He shook himself awake. Such thoughts, enjoyed in the comfortable isolation of the Swiss Alps, were mere self-indulgence, of which he felt himself unworthy. He sat up and pressed a second bell under his chair, next to the alarm. A servant moved out from the shadows of the wall. ‘Summon Herr Metzner,’ the Ruler commanded. The servant bowed three times and vanished.
The young German appeared on the terrace a moment later. The Ruler nodded. ‘Lutz, I regret that I do not have time for chess today. I have other problems to solve. Have them call my Embassy in Paris. I want Second Secretary Ashak. And the call will be put through the K-scrambler.’ He paused. ‘Is that understood?’
The German stared at his twin reflections in the Ruler’s glasses. ‘The K-scrambler —?’ he began.
‘Yes, Lutz? Please go on.’
The German scraped a shoe on the tiles. ‘I was curious,’ he began again, his pale eyes fixed on the mirror lenses below him.
‘Curious about what, Lutz?’ The Ruler’s voice was like dry ice.
‘I thought we no longer used the K-scrambler,’ the German murmured.
‘You are misinformed. The line is still operational. It is merely that of late I have grown tired of sharing all my conversations with Colonel Tamat and his colleagues.’ The Ruler stretched himself like a cat and stood up, resting his hand on the German’s shoulder. ‘Colonel Tamat is a most vigilant public servant, Lutz. But even I must allow myself some privacy.’ His fingertips stroked the German’s slim shoulder, feeling for the collarbone. ‘Something still worries you?’ he added caressingly.
Lutz blinked and lowered his pink eyelids, trying to avoid those two shining mirrors only a few inches from his face. The Ruler gave off a metallic, bittersweet smell, like a well-oiled weapon.
‘I was only thinking —’ the German hesitated again, shifting his other foot — ‘I was thinking that perhaps the colonel will be surprised to hear you use this line after so many days.’
‘Surprised? My dear Lutz, why should he be? As I said, the line is still operational. In any case, it is not I who will be using it. You will talk to Second Secretary Ashak.’ His forefinger and thumb dug gently into the muscle under the German’s neck. ‘You will tell the Second Secretary that the Lebanese gentleman, Monsieur Chamaz, is to be issued with diplomatic papers, and is to leave the Embassy at once. He will proceed by car to Basel with the utmost secrecy. If the Second Secretary should ask why the gentleman is not to go by air, you will explain that I do not wish there to be a record of his journey, even with the civil airlines. Whereas the frontier formalities on roads between France and Switzerland have almost ceased to exist.’
There was silence. In the town below, the queues for the cable car behind the railway station had dispersed; a car hooted from the road up to Davos; a jingle of bells reached them from a horse sleigh down by the ice rink. The Ruler had fractionally lowered his voice, as though afraid that they themselves would be overheard.
‘That is all understood, Lutz?’
‘Yes. But the address — the destination in Basel?’
‘You will give the address as the usual “safe house”.’ His finger and thumb squeezed the muscle and felt it stiffen. The German winced. ‘Something still troubles you, my dear Lutz? Tell me — we have no secrets.’
The German opened his mouth, then shut it again, like a fish. ‘I do not know everything,’ he said quietly, ‘but I know there are some things that must stay secret. Because it is better for me, yes?’
‘Yes.’ The Ruler’s hand relaxed and patted the German’s shoulder. ‘Far better. But as my personal adjutant here in Switzerland, you are entitled to know all that you feel necessary to know.’
The German took a step back, leaving the Ruler’s hand hovering awkwardly. ‘I will call the Embassy,’ he said in his stiff English, and turned.
‘And Lutz!’ the Ruler called after him. ‘When you have finished, have some champagne sent to my office. And two glasses. You look as though you need some refreshment.’
Left alone, the Ruler stood gazing out at the dazzling panorama of jagged white against the backdrop of frozen blue. He loved Switzerland: not only for its climate and scenic beauty — luxurious retreat from his arid kingdom — but also because it reminded him of the very best hotel: the management, discreetly invisible, provided all that was demanded, as long as the price was right.
In his study he removed the plastic shield from his nose and exchanged the mirror glasses for his black-rimmed spectacles, which gave him the appearance of an austere banker, and began to consult a map of Europe. Basel straddled the Rhine, at a junction with the French and German frontiers; and he pondered upon which of the four most likely routes from Paris the driver would choose. Colonel Tamat’s men were not going to find it easy; thus the exercise would be instructive in two ways. It would test the effectiveness of NAZAK’s organizational abilities in France and Switzerland, and it would settle the question of Colonel Tamat’s loyalty, one way or the other. For as the faithful Lutz had pointed out, the fact that the instructions to Paris had been given on the K-scrambler meant that NAZAK would automatically intercept them. It remained to be seen whether the NAZAK agent in Paris already appreciated the importance of Pierre-Baptiste Chamaz — enough to request instructions from Colonel Tamat himself — and whether the colonel realized the trap and did nothing, or responded with his characteristic efficiency and ruthlessness.
He looked up as Lutz came in carrying a tray with an opened bottle of champagne in
