had once been an unnoticed attache at the Soviet Embassy in Washington.
Brazil turned round in his chair. Craig had at long last managed to attach the harness to Igor, prior to landing. Igor did not like the harness and only sharp commands from Brazil had enabled Craig to complete his unwanted task.
'Excellent!' he said to Craig. 'We'll make a good dog handler out of you yet.'
'Not with this animal.' Craig grumbled.
Swivelling his chair further round, Brazil was amused by the fat Luigi, who ate too much pasta. On take-off from Kloten he'd had trouble fastening his belt into the last hole, unlike the white-faced slim Marco, who had closed the belt and sat quite comfortably.
'We are coming in to land, sir.' the pilot's voice informed him over the tannoy.
Brazil swivelled his seat round again, so he could look out of the window. From that height he could just see the long white block which was his villa, and the glacier below it on the other side of the valley.
He checked his watch, trusting it more than the time shown on the illuminated panel. Yes, he would have time to spare before sending the first signal to the ground station. Probably well over an hour – even allowing for the drive up the diabolical road into the mountains.
He glanced across at Jose, who occupied a seat on the other side of the central aisle. The smooth-skinned man was fast asleep. Brazil's expression became grim – he was recalling his treachery, the recording he had listened to supplied by Gustav, the recording which had proved beyond any doubt that Jose had been informing on him. Well, he had worked out how to deal with that problem before they reached the villa.
From the high window in his hotel Marler watched the jet landing through high-powered glasses. His binoculars were so good he saw Brazil with his dog, descending the step-ladder, followed by three other men.
A limousine with tinted windows was waiting close to where the aircraft stopped. He saw Jose run to the car to bring it to Brazil, get in behind the wheel. He waited a moment longer before reporting to Newman at the Hotel Elite. Five minutes later, after trying to start the limo, Jose got out, spread his hands in a gesture of frustration. Men in overalls appeared, began to fuss with the engine. Marler made his call.
'Black Beaver has landed. There seems to be some delay in leaving. The limo won't start. Mechanics are looking at the engine.'
'That gives you extra time then. Get into your four-wheel-drive and wait across the Rhone at the agreed point.'
'On my way.'
There had been furious activity after Newman had met Paula and Philip in the Avenue de la Gare. He had asked them where they had obtained the vehicle. Climbing aboard, he had stopped on the way to the Elite to get the phone number of the vehicle display room. Immediately on arrival at the Elite he had phoned Marler, given him the number, told him to phone up the company to ask them to send him a four-wheel-drive with chains on the wheels and he'd pay in cash if it arrived in fifteen minutes.
The vehicle had arrived at Marler's hotel in ten minutes. He had paid over the money, adding a generous tip, then confirmed to Newman that it had arrived.
In the meantime Newman had taken Philip and Paula up to his suite, had listened for ten minutes without once interrupting while they told him of their exploits when they had visited the ground station on the Kellerhorn. He watched both of them as they took turns putting him in the picture. Philip insisted Paula explained what had happened when they were nearly killed at the rock alcove on the way down. While they talked, he occasionally glanced at the map Paula had spread out over the bed.
'I'm truly staggered,' he said when they had finished, 'staggered at what you have achieved. I thought that would be our great problem locating the ground station – and you've done it while I was on my way here.'
'Couldn't just hang around and get bored,' said Paula, being very British and glancing at her fingernails.
'You look very fit,' Newman said, gazing at her.
'It was good exercise. Exciting at times, but I don't waste time meditating on that bit.'
'So what do we do next?' Philip asked.
'I'm sure Brazil, when he lands, will drive up to that villa of his. It sounds like his control point. I'm amazed you traced that.'
'Well.' Philip pointed out, 'it is really all down to that waitress in the station restaurant where I called in for a cup of coffee.'
'Yes.' said Newman, 'but you talked to her and – even more important – you let her talk to you. Now, when Butler and Nield arrive, I will outline the master plan for tomorrow. At least.' he grinned ruefully, 'I hope it will turn out to be a master plan.'
'Why don't we attack the ground station today?' suggested Paula.
'Because.' Newman explained, 'having intruded today the enemy will be on the alert. Tomorrow morning they will be more relaxed. Then we hit them with all we've got.'
'What is Marler doing?' Philip asked.
'He's going to follow Brazil's limo – when they get it going – up to his villa. Marler is a man who can do a lot of damage.'
'Shouldn't he have back-up?' Paula objected.
'No. He functions much more effectively on his own. By the by, Bill Franklin was on the express which brought me here. Called in on me in my compartment.'
'He's good company.' Paula remarked.
'Also.' Newman continued, 'Keith Kent is in town. I bumped into him just before you arrived. Interesting, isn't it?'
'If we're going to be in Sion this evening.' Philip said in a determined voice, 'Paula and I can visit the elusive Anton Marchat. After dark.'
'Good idea.' Newman agreed.
'What did you mean when you said interesting?' Paula enquired. 'After you'd mentioned that Kent and Bill Franklin are here?'
'Well, it just occurred to me that when poor Ben, the barman at the Black Bear in Wareham, was murdered, both Franklin and Kent were in the area. And from the way Ben died we know it was the work of The Motorman.'
Eve, feeling at a loose end in her room at the Baur-en-Ville, decided she would go along to see Gustav. It was time she got sorted out whether or not she was in charge of the whole staff who had remained behind.
Reaching a corner, she heard a door close. Peering round she saw Gustav, dressed far more smartly than was normal for him, walking furtively away from her until he disappeared round the corner leading to the stairs.
'I wonder?' she said to herself. She knew Gustav had a liking for the strange ladies you could encounter on the streets in certain parts of Zurich. She tried the door handle. He'd left it unlocked. In a hurry to get on with it, she thought contemptuously.
Opening the door she was met with a strong stench of cheap hair oil. That confirmed her suspicions. So he wouldn't be back for some time. She looked round the untidy room, was about to leave when she saw a bunch of keys almost merging with a cushion on a couch.
'He's forgotten his keys!'
This was too good an opportunity to miss. She picked up the keys, checked to make sure his car key wasn't among them. No car key. Nothing to bring him back unexpectedly.
She walked over to the steel filing cabinet which, she had noticed earlier, he always kept locked. In no time she found the master key which unlocked every drawer. Thetop drawer was full of files which held papers concerning accounts, bills.
She opened the second drawer. This drawer held files with their contents marked on tabs attached to each file. She riffled through them, stopped at one file labelled Scientists.
Something echoed in her memory. An article in the Herald Tribune. Just a short piece tucked away on an inside page. Headlined Missing Scientists Mystery. She began to study the sheets inside the fat file. Each was devoted to one scientist. Gave a lot of personal data, the kind of data she had mugged up before getting to know one of the bankers Brazil had told her to go after.
ED REYNOLDS
