Colin Forbes - By Stealth

`I have an unmarked car waiting. Where to? The Hilton?'

`As usual.'

Butler had stayed in the background. He took a taxi to the hotel. As Benoit sat in a traffic jam he turned to Tweed, who sat beside him.

`It gets grimmer, this business, I fear. While you were away there have been two more murders.'

`Who?' Tweed asked in a normal voice, masking his anxiety.

`A man called Joseph Mordaunt, an acquaintance of Newman's, I understand.'

`I met him briefly near Lymington on the south coast. I wouldn't have thought he was important.'

`Important enough to someone to have him killed,' Benoit commented. 'By cyanide injection.'

`The same technique as used on the cab driver in Marolles,' Tweed recalled. 'Someone has an instrument disguised as an everyday item. I have the feeling I have seen it. I've no idea when. And the second murder?'

`Lucie Delvaux's body was dragged out of the River Meuse. Again, first killed by a cyanide injection. Delvaux is a broken man – mentally and physically.'

`As you say, it is getting grimmer. Poor Gaston.' Tweed was frowning. 'Water,' he said. 'Always an element near by is water.'

`Please explain,' Benoit suggested as the car began moving again.

`Irene, the daughter of Sir Gerald Andover – her body was taken out of the sea near Lymington. Also killed by an injection of cyanide.' And Moor's Landing was located on the banks of the River Beaulieu, he was thinking, but kept the thought to himself. 'Water,' he repeated, `Lucie's body is found in the River Meuse.'

`You think water is significant?'

`Probably just a coincidence.'

Tweed no longer believed what he'd just said. A Stealth ship would operate on water. Something else he had no intention of broadcasting.

`We have been busy in another direction also,' Benoit informed him. 'Dr Hyde. I phoned the news we'd found he stayed at a dump called the Hermitage here in Brussels. Since then I sent teams to Liege. One of my men showed this Dr Hyde's photograph to a boarding-house landlady in that city. We missed him by one hour. He told her he was leaving for Brussels.'

`Which means Brussels is the last place he's heading for next. But the information is valuable. Thank you for your efforts.'

`I could now blanket Antwerp,' Benoit suggested. `Don't bother. I think Hyde has left Belgium. Perhaps for Holland, maybe Germany.'

They were now driving down the side road parallel to the Boulevard de Waterloo which led to the Hilton.

Tweed was encouraged by the news about Hyde. He felt they were catching up with him.

Tactfully, Benoit did not accompany Tweed into the Hilton. Earlier he had examined the guest list in search of a suspect. It had proved hopeless: too many people and no familiar name. Also he was not exactly popular with the manager.

Tweed found the executive room he'd paid for in advance for several days was still available. He paid out more money to keep them happy. As he stepped out of the elevator on the twentieth floor he saw Marler leaving Newman's room.

`You've come back to Murder City,' Marler greeted him with black humour.

`I know. Where is everyone?'

In Newman's room. You want to see someone?' `All of you. Urgently …'

Two minutes later Paula was unpacking his case while Newman sat on a couch next to Pete Nield. Marler took up his usual stance, leaning against a wall while he lit a king-size. Tweed was pacing the room, hands behind his back, his manner brisk as he spoke.

`We're leaving tomorrow as early as possible. Butler has come with me. At reception I was able to scribble a note with my room number and a request for him to join us.' He had hardly finished speaking when someone tapped on the door. Newman slid his hand inside his jacket, gripped the butt of his Smith amp; Wesson, unlocked the door, and Butler walked in.

`Mobilizing a heavy team,' Newman observed, relocking the door.

`Yes,' Tweed confirmed. 'And Philip Cardon may be joining us later.'

`Why are you assembling all this manpower?' Paula asked as she put a pile of Tweed's shirts into the drawer. `Normally you work with the minimum of personnel – so they won't be noticed.'

`True. But this situation is really menacing. We have no idea how many thugs – killers – Wand has at his disposal. I suspect far more than would give us a good night's rest. I've little doubt it's going to take all the resources we can muster to cope with the devious Dr Wand.'

`Your trip to London was successful?' Paula enquired. `I think so …'

Tweed proceeded to give them all a concise account of who he had met, what they had told him, and the plans he had made for co-operation from certain key people.

`I'd say you've been on the trot,' Marler concluded.

`You could say that. One important point we must deal with at once. The weapons Benoit loaned us. Marler, I need that hold-all you carry about – with the Armalite inside it..' He continued as Marler left the room. 'All those weapons must be dumped into the hold-all and I'll give them back to Benoit. Airport security.. Marler returned, and when the weapons were inside Tweed zipped it up.

`Back in a minute. Benoit, who met me at the airport, said he'd wait in the car half an hour in case I wanted to consult him.'

Newman looked round the room when Tweed had gone. Paula had finished her unpacking and was staring out of the window where a grey drizzle was gradually blotting out the city.

`We'd better brace ourselves,' Newman said. 'He's in his dynamo of action stage…'

Walking outside into the wet, Tweed saw a new doorman by the side of Benoit's car, obviously enquiring who he was. Benoit, without looking at him, held up his identity folder, staring ahead. The doorman retreated rapidly. Benoit leaned over, opened the front passenger- seat door, and Tweed sat beside him.

Handing back the hold-all containing the weapons, Tweed thanked him. He then showed him a photo.

`Does the place marked with a cross on the map mean anything to you?'

`Odd you should bring that up. I was talking to one of the officials at Ghent's Town Hall recently. It's a new housing development. Only recently occupied – six months or so ago. Vieux-Fontaine. Not even signposted.'

`Who lives there?'

`No one seems to know. The rumour is they're calling themselves executives – but really they're top security personnel who guard our high-life EC Commissioners. I happen to know that's rubbish. Since they haven't committed any known criminal offence no one is bothered.'

`They may well be saboteurs and spies smuggled into the country. Please leave them in peace – until I contact you. Then raid the place at a mutually agreed time.'

`You usually know what you're doing.' Benoit paused. `I'm going back to headquarters now. I'll organize a strike force to be ready for when you warn me.'

`I'm leaving Brussels tomorrow. Thank you for all your co-operation – especially with that helicopter armada which descended on Liege Airport.'

`It was nothing.' Benoit gripped Tweed's arm. 'Now I urge you to take care of yourself. I sense you could be walking into a zone of maximum danger.'

`Hamburg.'

`I couldn't interview Dr Wand, but I did send men to watch his Lear jet on standby at Zaventem. The security officer told them the pilot had filed a flight plan. For Hamburg. Late this afternoon Dr Wand left aboard that jet with a Luxemburger called Starmberg. A zone of maximum danger,' Benoit repeated.

The flight for Hamburg aboard Hamburg Airlines was due to take off at 11.15 a.m. As Paula walked alongside Tweed towards the waiting aircraft she asked the question which had been intriguing her.

`Why Hamburg?'

'To see Hugo Westendorf, the one-time Iron Man of Germany who retired three months or so ago without warning. He was Minister of the Interior.'