that. And when I've told you what happened when I was walking with Tweed, not long ago in this city of peace, I think you'll hand out tear-gas pistols…'
A few minutes later Newman was equipped with his Smith amp; Wesson inside a hip holster Marler had provided. He also had concealed inside his bulky suede coat a tear-gas pistol, as had the others. He also carried certain extra armoury in a small canvas holdall Marler gave him.
I'm off back to the Schweizerhof,' he announced. 'And Marler, I think it might be an idea if you and Butler mooched round Bahnhofplatz to give back-up.' He turned to Nield, who had sat in a chair smoking a cigarette and saying nothing. 'Pete, you stay here as a reserve. If you want to peek into Bahnhofplatz every now and again that's your decision…'
Eve, on Brazil's instructions, had arrived at the Baur-en-Ville Hotel, located near Parade-Platz, roughly halfway down Bahnhofplatz before it reached Zurichsee, Lake Zurich. She approved of the luxury of the hotel. After unpacking her bag, and drinking several glasses of vodka from the bottle she'd ordered from room service, she felt bored.
Against Brazil's instructions, she had walked out into Bahnhofstrasse with a scarf wrapped round her jet- black hair. She also wore a pair of tinted glasses which, with the scarf, completely altered her normal appearance. She spent some time gazing into the treasure house of shop windows displaying jewels, watches, expensive clothes.
Eventually she bought a matching gold jacket and skirt. The cost took most of the five thousand francs she had prised out of Craig. With the carrier bag over her arm she walked slowly up towards Bahnhofplatz.
I'm going to have to get some more money from someone, she was thinking.
The large salary which Brazil paid her disappeared within days on clothes and cosmetics. She was strolling along slowly when she almost stopped, but forced herself to keep moving at a leisurely pace. Newman had just walked out of the Hotel Gotthard, carrying a small holdall.
'So, I've got lucky.' she said to herself. 'Stuff Mr Brazil and his stay-in-the-hotel routine. I smell more money…'
She followed Newman as he turned into Bahnhofplatz and watched him enter the Schweizerhof.
Across the far side of Bahnhofplatz, standing just inside the station, Keith Kent munched a sandwich, then paused as he was about to take another bite.
