Vorpal Blade (30 page)

'In that case,' said Paula as Tweed caught up with them,
'I'm grabbing the front seat. Straub may be Vice-President
but he can't hog the best seat every time.'

She dived into the front coach the moment the doors
opened. As she did so Russell Straub came off the moun
tain. On the platform Ed Danvers stood, hands on his
hips, not pleased. Tweed and Newman were close when Danvers voiced his complaint.

'Goddamnit, sir, I lost you in the mist. Couldn't see you
anywhere.'

'Ed,' Straub gave his famous facing-the-audience smile,
'I had better remind you. The cabin boy doesn't hang
on to the skipper's tail night and day. And someone's
in my seat.'

'Choose another one,' Danvers snapped, apparently
extremely annoyed.

With everyone aboard, the train started its slow descent. Paula was delighted to see beyond the driver's window an
uninterrupted view of the spiralling line ahead as the train
driver kept down its speed. Tweed had guided Newman
into a seat with no one behind or in front of them.
He quietly told him what had happened, the similarity
between what he had been wearing and Paula's garb.

'Tell her,' Newman said firmly when Tweed had fin
ished.

'I'm not so sure . . .'

'Tell her. She's become very tough. It's your duty to warn her.'

'I'm not sure. If you say so.'

'I do say so.'

As Tweed and Newman got out of the limo outside Le
Montreux Palace a figure grabbed Tweed by the arm led
him along the promenade away from the emerging crowd.
Arthur Beck, Chief of Police.

'Heard where you'd gone. Waited for you to get back.
We've searched Abraham Scale's room at the Eurotel.
Inside a case we found this collection of cartridge papers.
As you'll see they're perforated near the top.'

Tweed recognized the paper Scale had been working
on as he had sat on the steps leading up to the ACTIL
building in London. They had been leaving when Tweed
had spotted Scale, had stopped to have a word with him.
He told Beck about the incident.
A dangerous place to
indulge in such an activity.

He quoted Scale's words to Beck, said that Scale had
explained his hobby was genealogy, the creation of family
trees. Beck handed him the sheaf of cartridge papers for
him to examine. Tweed held up the sheaf, looked closely at
the top sheet. The sun was shining brilliantly even though
it was a cold morning.

'I can see a complex diagram of straight lines,' he mused. 'Scale would have pressed hard to draw the diagram of the Arbogast family tree he was creating. But someone has torn off the top sheet which would have the names. You can see
the rough edge. Pity we can't see the names.'

'I noticed that,' Beck agreed. 'The Arbogast family? So
it looks as though a member of that family is involved.
Abraham Seale is now in an ambulance, should soon
reach Zurich for the autopsy. You tell me Seale used
the word "dangerous". Now he is headless. He used the
right word.'

'Yes, he did,' Tweed said, handing the sheaf back. 'And
you might like to know that Blackjack Diamond is a cousin
of the Arbogasts.'

Tweed went inside the hotel and straight up to Paula's suite. When he knocked on the door it was opened by
Newman who winked at him. He was taking Tweed's
order to guard Paula very seriously.

'I'm on my way,' Newman said and left.

Paula was standing in front of a mirror, brushing her
hair. She gave him a big smile as she put down the brush
and turned round. She gestured towards a chair but Tweed
preferred to remain standing as he took off the overcoat
from his shoulders.

'I have something to tell you that happened up at
Rochers de Naye.'

'Oh, what was that?' she asked as she sat in a hard-
backed chair.

He told her everything, starting with his searching for
the brink of the precipice. She frowned, stood up as he
completed his story. Her reaction took him completely off
guard. She rushed at him.

'You bloody fool! Taking such a risk. Standing at the
edge of that precipice! Why? Just because that's what you
did years ago. A bloody repeat performance. I know your
theory that it could have been me. But for God's sake, it
could have been
you\
After what happened to Foley, to
Holgate. And now to Seale. You could now be a battered
hunk of smashed bones six thousand feet down. How
could you?'

She was thumping him on the chest with her clenched
fist. Then she burst into tears, sobbing nonstop. He put
his arms round her. She buried her head in his chest,
sobbing her heart out. He stroked her hair, used soothing words. She had her hands round his neck. He had a large
handkerchief ready when she suddenly recovered. She took
it, mouthed, 'Thanks,' began wiping her eyes, her face.

Then she stood back, glanced in a wall mirror. She
dabbed her face again with the handkerchief. She managed
a smile. From a carafe he poured her a glass of water. She
drank the lot. He refilled the glass and she sat down. She
managed another smile, a more normal one.

