Colin Forbes - By Stealth

`As you will see, Miss Grey, the operating table is ready. Now there is nothing to worry about. I am going to give you an injection which will put you to sleep. Then I will move you on to the table…'

With Butler following close behind in his own Volvo, Marler had driven at speed to 'Fonder. The sky was a sea of grey clouds scudding above him in the wind. He arrived, driving slowly now, in the cobbled street where his lodging house was situated.

To his surprise he saw a grey BMW parked on the opposite side of the street facing his temporary home. Then he saw Newman, smoking a cigarette, striding up and down with obvious impatience. Second surprise. As he parked, Newman opened the passenger seat door and sat beside him.

`Don't turn off the engine,' Newman snapped. `If you say so,' Marler replied calmly.

`Have you got a lead to where they're holding Paula?' Newman demanded.

Butler had left his own car, was leaning outside the open window, listening.

`Not yet,' Marler admitted reluctantly. 'But we have some sort of a lead as to where that cab driver dropped Dr Hyde,' he added quickly.

Newman's manner and expression was bleak. He seemed on the verge of explosion point.

`Far from here? Tell me quickly.'

Tersely, Marler recalled the information Butler had extracted from Johnny Clausen. He also explained how he knew the area from his drive beyond Hoger the previous night. Butler produced his map, showed Newman the cross marking the point where Clausen had dropped Hyde.

`Leave your car here,' Newman ordered Marler. 'We'll drive there in my BMW.' He looked at Butler. 'You keep up with us in your Volvo. Come on! Every minute could count.' He paused, half-way out of the car. 'Are you both armed?'

`I am,' Butler said. 'Walther.' He patted his hip.

`And that hold-all on the floor in the back contains my Armalite,' Marler informed him.

`Bring it with you. And better switch off your engine…'

Marler sat beside Newman as they accelerated once outside Tonder. Newman gestured with his head towards the windscreen, which was smeared with gritty sand.

`Tonder is a gem. Coming down the coast road through the South Jutland area is pure hell. God, what a wasteland! Like Macbeth's blasted heath. Miserable scrubland. Nothing but sand and weedy tufts of grass. Then the wind blows up the blasted sand all the time. It's a nightmare.'

`I have found Dr Wand's colony of twenty-eight new bungalows, all furnished and waiting for occupation. In a remote spot close to the sea, hidden behind sand dunes. And it is in the area marked on one of those maps brought back from Lop Nor by Cardon. Where is Cardon? And Tweed?' Marler asked.

`Cardon is doing his own thing. Tweed stopped off at some closely guarded military encampment south of Esbjerg. He thinks Stealth is due tonight. But Paula is our priority.'

`Agreed.'

Marler kept quiet for a while, sensing Newman's mood of fury and frustration. It was Newman who broke the silence when they were north of Hoger, approaching the intersection where Marler had turned west heading straight for the sea.

`You must have driven around a lot – searching. Sure that you haven't seen a likely place where they might be holding Paula? Something odd that caught your attention?'

Marler snapped his fingers. Newman's phrasing had triggered off a recollection. He was still guiding him.

`Slow down, we're coming to a side road off to the left. Not much of a road, but take it…'

'Why?'

`Stop asking bloody fool questions. Slow down. We turn off here to the left,' Marler snapped.

Newman swung the wheel and they drove more slowly down a strip of road. Marler spoke as he leaned forward to see more clearly while the wipers whipped madly to clear the sand.

`A remote house. Sizeable, but derelict, I thought. The light was just about as it is now. Fading. Driving past the front twenty yards or so away – across sand off the road – I saw a light in a semi-basement window. When it vanished, I thought I'd imagined it. Now I don't think I did. There it is. Get ready to turn off the road, drive over the sand when I say so. And don't ask why!'

`A green Renault? That was the car parked by the road where that cab driver dropped Hyde?'

`A green Renault, yes.'

`There's some sort of shed at the back which could serve as a garage…'

`Turn on to the sand. Now!'

After waking Paula, Hyde walked away to the operating table, picked up a hypodermic out of an enamel tray where his instruments were neatly laid out. He took his time. Never rush things.

Behind him Paula slid her hands out from under the straps. She had struggled for hours to achieve freedom of movement. Once her hands had been freed, she had loosened the straps round her ankles. Left alone, she had exercised her aching legs, bending her knees time and again, flexing her wrists, gripping the fingers of one hand with the other.

Would her legs hold her up? Hyde had his enamel tray at the far end of the long table. She whipped her legs on to the wooden floor. It was a one-to-one duel – but only before Ilena, the ox-like horror, returned.

She felt unsteady but forced herself to move to her end of the table. At that moment Dr Hyde turned round, hypodermic grasped in his right hand, saw her. His eyes widened with surprise, then with manic fury. lie moved towards her and she waited. When he was close she made her legs run down the far side of the table – so they had a barrier between them.

Her right hand grasped a scalpel as he came after her. A moment later he was close. Her other hand picked up a small glass containing a blue liquid. She threw whatever the contents were into his face. He stopped, blinked, put his left hand up to his glasses. Still unsteady, Paula lurched forward. Remembering something else Butler had taught her on the training course, she aimed the scalpel for a point between his ribs. Hit the ribs and it would glance off. She put all her strength behind the thrust, felt the scalpel sink in through the cloth of his coat and well beyond. Like a knife going into butter, she thought viciously. No mercy for this bastard. She rammed the scalpel in deep, let go, stood back.

Expressions flitted across Hyde's face as he stood stock-still. Surprise, amazement, fear. The hand holding the hypodermic flopped gently on the table, releasing the hypodermic with its deadly needle point. A patch of red welled up over his white coat where the scalpel had penetrated. He took two steps towards the foot of the staircase, then slumped face-down to the floor.

He wriggled, rolled over on to his back, his legs flapping on the floor, then there was less motion and he let out a deep groan of pain.

Paula, more hard-faced than anyone had ever seen her, picked up the hypodermic. Ilena would be back soon with her bowl of boiling water. Paula was not confident she could successfully eliminate the stocky nurse. And as soon as she entered the basement she'd see Hyde lying on the floor.

Paula, her strength growing with every movement, climbed the stairs and stood on the platform. She held the hypodermic ready and prayed. That was when she heard the key being inserted in the lock, but it was not turned. In the hall someone was hammering on the outer door.

After pressing the bell and hearing nothing inside, Newman used his fist to hammer on the heavy front door of the house. They had found a green Renault inside the makeshift garage at the back. This was the place. He heard sounds of bolts being withdrawn, a clumsy key being turned. He had a smile on his face as the door swung slowly inwards.

A squat, slab-faced woman with very short hair, wearing a white coat, faced him. She held a long-barrelled Mauser in her hand, aimed at his stomach. He frowned, raised his hands.