Red Alert (30 page)

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|The pantechnicon driver saw the lorry first and desper tried to wave Graham back. Then Graham saw the y. He looked behind him. He wouldn't be able to drop : behind the pantechnicon, the distance was too great, eft him with no option. Evasive action. He swung the el sharply to the right, missing the lorry by inches, lorry swerved to the left, clipping the side of the ntechnicon. The Quattro struck the mountain side-on a protrusion of rock ripped a jagged gash in both yrs before Graham managed to swing the car back on i the road. He glanced in his rearview mirror. Both the |ťrry and the pantechnicon had stopped. The police car I't stop.

Graham looked at the clock. Three minutes. And still sign of the lake. He had already decided to send the ar over the edge of the road if he hadn't seen the lake rithin the next minute. Avalanche or not, he wasn't going i kill himself for some terrorist's bomb. He was already jntemplating where to ditch the car when he saw the Signpost. lottersee -- EiNGANG Vakm. It was still going to : tight. Then he saw the lake to his left. Its tranquillity eminded him of Lake Champlain. But it was only a action of the size.

The road descended rapidly. He followed another sign ipost on to a dirt road which led him to the lake. He fcouldn't drive the car into the water, there was no guarantee

that the boot would be submerged before the bomb I detonated. He scanned his surroundings. A wooden jetty ffifty yards away. It would be perfect. He spun the wheel | violently and drove to the jetty. It was deserted. The whole I area seemed to be deserted. The police car appeared in his i rearview mirror. He mounted the jetty carefully, fearful '",_ that the wooden boards wouldn't hold the car's weight. They held firm. He checked the time. A minute left. He

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decided against jumping from the car before it left jetty, not with so much at stake. He would bail out whe it hit the water. It would take several seconds to sink giving him enough time to swim away.

He pressed the accelerator and the car shot forward He braced himself as the car launched off the jetty. The it hit the water, nose first. He immediately unbuckled hif seatbelt and pulled on the door handle. The door wouldn'i open. The car dipped forward and the cold, murky wat flooded in. He tugged desperately at the handle then the door with his shoulder. It was jammed. The lock ha been damaged when the door had been raked agains the mountain. Within seconds the inside of the car wa flooded. His only chance was the passenger door, reached for the handle. The car bucked forward, knockir him against the windscreen. He felt as if his lungs wouldj burst. If only he could get to the passenger door . . .

Whitlock knew something was wrong when he saw| Graham struggling with the door handle before the front! of the Quattro disappeared. He leapt out of the police car,! discarded his jacket and his Browning, and ran to the end] of the jetty. He dived into the water just as the last part] of the Quattro slid under the water. He took a deep breath! and dived. He could see where it had come to rest onl its wheels. As he got closer he saw Graham struggling! frantically with the passenger door. Whitlock grabbed the! handle with both hands and, anchoring his right footi against the back door, he slowly eased it open. Graham! pushed desperately from his side until the gap was bigl enough for him to squeeze through. They immediately! propelled themselves upwards to the surface where they! paused, coughing and spluttering, to catch their breath| before swimming quickly to the jetty. Vlok and the police* man hauled them out of the water. Graham slumped down|

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i to the wooden planks and exhaled deeply. It had been

se.

Whitlock crouched beside Graham and put a hand Ightly on his shoulder. 'Are you okay?'

'Yeah,' Graham replied, then put an arm around litlock's shoulders. 'I don't know how much longer fd have lasted out there if you hadn't showed up when du did. Thanks, buddy.'

Whitlock shrugged it off, then stood up and helped jraham to his feet. 'What we need now is a hot shower nd a change of clothing before we catch pneumonia.' He

aked up at the policeman. 'Any chance of a lift back to 0ur hotel?'

'You bet,' the policeman replied with a grin.

309

TWELVE

Rust sat behind his desk. In front of him was a fold containing the latest developments of Strike Force Nir operation in Paris. He had read it four times already! his mind refused to take any of it in. All he could thin about was the vial. He looked at his watch: 3.30 p.m. hour-and-a-half had elapsed since the cylinder had taken away for examination. It could be another thif minutes before the results were known. Perhaps long The waiting was killing him. He took a sip of coffee, j

f was cold. He spat it back into the cup and was about i make himself a fresh one when he heard a knock at door. He looked at the television monitor on his deskij

f was Scheffer.

