Colin Forbes - This United state

'When we've passed junction 65, could you pull up? I need to have a brief word with Marler.'

'Will do…'

'We have just passed junction 65,' Paula reported a few minutes later.

'I know.'

Newman reduced speed, then pulled over and parked. Marler had stopped close behind them. Without being summoned he appeared at the window which Tweed had lowered. He smiled as he leant inside.

'So far, so good. What's the next move?'

'Look at this map.' Tweed used the torch so Marler could see clearly. 'If Ronstadt turns off at junction 63, which I think he will, we're then on route 31 leading direct to Freiburg. But here, close to the city, the road splits. Right fork leads to the Munster – close to the Schwarzwalder Hof where we have rooms booked. Left fork will take us in close to the Colombi, where we also have rooms booked. I just have a feeling that several of the cars behind Ronstadt will peel off, taking the right fork. If that happens Paula will flash her torch three times through the rear window. That means you leave us; take the right fork, follow any cars which do peel off. Wait till the occupants have booked in at the Schwarzwalder Hof, then book in yourselves.'

'Clear enough,' replied Marler. 'What are you going to do?'

'Follow Ronstadt – if he does take the left fork. You can always communicate with me at the Colombi in that eventuality.'

'I'll get back to my car.'

'And I'd better get Moving,' Newman said as Tweed closed his window. 'There's continuous ice now under this snow, so hold on to your seat belts. I have to catch them up.'

Once moving, he increased speed. Now and then he could feel thinner ice crunching on his wheels. He kept up his speed. Paula was tense. Tweed, having given his instructions, leant back and closed his eyes for a brief nap. There was only one moment, as they charged forward, when the car began to skid. Newman went with the skid, hands relaxed on the wheel. He came close to the steel barrier, then straightened up, slowed.

'That's fortunate,' he remarked, 'I can see their red lights. Relax, everybody…'

'We're very close to junction 64,' Paula reported a while later.

'Coming up now,' Newman replied. 'There, we've passed it,' he said a few minutes later. 'So we're now heading for the vital junction 63.'

'Which isn't too far ahead,' Paula warned.

'The decisive moment,' said Tweed, who had opened his eyes.

'Be funny if Ronstadt just keeps on and on,' Newman reflected. 'We'd find ourselves heading for Mannheim.'

'Then I'd be lost,' Tweed admitted. 'All my thinking in ruins.'

'The junction beyond – 62 – also leads to Freiburg,' Paula said optimistically.

She sensed that the tension engendered by doubt was present in the car now. Newman had tightened his grip on the wheel. When she glanced back Keith Kent was leaning forward, staring ahead. Tweed, on the other hand, appeared to be the soul of relaxation, leaning back against his seat, his eyes half-closed.

'I daren't get any closer,' Newman said. 'They'd be sure we are following them.'

It was a pointless remark. Paula realized that, unusually, Newman had felt he had to say something. 'They will be sure by now,' Tweed said quietly. 'Junction 63 is coming up,' Paula said quietly.

'I can read the signs,' Newman snapped back at her. A gloomy silence descended inside the car. No one spoke another word. They were staring ahead.

'We're really goin' to fool 'em good,' Ronstadt gloated. 'Poor old Tweed. He ain't gonna know what to do.'

'If he falls for it,' warned Leo Madison, by his side.

'Moonhead, ain't it occurred to you? I could open the door on your side and shove you out. I reckon the best you could hope for is a cracked skull.'

Madison decided it would be best not to answer back. Ronstadt had a revolver tucked down inside his belt behind the smart suit he was wearing. Madison also recalled how Ronstadt had smashed his fist into Vernon's jaw during the meeting in his suite at the Euler. Ronstadt was a very unpredictable man.

Some distance behind the black Audi convoy, Paula had heaved a sigh of relief when the cars ahead turned at junction 63 onto the road to Freiburg. She relaxed and Tweed squeezed her arm.

'It's going to work out all right.'

'I don't know how you do it. You seem to read Jake Ronstadt's mind. And I have known you do that before, with other people.'

'There's no magic about it. I just try to put myself into the shoes of the enemy. You've got a torch ready to signal to Marler when – or if – it's necessary?'

'I'm ready.'

She settled down to look at the moonlit landscape. The road they were now travelling on was narrower than the autobahn but it had a good surface. It was elevated above the surrounding white fields below them and leafless trees, like sentinels, stood at intervals on either side. It was rather like driving along a tree-lined boulevard. Then she leaned forward, peering ahead. In the mid-distance reared up a brooding white massif, a range like a huge frozen wave.

What's the grim-looking thing in the distance?' she asked.

'That,' Tweed told her, 'is the Black Forest.'

'Looks pretty sinister.'

'In winter, after a heavy fall of snow, it can be beautiful.'

'I'll take your word for it.'

She concentrated on checking her map. They were not too far from where the road forked. When she looked ahead again the massif seemed much higher and menacing. Nearer to them she saw a wall of buildings huddled together. Above them glowed a faint halo which, she assumed, was street lights. She sat up and gazed steadily at the receding red lights of the convoy.

Then she saw the lead car disappearing to the left. Behind it three cars turned to the right. She twisted round in her seat. Marler's car was fairly close. Lifting the torch, she carefully switched it on and off three times. She thought she saw, behind the wheel, Marler's head nodding in acknowledgement.

'You predicted again what they were going to do,' she said to Tweed.

'I don't always get it right.' He leaned forward. 'When you've taken the left fork, Bob, I'll try and guide you to the Colombi. Let's just hope they haven't moved it,' he added with a touch of humour.

'Won't Ronstadt guide me there if I follow him?'

'If I'm right, yes he will. If you're getting too close call on my help. And, everyone, when we get to our rooms, unpack the very minimum of clothing. We may have to leave the hotel very quickly…'

They waited ten minutes parked in a dark street after Ronstadt and the three men with him had entered the Colombi. A uniformed employee took his car away. By night the dark buildings on both sides cast black shadows. In contrast, the illuminated entrance to the Colombi looked warm and inviting. Tweed checked his watch.

'Time to go inside. Let's hope Ronstadt and his thugs have gone to their rooms. If they're hungry they'll probably have to use room service…'

When they alighted from their car, porters took their bags. The same employee who had driven away Ronstadt's car attempted to do the same thing with their Audi. Newman intervened.

'I may have to drive off quickly soon. Please leave it where it is.'

'That would be most unusual, sir.'

'I'm an unusual man.'

Newman smiled at him. He handed him a hundred- mark note. There was no further argument. Tweed and Paula had walked inside. While Tweed was registering Paula glanced round. The hotel reeked of luxury and taste. Leaving the reception area, Tweed glanced into a lounge, stood stock-still.

'What is it?' whispered Paula as Newman joined them.

'Come in and see for yourself.'

Tweed walked in, his coat over his arm. It was like a replay of their arrival at the Three Kings. The first person he saw, leaning forward in an armchair, was Sir Guy Strangeways. In another chair, facing him, with a table between them, Sharon sat with a glass in her hand. She looked up. She raised her eyebrows, then smiled invitingly.