stake. For the first time in his life Tweed felt checkmated.
They were all still in Tweed's room when Beck tapped on the door, came in with his fur coat, flecked with snow, over his arm. Typically, he came straight to the point.
'I've just heard that Philip Cardon has arrived – in Sion.'
He explained briefly the circumstances which, on his orders, had led Inspector Vincenau to the Hotel des Bergues.
'That is where Philip Cardon and Paula Grey stayed on the night of the massacre in Geneva. Some instinct led me to have the hotel watched.'
'Well, at least Philip has got there safely.' Tweed remarked.
'What the hell's wrong with you?' Beck had exploded. 'One man against all those troops Brazil has brought in from France and Germany!'
'He will cope
'You hope.'
It was not a remark which made Tweed feel any better. He then explained to Beck that they were trapped inside Zurich – and why. Beck listened, then sat down, frowning.
'That I will not put up with,' he announced grimly. 'So you wait here for two hours. Have a leisurely breakfast. Then walk into the station and catch the first express.'
'What have you in mind?' enquired Tweed.
'A horde of uniformed police, plus men in plain clothes, will check the identity of everyone inside and outside the Hauptbahnhof. They will be searched for weapons. Because from what you have told me any of Brazil's thugs will be armed. I shall arrange with several police stations to have cells ready for them.' He grinned. 'Mr Brazil no longer carries the clout with that group of bankers who were putting pressure on me.'
'Why not?' asked Tweed.
'Because Brazil promised them huge profits for certain funds they loaned him. Now these so-called clever men believe they have been tricked. They know that he has transferred huge funds to the Zurcher Kredit Bank in Sion. Undoubtedly to pay the army of mercenaries he has assembled there. They come expensive – mercenaries. Even if they had not changed their minds I would have put this clean-up operation into action.'
'You are a good friend.' Tweed told him.
'I am a good policeman. Now, I must rush back to headquarters to organize the operation. I shall supervise it myself.'
In his living room at the Baur-en-Ville Brazil was giving secret instructions to Gustav, one of the few men he trusted.
'I am sure there is a leak inside our organization. I want the informant tracked down, eliminated. You have those compact listening and recording devices which can be concealed anywhere. Use them.'
'I would like first to install one in Jose's office.'
'Jose? You really think so?'
'We can at least check. Also I have another suspect in mind. Again I can use a listening device. Have I permission to check on anyone I wish to?'
'I suppose it is the only way to be sure. Who is the second suspect?'
'That I do not wish to reveal at this stage.'
Brazil glared at him, stroked the wolfhound, Igor, which had stood up from the floor beside his chair, as though detecting its master's brief annoyance. It bared its teeth, subsided as its master kept stroking it.,
There was a knock on the door and Brazil called out, 'Come in.' Marco appeared, wearing an overcoat, holding a dog's leash.
Time for you to go for a walk, Igor.' Brazil said.
He had heard several owners of dogs say 'walkies' and he detested the word and all that it implied. For Brazil Igor was a guard dog, an attack dog if necessary. Igor showed excitement when it saw the leash, submitted to the leash being attached, and went out of the room with a bounce in its step as Marco closed the door.
'That's a fierce animal.' Gustav remarked. 'And it can sense when you are annoyed.'
'It's just a dog.' Brazil said curtly. 'How do you propose to handle this secret check if you do detect an informant?'
'I will bring the cassette straight to you. Then you can listen to what was said for yourself on your recorder.'
'Do it.'
He studied the man with the hooked nose as he got up to go. Gustav was probably the most reliable of all the staff he employed. Even more reliable than Craig who had a tendency to blow his fuse. At that moment Craig entered the room as Gustav, without a glance in his direction, left. Craig, as always, had not bothered to knock before being told he could come in. He sank his bulk into a carver chair, which creaked under the pressure.
'All set, Chief.' Craig reported. 'And no one has left the Schweizerhof. I've had it watched round the clock.'
'So we have them penned up. I'm leaving Zurich. Jose and Gustav are staying here for the moment to check how the situation develops. One other person may stay to assist Jose.'
'Who?'
'It doesn't matter. My jet has been flown in from Belp to Kloten. You will accompany me.'
'What about Eve?' Craig asked.
'She will stay here, too. I have told her.'
'Where are we flying to?'
'Sion, of course.'
31
'Police.'
The man in plain clothes held up his warrant card in front of the hard-faced man who had been pretending to read a newspaper in the Hauptbahnhof.
'Identity papers, please.' the detective demanded.
Hard-Face stiffened, then slipped his hand inside his raincoat. The hand of another man behind him grasped the hand, brought it out slowly, then rammed his own hand back into the breast pocket, slowly withdrew a 7.65mm Luger from the shoulder holster.
'Take him to the wagon,' the first detective ordered.
There was a click as the second detective locked a handcuff round Hard-Face's wrist, clipped the other cuff round his own wrist, marched him off.
It was happening all over the main station. Detectives worked in pairs, even checked every member of the uniformed station staff. Within an hour the chief of detectives reported to Beck over the phone.
'All clear at the Hauptbahnhof. We're staying in case more rubbish turns up…'
At Police Headquarters Beck put on a coat, ran down the stairs, and walked briskly, avoiding ice, to the Schweizerhof.
Tweed had also been up all night. He had sent Marler with Butler and Meld back to the Gotthard to pack their cases and be ready for instant departure to the station when he called. They had arrived in his room separately and had left at intervals to fool anyone watching the hotel. So far as Tweed knew their identities were still completely unknown to Craig's gang. Newman was talking to Tweed when Beck rapped on the door. Again he carried his coat over his arm and again it was flecked with snow.
'Still coming down?' Tweed queried, glancing at the coat.
'The forecast is it won't stop. I came to stretch my legs, to tell you the station is clear. We arrested eleven men, all armed with various cannons. Where are you off to?'
'Geneva.'
'An express leaves in one hour from now. You need how many tickets?'
'Five, first class. Why?'