I He activated the door.

Philpott was on the telephone when Graham and Whit entered the office. He gestured for them to take a 'Thanks for letting me know, Jacques,' he said finally 1 replaced the receiver and turned to face them. 'The i have just come through. The vial contained water.'

'I can't say I'm surprised, sir,' Whitlock replied, you said, it would have been too easy.'

'Has Vlok told you what happened with the Graham asked.

'Yes. I've notified the bomb squad. It's in their har

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|tťow.' Philpott looked at the desk clock. There's less than Ininety minutes left before the deadline. I want you to |rejoin your teams and continue the search for the vial.'

'And what if we do find another one?' Graham asked. ji'There won't be time to send it to Zurich for analysis.'

'I've asked Jacques to have a carbon-steel-plated Mag |nox flask sent down here from Zurich. It's similar to the Mitainers that are used for the disposal of highly toxic nuclear waste, only much smaller. The helicopter should et here within the next thirty minutes. Then if the vial found, it can be sealed inside the flask, rendering it harmless.'

'But what if it's another red herring?' Graham asked. 'Let's find it first,' Philpott replied evasively, then eped Paluzzi and Marco to determine their positions i that Whitlock and Graham could rejoin them.

be telephone remained silent for the next twenty minutes, ben it rang twice in the space of five minutes. The first ,11 was from Emile, the helicopter pilot, to say that he ad arrived at the Offenbach Centre with the Magnox ask. Philpott told him to remain with the helicopter on

: helipad.

The second call was from Michele Molinetti. Philpott

jldn't place the name.

'Perhaps I should have said Captain Molinetti of the IOCS.'

'Of course,' Philpott replied, now remembering the name. 'You're at Calvieri's flat in Milan, not so?'

'That is correct.'

'Have you found something?' Philpott asked.

'We have found an address book hidden in a secret

apartment beneath the floorboards in his bedroom. All

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the names are of known terrorists here in Italy, except for one. There is no address with the name, just two telephone numbers. One home, one work. I checked the code with the operator, and it's Zurich.'

'Zurich?' Philpott repeated, reaching for his pen. 'I'll get on to it right away.'

'The name is Helga Dannhauser,' Molinetti said, then went on to read out the two telephone numbers. 'We have no record of her here in Italy. She could be linked to one of the other European terrorist groups, but none of us has ever heard of her.'

'I appreciate the call, Captain.'

'I only hope you have more luck than we've had. We had already checked out all the names, even before we found the book. We're satisfied that none of them is linked to the case. Another dead end as far as we're concerned.'

'I'll let you know if we come up with anything. I've got the number of Calvieri's flat here somewhere.'

'Colonel Paluzzi knows it anyway. Goodbye, sir, and good luck.'

Philpott replaced the receiver and immediately bleeped Paluzzi. Whitlock rang the office and Philpott asked him to send Paluzzi up to him straight away. When Paluzzi arrived Philpott told him about Molinetti's call.

'Helga Dannhauser?' Paluzzi said thoughtfully as he stared at the sheet of paper Philpott had given to him. 'The name doesn't mean anything to me either.'

'I want you to ring those numbers using the other phone. I would have done it myself but I think you'll get further with your fluency in German.'

Paluzzi went into the outer office and sat down at the secretary's desk. He called the home number first. He let it ring for a minute but there was no reply. He then called the work number.

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'Guten tag, ZRF,' a female voice answered.

'Could I speak to Helga Dannhauser, please,' Paluzzi f said in German.

'Do you know which department she's in?'

'I don't, I'm sorry. A friend of hers gave me this number the last time she visited me in Berlin. She told me to look up Helga if I was ever in Zurich. To be honest, I don't even know what ZRF stands for.'

'Zurich Rundfunk Firma. It's an independent television ' company. I can't say I know any Helga Dannhauser but I'll put you through to the personnel department. She may be new here.'