'I wish you'd sit down,' she said. 'You're standing there
like a sentry. I'll be back in a minute.'

She went into the bathroom to wash her face. Tweed sat
down. He was upset because he had so upset her. He felt
guilty. It had not been a good idea. But he'd had to tell
her, to warn her. When she came back she was wearing a
blouse and skirt.

'Those trousers were too hot in here,' she explained. 'I'd
turned down the heating but it takes a while to work.' She
went to the drinks cupboard, took out a balloon glass,
poured brandy, took it to him. 'You look so miserable.
Drink this. It will buck you up.'

She sat in an armchair close to him as he took a sip,
then another one. She was right. She was always right. He
began to feel better. Her voice was calm, normal, when
she spoke.

'I'm so sorry I broke down. I've never done that before. Not like that anyway. I'm OK now. You were right to tell
me I was the target. Absolutely right. I'm very grateful to you. We can always trust each other.'

'True.' He hoped his voice was normal. Talk about
something else. 'Beck grabbed me as
I got out of the car.
On his way to Zurich now.'

He told her about what Beck had found at the Eurotel.
She nodded as he explained in detail his conversation with
the police chief. She crossed her very good legs, perched one elbow on them, placed a finger at the side of her face,
not saying a word until he had finished.

'Maybe there'll be information from Monica at the
police station in Zurich. You did ask Monica to leave a
message with Beck.'

'I know. I think the next thing we do is we all travel by
train to Zurich.'

'I'd say that was the best idea.'

'Just remind me,' he suggested, 'how many people we
know have travelled to America. We have heard a bit of
that data here and there.'

He was so relieved they were talking normally again.
He also realized how very fond of Paula he was. What surprised him was that the affection seemed to be reciprocated. She used her fingers to count off who had travelled to America.

'In no particular order, Marienetta, now and again.
Sophie flies out more frequently. Roman has been there.
Aboard the Gulfstream, the one they keep hidden away at
Heathrow, I imagine. Black Jack darts off there, probably
when the whim strikes him. You can visualize him lighting
up New York - or Boston. We know Sam Snyder goes
there. Poor Abraham Seale went there a lot on lecture
tours. Russell Straub, of course, is over there most of the
time. Now he's over here, has been for days. No one seems
to know why.'

'And he evades his bodyguard, Ed Danvers, a lot. Why,
I wonder?'

'No idea.' She frowned. 'Could Danvers travel back to the States every now and again?'

'No idea.'

'Did you know Broden, Roman's security chief, was on
the mountain?'

'I most certainly didn't. Are you sure?'

'Certain. He travelled somewhere on the train wearing
a heavy fur coat, a fur hat and huge dark glasses. He was
the last one to come down. I saw him emerge from the
mist. Recognized him because of the way he walked. Body
language. That awful phrase.'

'Was he anywhere near Roman?'

'No. Broden came down a long time after Roman was
near the station. So he wasn't acting as bodyguard to
his boss. Just like Ed Danvers wasn't. Are we getting
anywhere?'

'I'm waiting for a signal, maybe an observation, which
will pinpoint someone. As we go along we learn more and more.'

'Well, no more murders, I hope.'

'Don't count on it.'

20

Zurich, the powerhouse of Switzerland. They would soon
be landing. In Montreux Tweed had changed his mind
about using the train, which involved changing expresses.
Checking an air timetable he calculated they could be
driven back to Geneva by hotel limos, have time for lunch
at Cointrin Airport, then take an internal Swissair flight to
Zurich. Marler was in the seat next to him while Paula and
Newman occupied the seats behind them. At one stage aboard the plane she had tapped Tweed on the shoulder.

'Look out of the window. I thought I saw Rochers
de Naye.'

'No, you wouldn't,' Tweed replied, staring out of his
window.

To the south reared the majestic range of the highest
mountains in Europe, the Bernese Oberland. Their crests
were snow-tipped at high altitude. He saw the Jungfrau,
pointed it out to Paula. The Bernese Oberland loomed
like a giant mountain wall, which is what it was. The sun
sparkled on the snow. Paula thought it one of the most
awesome sights she had ever seen.

'Rochers de Naye,' Tweed explained over his shoulder, 'is a southern projection of that massive range. And in any
case not high enough to be seen from here.'

'Thank God there wasn't snow on Rochers de Naye,'
Paula said under her breath, thinking of Tweed perched
on the edge.

They lost more and more height. As the machine canted
to the left prior to landing he had a clear view of Kloten Airport. He leaned over Marler and stared. Paula gripped
his shoulder, kept her voice down.