the lake behind them – only a short distance from where they stood.
`The story is we're looking for a friend – Warner,' Martel told her. 'His wife is seriously ill and we think he's somewhere here. We'll buy a street map,, divide up the place into sections – then meet up at an agreed place in two hours' time…'
`It sounds a hopeless task,' she commented when they were studying a street plan bought at a kiosk.
`Warner was here – he made a reference to the place in his notebook. Concentrate on anywhere selling cigarettes – he smoked like a chimney. He had a strong personality, made an impression on anyone he talked to. Now, we'll decide which district each of us is going to tackle. Half this job is legwork…'
In the Munich apartment the phone began ringing and Manfred, who was expecting the call, picked up the receiver with his gloved hand. It was Erwin Vinz. Manfred, a teetotaller, poured Perrier water as he listened intently.
'I am speaking from Munich Hauptbahnhof,' Vinz began after giving the identification code. 'I got off the train a few minutes ago
Manfred knew immediately something was wrong. Vinz was rambling, reluctant to come to the point. Manfred introduced into the conversation his often-used ploy.
'Excellent! We assume all went well. Appointment kept and deal concluded!'
'The Englishman was not on the train. There is no doubt – I can vouch for the fact personally. If he got aboard at St. Gallen he must have got off at Romanshorn or St. Margarethen in Switzerland.'
'Kohler saw him closing the compartment door after he boarded the express at St. Gallen…'
Manfred's voice was gentle and delicate, concealing his livid rage. Vinz's insolence in emphasising If cast doubt on Kohler's competence. Not that Manfred cared a damn about Kohler – but Vinz was trying to shift the blame and that he would not tolerate.
'Kohler would have known,' Manfred continued, 'if our friend left the train while it was moving through Switzerland…' Manfred saw no reason to explain that Kohler would have had men with a clear description of Keith Martel waiting at each Swiss stop. He continued to make Vinz sweat.
'Your sector began at the Swiss border. You got on the train at Lindau
'The bastard must have got off at Bregenz,' Vinz interjected. 'It was the only place left uncovered…'
'Left uncovered by you…'
Bregenz! Manfred's hand gripped the receiver tightly. The one town he did not want Martel poking around in was Bregenz. He felt like screaming at Vinz, but the sensitivity of the situation must at all costs be hidden.
'I can have a team in Bregenz in one hour,' Vinz volunteered, disturbed by the silence at the other end of the line.
'We would like your team to keep its appointment with the client in half an hour. I hold you personally responsible for bringing about a successful conclusion to this transaction…'
Inside the payphone at Munich Hauptbahnhof Vinz swore again. Once more Manfred had abruptly terminated the conversation. And now he had to fly his bloody team back from Munich to the airstrip nearest Bregenz. This time they had to eliminate the Englishman.
In London Tweed had left his office for his flat in Maida Vale after receiving the St. Gallen call from Martel. Mason, Howard's new deputy, had tried to delay him. Looking leaner and hungrier than ever, he arrived as Tweed was leaving.
'The chief would like to see you in his office, sir. He says it is extremely urgent…'
'It always is – to him. I'll see him when I get back.'
Tweed took a cab to the flat. He also took Miss McNeil and she carried the Martel tape concealed in a hold-all. While in the cab he asked his question.
'That new recruit, Mason. Is he any good at anything?'
'He'd make a good bodyguard,' McNeil replied in her crisp Scots accent. 'He's an expert at judo, karate. A marksman with handguns. Special Branch were happy for Howard to take him.'
'Why?'
McNeil had a finely-tuned ear on the grapevine. Probably due to her
`The story is we're looking for a friend – Warner,' Martel told her. 'His wife is seriously ill and we think he's somewhere here. We'll buy a street map,, divide up the place into sections – then meet up at an agreed place in two hours' time…'
`It sounds a hopeless task,' she commented when they were studying a street plan bought at a kiosk.
`Warner was here – he made a reference to the place in his notebook. Concentrate on anywhere selling cigarettes – he smoked like a chimney. He had a strong personality, made an impression on anyone he talked to. Now, we'll decide which district each of us is going to tackle. Half this job is legwork…'
In the Munich apartment the phone began ringing and Manfred, who was expecting the call, picked up the receiver with his gloved hand. It was Erwin Vinz. Manfred, a teetotaller, poured Perrier water as he listened intently.
'I am speaking from Munich Hauptbahnhof,' Vinz began after giving the identification code. 'I got off the train a few minutes ago
Manfred knew immediately something was wrong. Vinz was rambling, reluctant to come to the point. Manfred introduced into the conversation his often-used ploy.
'Excellent! We assume all went well. Appointment kept and deal concluded!'
'The Englishman was not on the train. There is no doubt – I can vouch for the fact personally. If he got aboard at St. Gallen he must have got off at Romanshorn or St. Margarethen in Switzerland.'
'Kohler saw him closing the compartment door after he boarded the express at St. Gallen…'
Manfred's voice was gentle and delicate, concealing his livid rage. Vinz's insolence in emphasising If cast doubt on Kohler's competence. Not that Manfred cared a damn about Kohler – but Vinz was trying to shift the blame and that he would not tolerate.
'Kohler would have known,' Manfred continued, 'if our friend left the train while it was moving through Switzerland…' Manfred saw no reason to explain that Kohler would have had men with a clear description of Keith Martel waiting at each Swiss stop. He continued to make Vinz sweat.
'Your sector began at the Swiss border. You got on the train at Lindau
'The bastard must have got off at Bregenz,' Vinz interjected. 'It was the only place left uncovered…'
'Left uncovered by you…'
Bregenz! Manfred's hand gripped the receiver tightly. The one town he did not want Martel poking around in was Bregenz. He felt like screaming at Vinz, but the sensitivity of the situation must at all costs be hidden.
'I can have a team in Bregenz in one hour,' Vinz volunteered, disturbed by the silence at the other end of the line.
'We would like your team to keep its appointment with the client in half an hour. I hold you personally responsible for bringing about a successful conclusion to this transaction…'
Inside the payphone at Munich Hauptbahnhof Vinz swore again. Once more Manfred had abruptly terminated the conversation. And now he had to fly his bloody team back from Munich to the airstrip nearest Bregenz. This time they had to eliminate the Englishman.
In London Tweed had left his office for his flat in Maida Vale after receiving the St. Gallen call from Martel. Mason, Howard's new deputy, had tried to delay him. Looking leaner and hungrier than ever, he arrived as Tweed was leaving.
'The chief would like to see you in his office, sir. He says it is extremely urgent…'
'It always is – to him. I'll see him when I get back.'
Tweed took a cab to the flat. He also took Miss McNeil and she carried the Martel tape concealed in a hold-all. While in the cab he asked his question.
'That new recruit, Mason. Is he any good at anything?'
'He'd make a good bodyguard,' McNeil replied in her crisp Scots accent. 'He's an expert at judo, karate. A marksman with handguns. Special Branch were happy for Howard to take him.'
'Why?'
McNeil had a finely-tuned ear on the grapevine. Probably due to her
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