Paluzzi was put through to the personnel department. He was told that there had never been anybody by that name working at the station. He thanked the assistant and hung up. His body tingled with excitement. He knew he was on to something. He picked up the receiver again and rang police headquarters. He asked them to check the name Helga Dannhauser against the first number he had rung. The name was fed into the central computer and seconds later he was told that the number was registered to a Miss Ute Rietler. He dialled the number of the ZRF station again and asked to speak to Ute Rietler. This time the switchboard operator put him through to the news department. The phone was answered by a gruff male voice.

'Could I speak to Ute Rietler, please?'

'Ute's not here,' came the reply. 'She's in Berne covering the European summit.'

Paluzzi slammed the receiver back into the cradle, then leapt to his feet and raced into the inner office, where he poured out his findings to Philpott.

'There has to be a connection,' Paluzzi said in conclusion. 'It's too much of a coincidence.'

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'I agree. It could be a security measure on his part to list her under a false name.' Philpott picked up the receiverl and rang the press room. He asked to speak to Ute Rietler. j

There was a lengthy pause before the receptionist camel back on the line. 'Miss Rietler returned to her hotel about I twenty minutes ago. She won't be back for another hour. 5 Would you like to speak to one of her assistants?'

'No, it's a personal matter. Which hotel is she staying j at?'

'I don't know, sir.'

'Then find out, lass,' Philpott thundered.

The flustered receptionist came back on the line a few: seconds later. 'The Ambassador, on Seftigenstrasse. Do you know where it is?'

'I'll find it, thank you.'

Philpott wrote the name of the hotel and the street on a sheet of paper and handed it to Paluzzi. 'I want you and C.W. to get over there right away. She's our last chance. And for God's sake, hurry. There're only forty minutes left before the deadline.'

Paluzzi stuffed the paper into his jacket pocket and hurried from the room.

Philpott sat back and looked at the telephone. 'I think we've finally got you.'

Paluzzi found a parking space a block away from the Ambassador Hotel. They ran to the hotel, mounted the steps two at a time, then strode briskly across to the reception desk.

'Can I help you?' a blonde-haired receptionist asked with a glossy smile.

'Ute Rietler, her room number please?' Paluzzi said.

The receptionist punched the name into the computer.

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'Suite 140. I'll tell her you're here. Your names, please?'

'It's okay, we work with her,' Paluzzi replied, forcing a smile. 'She's expecting us.'

'It's on the second floor. Turn right out of the lift.' The receptionist turned her attention to another guest waiting -impatiently to check in.

Both lifts were in use. They took the stairs. Whitlock paused on the second floor to look at his watch. There were twenty-one minutes left before Bellini was due to announce his resignation. He followed Paluzzi to Suite Z4O. Paluzzi rapped loudly on the door. No reply.

'What if she's not here?' Whitlock whispered.

'She's got to be,' Paluzzi replied, and knocked again.

'Who is it?' a female called.

'Police.'

The door was opened on a chain. 'Where's your ID?'

Paluzzi produced a false carabinieri badge and held it up for her to see. Whitlock held up his false Scotland Yard card that had been made at the Test Centre in New York.

'Italian police? British police? You have no jurisdiction here in Switzerland.'

'We're here for the summit. We'd like to ask you some questions, that's all.'

For a moment they thought she would refuse to speak to them. Then the door closed, the chain was removed, and it was opened again to admit them. Ute Rietler was an attractive redhead who looked to be in her late twenties. It was clear, even in the white towelling robe she was wearing, that she had a stunning figure.

'I hope we didn't get you out of the bath,' Paluzzi said.

'I was just getting dried when you knocked,' she replied, closing the door behind them. 'I'm due back at the Offenbach Centre in forty minutes so I'm in a hurry. What is it you wanted to ask me?'

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; 'An old friend of yours,' Paluzzi said, helping himself to a grape from the fruit bowl on the sideboard. 'Tonino Calvieri.'

'Who?' she retorted with a frown.

Whitlock watched her carefully. She hadn't reacted to the name at all. Not even a flicker of the eyes. But then she was ZRF's leading anchorwoman. Philpott had phoned the information through to them on the earphone. And that meant she didn't allow herself to get flustered. An act. And a good one at that.

'You've never heard of Tonino Calvieri?' Paluzzi said, leaning against the sideboard.