Colin Forbes - The Power

'OK to come ashore,' he drawled. He handed a sheet of paper to Tweed. 'That lists the hotels round here where Norton's men are stationed. The Chateau d'Ouchy, so far as I can tell, is clean…'

Tweed had parked the Espace in a courtyard alongside the hotel and next to Marler's red Mercedes. He entered reception with Paula, who spoke to the girl behind the counter, reminding her of the phoned reservations.

'And you said we could have dinner even if we arrived at a late hour.'

'The dining-room is at your service, but only when you are ready.'

'I think we'd like to go up to our rooms to freshen up first,' Tweed told her.

He had seen Ives coming in, accompanied by Amberg and Cardon. Behind them followed Butler and Nield flanking a defeated-looking Joel Dyson. He ordered Butler to take turns with Nield in guarding Dyson in his room, that the photographer was only to be given sandwiches and mineral water, then he asked Paula and Newman to accompany him with Ives to his room after registering. There was no time to waste. Lord knew what the morning would bring.

'What sort of person would those six wealthy women who were then brutally raped and murdered stop for – driving in the middle of nowhere in the dark?'

Tweed deliberately repeated the key question he had put to Barton Ives aboard the train from Colmar to Basle. He had previously recalled, for the sake of Paula and Newman, in abbreviated form the story Ives had told him. The FBI man sat up straight on the couch he occupied with Paula, facing Tweed and Newman who were sitting in chairs.

'Yes, that was the question I asked myself over and over again. Then, in the last two cases, there was someone else driving late on the fatal nights. They overtook the cars of the victims – and saw a brown Cadillac parked in a nearby field. I had a hunch, a sudden flash of inspiration, luck – call it what you will. I began checking the movements of a certain man to see whether by chance he was in the state concerned on any of the six fatal nights.'

Ives paused, lit a rare cigarette. Paula glanced round at the suite she had booked for Tweed. It had its own sitting area, spacious and comfortable, and beyond a row of arches, the bedroom. She concentrated again on Ives as he continued.

'The checking on this point wasn't too difficult. What was difficult was carrying out my enquiries without anyone knowing what I was doing. If I was right I knew my life could be in danger. Power carries a lot of clout.'

'So you were investigating a powerful man?' Paula suggested.

'Powerful and ruthless,' Ives agreed. 'To get where he had, to get where he is now. As I checked I began to get more excited – I was hitting more pay dirt than I'd ever really believed I would. The person I was after had made a political speech early in the evening in the same state in the first three cases. And the city where he'd made the speech wasn't all that far, in driving distance, from where a woman was raped and murdered later that same evening.'

'Circumstantial. But not conclusive,' Tweed commented.

'Wait!' Ives held up a hand, stubbed out the cigarette. 'I went on checking the last three cases. Certain that the same circumstances wouldn't apply. But, by God, they did. Senator X – as he then was – had again spoken in public in all three states hours before the last three women victims were attacked and died. A lot of speeches in six states, but then he was running for the highest-' Ives broke off briefly. 'I'll get to that in a minute.'

'What about this Senator's movements after he'd made his speeches?' Tweed asked. 'Were you able to check them?'

That was my next task. Even more difficult to conceal. And he has a very shrewd hatchet woman who runs a whole network of informants. But over a period of time I did manage to do just that – to check his movements after he left the place where he'd made his speech, lifted his audience out of their seats – a real rabble rouser. He was known for wanting to be on his own after bringing the roof down. Always says he needs to recharge his batteries, go some place on his own, drink one bottle of beer. He did exactly that after all six speeches – on the nights when later within driving distance, I checked the times – a woman was raped, murdered.'

'So at least he has no alibi,' Tweed remarked.

'But he does have a brown Caddy he likes driving. And this I haven't ever told anyone so far. I explored round the area of the sixth victim, combed the grass for hours. I was about to call it zilch when I found this empty beer bottle, with a complete set of fingerprints. Some beer that the guy I was checking on likes. That bottle – inside a plastic bag – is in the boot of the Lincoln Continental I have hidden away in an old barn.'

'Again the evidence is circumstantial,' Tweed pointed out. 'No offence, but the trouble is a court would only have your word for where you found that bottle. Unless you can get the fingerprints of the man you were tracking. Of course, if they match…'

'Not so easy.' Ives lit a fresh cigarette. 'Not so easy,' he repeated. 'Not to obtain the fingerprints of ex-Senator Bradford March, now President of the United States.'

In Switzerland it was not difficult the following morning for Marler to obtain a film projector, a screen and the other equipment he needed on Tweed's instructions. He arrived back at the hotel at 8.30a.m. to find Tweed having breakfast with Paula and Newman.

'I lay awake half the night,' Paula was saying. 'I still can't believe the President of the United States is guilty of such horrific crimes.'

'Read the history of previous occupants of the Oval Office,' suggested Barton Ives who had overheard her remark as he joined them. 'Under our crazy electoral system a really depraved guy was bound to get there one day. He has.'

'What do we do next?' Paula asked.

'You've got everything?' Tweed checked with Marler as he sat down.

'Everything.'

'Then our next trip is to take Amberg to his branch here, force him to produce the film and tape Dyson gave them in Zurich for safekeeping. Then we view the film inside the bank…'

Amberg was still under guard in his room with Cardon keeping him company. Their breakfast came up from room service. Joel Dyson was also trapped in his room with an extremely unsympathetic Butler acting as his guard.

'You know we were followed here all the way from Basle?' Newman warned his chief.

'Not to worry – it was an unmarked car but they would be Beck's men. After seeing us pass through the control at Basle Station when we arrived from Colmar he's not a man to let us out of his sight. Talk of the devil…'

Arthur Beck, wearing a smart grey suit, walked into the dining-room, which overlooked a small garden. He refused an offer of coffee, bent down to whisper to Tweed.

'I have brought a small army of men into Ouchy. We saw the Americans returning. So-called diplomats waiting for their postings. This is too much. I'm organizing a dragnet to check all the hotels.'

'I can save you time.' Tweed produced the list Marler had drawn up the previous evening. This lists where they all are. They will be armed.'

'So are my men.' Beck smiled wryly. 'Thank you for doing my job for me. May I ask how you tracked them down?'

'Marler, tell our friend about your researches.'

'Not difficult,' drawled Marler. 'I'd call at a hotel, tell the night clerk some American friends of mine had arrived, that I wanted to pay them some money I owed to them. Also I needed a room for the night and how much would it be? I had a handful of Swiss coins – which can be of reasonable value – and pushed them over the far edge of the counter. While he was scrabbling for them I checked his box of registration slips, memorized all names where the nationality was American. I then told the clerk I'd left my passport in my car, that I'd be back for the room I'd paid for. Then on to the next hotel. Quite easy.'