'I'll get them for you and leave them in a sealed envelope with the night concierge downstairs. You'll keep in touch with me? I'm staying at Zurich Police HQ.'
'I'll report to you if and when I can, certainly.'
Beck paused at the door, smiled without humour.
'One more small item you might care to know. Brazil has had his jet flown to Kloten from Belp. The pilot has filed a flight plan for take-off just after dawn. Guess for what destination.'
'Sion.'
'Give the man the money…'
When Beck had left Newman began talking again. Like Tweed, he showed no signs of strain.
'I'm surprised Beck has never questioned me about that car crashing into the tram.'
'He probably thinks we're under enough pressure. They cleared up the mess quickly. From my window I watched police cars arrive escorting a huge lifting machine. They were very careful how they attached the claws of the crane to what remained of the car. Then they took it away, presumably for examination.'
'I don't envy them doing that with three bodies inside,' Newman remarked.
'They were probably hoping to find the registration plates but I'd say their chances weren't good.'
'But there was the shotgun Craig was going to use. It will carry Craig's fingerprints. He wasn't wearing gloves.'
'Again it would be a disappointment. I saw some fool of a pedestrian pick up the weapon, having a good look at it before a uniformed policeman arrived and took him away with the gun. Any prints of Craig's would be smudged out of existence.'
'Pity. That leaves Craig in the clear. He's more than a hired thug. He's amoral and enjoys his work, I'm sure. I'd like to meet him again.'
'Maybe you will, so be careful,' Tweed warned. He checked his watch. 'We'll have to leave soon to catch that express. Only another half-hour at the outside. It will be dark for a while, so let's hope it has a dining car.'
Brazil had just finished an early breakfast, brought to him by room service, when there was a knock on his door. He called out 'Come in,' and Gustav entered, with a small box in his hand.
'What is it?' demanded Brazil.
'My idea has worked already. May I put this cassette in your recorder so you can listen?'
Brazil tensed inwardly. He had hoped Gustav was wrong in his suspicions that an informant, a traitor, existed within his organization. He had always chosen staff so carefully, checking them out himself. He nodded his approval and listened as Gustav started the small tape.
You know who this is? Jose's voice.
Yes. You have more information for me? Another voice, also speaking in English, but with a guttural accent Brazil suspected was faked.
Brazil and three key members of his team, Craig, Luigi, and Marco, are leaving by jet from Kloten this morning bound for Sion. Jose's unmistakable whispering voice again.
Thank you. I am still willing to make a payment to you. The other voice.
No. I want no payment. Brazil is a violent and evil man. I will keep you informed of developments. Jose once more.
Gustav rewound the tape, looked across the desk at his boss, who was gazing out of the window where, through a slit in the curtain he could see snow falling.
'Shall I replay the tape?' Gustav suggested. 'I always was suspicious of Jose. Too smooth.'
'No! I don't want to hear the damned thing again. How did you manage it?'
Gustav showed him the miniature tape-recorder. It had four suckers attached to its base.
'I merely placed this under the surface of his desk so it would pick up phone conversations.'
'Very ingenious.' Brazil sounded disappointed. 'I'll summon Jose when you have left. He will be travelling with me aboard the jet now. Is there any point in your staying here any longer?'
'The helicopter which was going to transport me to Sion is still standing by at Kloten?'
'It is.'
'Please keep it waiting for me. There is still another suspect I wish to check out.'
'The name?'
'I still would prefer not to mention it. After all, I might be wrong.'
'As you wish.'
Gustav, he reflected as his deputy left the room, liked to be secretive, which probably accounted for his reliability. I hope to God there isn't another rotten fish, he thought as he forced himself to press his intercom to summon Jose.
There was another knock on the door and he braced himself not to show his feelings when Jose entered. But it was Marco, bringing in Igor, who loped forward and flopped on the floor beside Brazil.
'He's been fed,' Marco explained. 'He'll fall asleep in no time.'
'Thank you, Marco. I'm expecting someone else…'
Absent-mindedly, his mood on what he had heard on the tape, Brazil took a cigarette from the gold box on his desk. He rarely smoked except in moments of tension. He called out after someone knocked on the door and Jose came in. He hurried forward, took hold of an onyx lighter on the desk, held it to light the cigarette. Brazil had to exert all his self-control not to dash the lighter out of Jose's hand. He let him light the cigarette, leant back in his chair.
'Jose, there is a limo waiting for me at Sion?'
'Yes, sir. I sent another driver with it as you instructed me.'
'I have decided I only feel comfortable with you behind the wheel. So you will fly with me in the jet to Sion.'
'It will be my pleasure, sir.'
'That is all.'
Igor had stood up when Jose had lit the cigarette, had given a low growl. It was extraordinary, Brazil thought, how the hound had sensed his own suppressed feelings of venom towards Jose. He stroked the dog.
'Igor, you'll soon have to work for your supper. Let's see whether you have forgotten your training.'
Tweed checked his watch again in his room and looked at Newman, who sat quite relaxed in a chair. By his side was his packed case and a canvas bag with a shoulder strap.
'Ten more minutes and we should go to the station.' Tweed remarked.
'Best not to get there too early.' Newman agreed. 'I know Beck has cleaned out the Hauptbahnhof but you never know – he could have missed one watcher. And we have the tickets.' he added, producing the envelope he had collected from the concierge's desk.
The phone rang. Tweed pursed his lips, picked it up.
'Yes? Who is calling?'
'The man from Kimmeridge.' said Archie.
'You have more news?'
'Yes. Our very important friend and top members of his team will be leaving this morning. They will fly from Kloten to the Valais.'
'Thank you. We will be leaving here soon. I do appreciate your keeping me up to date.'
He told Newman what Archie had said. Newman shrugged.
'We knew that already. Beck told us.'
'But it shows how closely Archie keeps his finger on what is happening. He's quite a character.'
He had just finished speaking when the phone rang. Tweed tightened his lips. Should he answer? They were due to leave shortly. He picked up the phone.
'Monica here. Thank heavens I've reached you!'
She was speaking quickly and Tweed detected great anxiety under the surface although, being Monica, she was calm.
'What's happened?' Tweed asked. 'If you could keep it brief.'
'Howard has panicked, gone right over the top. Someone is needed here urgently to take control.'
'What caused the panic?' Tweed enquired, checking his watch again.
'The rumours on the international grapevine -rumours that a major coup is imminent in Moscow.'
