outcrops of huge boulders. No one spoke after Newman had told Philip: 'It's The Motorman up there. Guess who he is. It's Bill Franklin
He had just spoken when the hanging figure began its fall. Franklin plunged down, struck an outcrop with a force which made Newman wince, was bounced off and then turned as he completed his fall, landing on the snow a hundred yards from where they stood with an unpleasant crunching sound.
'Why didn't you finish him off up there?' Newman asked.
'I'm not a sadist,' Archie replied, 'far from it. But he made many people suffer, the friends and relatives of all those people he murdered, I believe in crime and punishment.'
46
'How on earth did you know The Motorman was Bill Franklin?' Newman asked Tweed. 'I thought I heard you call out as I rushed away from the airfield.'
It was late the next day and Newman was driving Tweed to the airfield with Butler and Paula in the back. Butler had insisted on being discharged from the hospital in Sion, overriding the doctor.
'A chance incident,' Tweed explained. 'I was with Professor Grogarty, a tall well-built man, in Harley Street. He was stooped over and suddenly straightened up. It struck me that Keith Kent is of medium height – as Grogarty looked when he stooped. But when Grogarty straightened up he was the height of Bill Franklin. We know The Motorman, whenever described, stooped. It was his way of disguising that he was tall. Simple.'
'Simple.' Paula called out, 'but you noticed it, unlike so many people would have done – and drew the right conclusion. I'm still flabbergasted that it should have been Bill. He seemed such a nice chap.'
'Which is what people say after the event about a lot of killers.' Tweed reminded her.
The rest of the day had been full of frenetic activity. Butler had had the bullet removed from his thigh at the hospital. The doctor had said it was just a deep flesh wound, that he had been lucky. Butler had spun him a yarn about how he was checking his Walther, not realizing it was loaded, and had shot himself. Paula had explained Arthur Beck, Chief of Federal Police, was a friend and this had satisfied the doctor. Plus the fact that Beck had arranged for an ambulance to meet the jet when they arrived in Zurich.
Tweed had been on the line from the Hotel Elite, where he had moved to, calling Beck. Which was how they knew Brazil was still at the Baur-en-Ville in Bahnhofstrasse. Tweed was determined to arrive in the city before Brazil left it.
All Sion was talking about the avalanche on the Kellerhorn.
Prior to Tweed leaving the airfield, he had witnessed a second avalanche roaring down from the summit. The second tidal wave of rocks and shale had buried the bodies of Brazil's men. Searching the mountain through his field glasses, he had seen no sign of any of the casualties. He doubted that they would ever be discovered.
'No need for that ambulance when we get to Zurich.' Butler called out. 'I feel fighting fit.'
'You will go in the ambulance.' Paula told him sternly. 'I'll be coming with you. We're not going to risk any infection setting in. So pipe down.'
'You're bossy.' Butler grumbled.
'I know I am.' replied Paula, and laughed.
Close behind them Marler drove the other vehicle with Philip beside him and Nield in the back. They all carried satchels, containing the remains of their armoury.
On the way down the mountain the previous day, Newman had stopped briefly when they were passing a narrow setback in the mountain. Carrying the rocket launcher, he had eased his way inside the crevice, had found a deep hole in the ground. He had dropped the launcher down it and when he never heard it hit bottom he knew he had chosen the right place.
It was still daylight when they reached the airfield. Tweed had warned the controller they were coming, had asked him to alert the aircrew. Paula looped her arm inside Butler's to help him up the mobile staircase. His only comment had been amiable.
'And I never thought you cared…'
The jet took off minutes after they were all aboard, climbed steeply and headed for the mountains. Paula, by a window seat, looked down on the Kellerhorn, thinking she never wished to see it again. Then it was dark. Tweed called back to the others.
'Beck knows we're coming. He'll have two unmarked cars to take us to the Schweizerhof. We'll be in time for dinner.'
After landing in Zurich in his white jet, Brazil had been driven to a bank in Bahnhofstrasse. To his fury he found the bank had just closed. Inside were the proceeds he had obtained by secretly selling some of the bearer bonds in his possession. The considerable sum of cash they had been converted into was his nest egg.
Fuming to himself, he had ordered his driver to take him back to the Baur-en-Ville. It meant staying overnight in the Swiss city. Not a prospect he desired – his one desire was to return to Dorset, to get out of Switzerland quickly.
When he walked into the lounge Eve was sitting in a chair, reading a fashion magazine. She was wearing anexpensive white two-piece suit which she had just bought.
'Have a good trip?' she called out.
Brazil walked straight past her, as though unaware of her existence. He disappeared inside a lift. She dropped the magazine.
'Rude devil.' she muttered. 'You can get stuffed.'
To get over her annoyance she lit a fresh cigarette from the one she had been smoking, stood up, and strolled into the bar. Perching on a stool, she ordered a large vodka, downed it, ordered another. She made eye contact with several men who gazed at her with interest. She held their gaze just long enough to make them think she was intrigued, then tossed her head and looked away.
She spent several hours in the bar, drinking more vodka, but still remaining as sober as the proverbial judge. Then she decided she would have a long walk. Newman was on her mind. Now Brazil had returned she felt sure Newman and Tweed would reappear. Newman was her target. She had never given a thought to Philip since Brazil had left for Sion.
It piqued her that, because of the cold, she had to put on the overcoat she had carried into the bar. She would have liked to flaunt her new outfit along Bahnhofstrasse, watching men lick their lips at the sight of her.
She walked in the direction of Bahnhofplatz and the Hotel Schweizerhof. Entering the lobby, she marched up to the concierge, her manner supremely confident.
'I have an appointment with Mr Robert Newman when he arrives.' she lied.
'He's expected any moment.'
The concierge stopped speaking, wondering if he had committed an indiscretion. He was standing in for the permanent concierge and had not yet sorted out who was who. The very attractive woman with the imperious attitude had given him the impression she was staying at the hotel, which had been Eve's intention.
You can fool men any time, she thought as she descended the steps into the Bistro leading off the lobby.
This further confirmed to the concierge that she was a guest and he felt better. He would not have felt so relieved had he seen Eve leave the Bistro immediately by the second door on to the street.
She descended by an escalator into Shopville, the shopping centre under the platz. Ignoring the shops – she preferred Bahnhofstrasse where the prices were sky-high – she rode up an escalator on the far side which took her into the main station. She then stood at the top of the steps a few feet inside the station. From here she could see any arrivals at the Schweizerhof.
She had been so concentrating on the pleasant feel of the new suit under her coat it never occurred to her that she might have been followed from the Baur-en-Ville. Across the platz, standing in a doorway, Gustav patiently waited, never taking his eyes off Eve.
Tweed and Newman, carrying their cases, with Philip behind them, left the unmarked police car which had brought them from Kloten Airport. They disappeared inside the Schweizerhof. Still wary, Tweed had arranged for Marler and Nield to stay at the Gotthard nearby.
