Colin Forbes - This United state

They ordered liqueurs from the girl who, at that moment, took up her position behind the bar counter. As soon as she saw them she came over and took their orders.

'Sharon,' Tweed began, 'I got the impression from what you said in the dining room that you are really fed up with the Americans'

'I am. Which is why I'm out here. I was appalled to hear Ronstadt is in town. I can't stop myself working, but officially I'm here on holiday. I'm floating around while I take a big decision. I'm getting away from it all so I can think. I'm playing with the idea of moving to living in Britain permanently. Down at my manor in Dorset.'

'So you're staying on in Basel?'

'No. I need different surroundings. I'm soon going to Freiburg, staying at the Hotel Colombi, which has five stars. You know, you look very smart in that blue bird's-eye suit. Pity that pocket bulges.'

Tweed put his hand in his pocket, brought out Beck's mobile. He smiled with resignation.

'Should have left it in my room. Picked it up automatically.'

He had hardly spoken when the mobile started buzzing. He stood up, shrugged, looked at Sharon apologetically.

'Excuse me. I refuse to use these things when I'm with guests in a restaurant or bar. I'll be back in a minute…`

He walked over to an empty table well away from anyone else. Only then did he answer the mobile phone. It was Beck on the line.

'Tweed, where are you now?'

'Just finished dinner in the hotel.'

'Please get over here quickly. It's an emergency.' Tweed returned to the guest table, apologized, thanked Sharon for a marvellous evening, explained he had to rush off to a meeting. He then walked swiftly into the Brasserie. Marler, drinking coffee, looked up as Tweed swept past him. Tweed was about to step in the lift when he found Marler behind him. As they ascended he told Marler what had happened.

'I'm coming with you. No argument…'

'All hell has broken out in London,' Beck said grimly.

Tweed was taking off his coat. A uniformed policeman took it and also Marler's. Beck's office at police headquarters was bleak. The police chief was sitting down t a large wooden desk, its surface empty except for two phones and a pad with scribbles on it. Tweed sat down facing him, with Marler by his side.

'Tell me,' Tweed said.

'Late this morning a huge bomb exploded inside a store in Regent Street. There was a sale on. Crowded with shoppers. Reports say there are at least a hundred dead, many more injured. I had all this from Chief Inspector – now Superintendent – Roy Buchanan. Monica had phoned Berne. Luckily spoke to my assistant, who knows her. He gave her my number here. She passed it to Buchanan, who has phoned me, wants you to call him.'

'Then I'll do that from here, if I may.'

'There's more. Buchanan said an American syndicate has bought the Daily Despatch. One condition was they took over as soon as the deal was signed. An American editor has arrived. His first edition has a huge splash headline – FBI MUST TAKE OVER.'

'The net tightens,' Tweed said quietly.

'I can get Buchanan for you now.'

'Do it, please…'

Marler was looking round the office. The walls were painted an uninviting green. Two metal filing cabinets stood in one corner. The room was illuminated by fluorescent tubes suspended from the ceiling. The blinds over the windows were closed.

'Tweed here, Roy.'

'Beck has told you?'

'Yes. About Regent Street. The American takeover of the Despatch. Its damnable headline.'

`So you're partly in the picture. At lunchtime the Commissioner asked me to take over as head of the Anti-Terrorist Squad. I told him I must have full powers. He said the PM had already agreed that.'

'Sounds as though the PM's backbone has stiffened.'

'Regent Street was the last straw. They also tried to blow up a major power station. We had it covertly guarded. Two cars drove up close to it. They were stopped. The driver in the first car dived out, ran back to the second vehicle, dived into it. The second car took off, a policeman stood in its way to stop it – the car drove over him. He's dead. The first car was a mobile bomb. The radio device which would have detonated it from a distance was dismantled.'

'You've got a big job on your hands.'

'The one I wanted. I sent you a tape recording of my TV broadcast to the nation this afternoon. Has it arrived?' 'Not yet.'

'It will do any moment. Forget vanity. I want you to see how I'm going to handle the situation. How are you doing?'

'We've got a bunch of them out here. We may be on the eve of a major battle.'

'Good luck. I must go now.'

'Take care.'

Tweed put down the phone. He stood up, hands in his pockets, staring into space. Marler thought he had never seen him stand so motionless, with such an expression on his face. It reminded him of a picture he had once seen of Bismarck. Tweed came out of his trance-like stance.

'Thank you, Arthur. Can I ask you a favour? When we cross the border into Germany could you be sure Marler's car isn't searched?'

'I'm sure Marler wouldn't be carrying anything I would disapprove of,' Beck smiled drily. 'And I'll warn the officer at the checkpoint to leave him alone. How many cars have you?'

'Just two,' Tweed replied.

Beck tore off the top sheet of his pad. He pushed it towards them. Then he rolled a pen across the table.

'Could you put down the registration numbers of your cars?'

'I can do that,' Marler told him, reaching for pad and pen.

'I'll pass those on to the checkpoint officer,' Beck told them.

'One final point, Arthur,' Tweed interjected. `I'm assuming the same arrangement applies. You'll call me on your mobile as soon as you know Ronstadt is on the move?' -

'I was going to do that anyway. Strictly between us, I have installed a new plain-clothes officer from Berne as a guest at the Euler. He'll inform me the moment he sees signs the Americans are leaving.'

'I'd like to thank you for your very thorough cooperation,' Tweed said. 'If there's what I think there is in the Black Forest you will have played a key role.'

'Nonsense.' Beck paused. 'I hope you approve, but I took it on myself to phone your old friend, Otto Kuhlmann, chief of the Kriminalpolizei in Wiesbaden. He promised me he wouldn't get in your way, but he might just come in useful.'

'Ronstadt is not the only man who can close in a net. Thank you again. I'd better get back to the hotel. I have to brief my people.'

Ronstadt sat in the bar at the Euler with Vernon. They were the only two people in the place, except for the barman, who was a long distance from their table. Ronstadt was wearing his favourite outfit, a heavy brown leather jacket with leather trousers of the same colour, and rubber-soled shoes which made not a sound when he was moving.

'You and Brad dump all the weapons, the rest_ of the explosives?' Ronstadt asked.

'Sure, Chief.'

'Had to be in daylight, I guess,' Ronstadt said casually.

'No. After dark. We drove up the river. Got well out of Basel, found a quiet place. No houses. No people. Nothin' at all. Backed the car up to the river's edge. Brad handed me the stuff, I dumped it in the river.'

'You know somethin'? Go on like this and you'll make deputy.'

'Thought I was that now.'

'Temporary deputy – until I see how you make out. Say, Vernon, you see a big snake. Whaddya do?'

'Run like hell.

'So, mebbe, Vernon, you won't make it. You cut off its head.

'I don't get where you're comin' from.'

'Tweed. He's the head of the snake's causin' me trouble. So I made arrangements. Can't risk him messing with us where we's goin' any time now.'

'That's smart, Chief. Very smart.'

'I thought it was.' Ronstadt chuckled, an unpleasant sound. 'I thought it was…'