He saw Newman appear, walking quickly, disappear inside the Schweizerhof. But what caught his attention was a woman in a headscarf who seemed to drift along until she reached the corner, pausing to peer round the corner as Newman entered the hotel.
Keith Kent had trained himself to be a first-class observer. There was something in the woman's movements which told him she was tailing Newman. She stood at the comer, adjusting her scarf, when a blast of bitter wind caught her and tore the scarf off her head; only her quick grab prevented her from losing it. But for a few moments her head was fully exposed. Kent gazed at the jet-hair moulded close to her skull like a helmet.
'Something is going on here.' he said to himself.
Newman checked with the concierge in the lobby.
'Miss Grey is in the dining room.' he was told. 'Mr Tweed is still upstairs. He went up with a friend.'
'Mr Cardon, you mean?'
'Yes, sir.'
'I've forgotten their room numbers…'
The concierge obliged, gave him both room numbers. On the second floor Newman first tried pressing the bell outside the door of Tweed's room. When he got no reply he went back to Philip's room. Tweed opened the door a few inches, then opened it wide.
'How are the others?' he asked. 'Have they all arrived? And what have you got in that holdall you didn't have with you when you left me?'
'Is Philip going somewhere?' Newman asked.
He posed the question because Philip was fully dressed to go out and had just picked up his case. Tweed gestured for Newman to sit down.
'Yes.' he said. 'Philip is going to take the train to Geneva, then an express from there to Sion in the Valais. He feels he should visit Anton Marchat since Archie was so insistent Marchat was contacted.'
'By yourself?' asked Newman.
'Yes. Why not?' Philip demanded aggressively.
'Just a simple question, which you've answered. Are you armed? From the little I've heard the Valais is a lonely place.'
'I've got a Walther, thanks.'
'Here's another, with spare ammo.' Newman had opened his holdall. He paused as Philip took what he'd offered. 'If you run into trouble stun grenades can come in rather useful.'
He produced several, rewrapped in polythene by Marler. Philip unfastened his bag, carefully packed the grenades under clothes, closed the bag, looked at Newman.
'I'm grateful, Bob.'
'Have you a way of getting in touch with us?' Newman checked.
'Yes. Tweed is letting Monica know wherever he may be. Leaving her a phone number. All I have to do is to call Monica to get the number.'
'Then you're organized. Good luck.'
'See you both…'
Tweed waited until he had left the room before he said it to Newman.
'I hope to Heaven we do see him again.'
27
Keith Kent had decided it was time to revisit the Zurcher Kredit Bank. He felt confident that Brazil would have left some time ago. In any case, he could check to see if the limo was still waiting for him.
Driving out of the Globus garage, he followed another devious route. In Zurich you could hardly ever drive straight from A to B. The insidious one-way system was a guarantee against that happening.
Later, driving down Talstrasse for the second time, he saw the limo had gone. He parked his car, was careful to feed the meter with coins. You don't get lucky twice – not where parking attendants are concerned.
Walking slowly into the bank, he studied the tellers behind the counters guarded by grilles. He had deliberately left his coat in the car, and he was wearing the type of expensive business suit Swiss banks associated with reliable customers. He chose a dopey-looking girl at the end of the counter. She had just suppressed a yawn.
Smiling, he leaned on the counter, gazed at her with admiration before he spoke.
'My name is Benton. I shall shortly have to make a very large transfer of money into Mr Leopold Brazil's main account. He insisted it must be deposited in his main account.'
'That would be at Sion,' the girl informed him.
'In the Valais.' Kent gave her another nice smile. 'I am most grateful to you. So will be Mr Brazil…'
He left quickly before she had time to mention what he had asked to another teller. He had persuaded her by his easy manner to break all the rules of secrecy.
'Now.' he said to himself, 'where Newman is Tweed cannot be far behind. So back to Globus once more, dump the chariot, walk to the Schweizerhof…'
Kent had almost reached the top of Bahnhofstrasse where it merged with Bahnhofplatz when he glanced across to the opposite side of the street. Standing on the corner so she could see the entrance to the Schweizerhof was the girl with jet hair he'd seen following Newman earlier.
He couldn't see her hair but he recognized the scarf round her head, the well-cut camel-hair coat. Kent was a man who made up his mind quickly. He waited for a tram to trundle past, crossed the street, stood in front of her, and smiled.
'Hello there, you look lonely. I'm Tom Benton.'
'Or Tomcat,' she replied instantly, eyeing him up and down.
'So we're both English, both on our own in a foreign city. I know the best place in town for dinner. It's in the Altstadt. What do they call you?'
'Sharon Stone. And I'm waiting for my boy friend.'
She had hardly finished speaking when Bill Franklin arrived out of nowhere. He grinned.
'Well, if it isn't Eve Warner. Long way from Dorset.' He looked at Kent and was about to recognize him when Kent spoke quickly.
'Hello, Bill. I've just introduced myself as Tom Benton to the lady, asked her out to dinner, but she's playing hard to get.'
'I told you my boy friend was on his way,' Eve replied swiftly. She took hold of Franklin's arm. 'I thought you were never coming. Let's go down to the lake.'
'Hold on. Half a mo'.' Franklin responded, standing still. 'What is all this, Eve? I didn't even know you were in Zurich.'
'You're a big help!' she snapped and stormed off down Bahnhofstrasse.
'Funny lady,' Franklin commented, holding out his hand. 'What are you doing in the city of gold, Keith?' he asked when they had shaken hands.
'Business. Confidential.'
'Close-mouthed as ever.' Franklin grinned again. 'Well, since you've undertaken assignments for me in the past it does inspire confidence. Now I've got to slip into the Schweizerhof to visit a mutual friend.'
'The friend has a name?' Kent enquired casually. 'Because that's where I'm going.'
Franklin paused, then threw back his head and burst out laughing. Taking out a handkerchief he wiped tears from his eyes.
'Let's go there together. You sit in the lobby while I have a word with the concierge. This could be very funny indeed. And what a coincidence – meeting Eve Warner and you.'
'I'm lucky with coincidences. They've made me a lot of money.. .'
Eve was puffing furiously at a cigarette as she walked down Bahnhofstrasse back to the Baur-en-Ville. She was livid. No matter how she tried to dismiss the idea, she felt sure Bill Franklin would, sooner or later, phone Tweed in London and report her presence in Zurich. And I was so careful on the way out, she recalled. Then a
