Colin Forbes - The Power

Unlike Norton, Mencken was still very much concerned with the fact that Tweed still survived. It was an insult to his professional integrity. Reaching Munster, he parked his car close to Yellow, got out into the bitter night and walked to give special orders to this reserve team. Cars Orange and Brown were already on their way south to Switzerland. Mencken had warned them over his mobile phone first to collect their bags from the Bristol, to pay their bills. In his own cunning way Mencken rivalled Norton in attention to detail.

'Jason,' he began without ceremony, talking through the open window, 'later you grease your butts and move like the wind to this dump, Ouchy. I've marked it on this spare map. OK? It had better be. Put your men up in a small hotel. Avoid the Chateau d'Ouchy – I've written that name down on the edge of the map.'

'You said later. We've got a job to do first?'

Jason spoke in a hoarse tone – he was a three-pack a day smoker. His large head and face were faintly illuminated by a nearby street lamp. With his piggy eyes, his pug nose and his lower teeth protruding slightly above his bottom lip, even Mencken thought he looked horrific.

'You've got three other men,' Mencken continued. 'I want you to drive straight to the Bristol. Make yourselves inconspicuous – and keep a lookout for Tweed and his mob.'

'We lose that guy for ever – and the rest of his team?' Jason suggested hopefully.

'You do just that. I'll be following you, get there later. Do a nice quiet job. Afterwards maybe you can prop them up in their beds in their rooms. Give the night maid a nice surprise,' Mencken suggested with his macabre sense of humour.

To the Brasserie!' Tweed called out as they approached closer to the Hotel Bristol. 'And a glass of Riesling!'

It was an attempt to cheer up his passengers. He sensed that reaction was setting in after the events of the day.

'Anyone would think you hadn't eaten or drunk a thing since leaving Colmar,'Paula chided him.

In fact they had taken refreshment 'on the hoof. Before leaving the Bristol in the morning Paula had collected a large quantity of sandwich au jambon – ham inside French bread. She had also had six Thermoses, purchased in Basle, filled with coffee and another one with cold milk. In addition she had brought twelve litre-bottles of mineral water.

They had eaten and slaked their thirst during the first stage of their descent from the chateau, and later after the cataclysmic collapse of the cliff. At the same time, Paula reflected, they had had no more than snacks and she too was feeling peckish.

'Are we safe now?' Amberg suddenly demanded in a commanding voice.

'No,' Tweed told him. 'We are only safe when we have our hands on the film and the tape. So really,' he went on in an offhand manner, 'it's entirely up to you, Amberg.'

'They won't know we're going to Ouchy,' the banker suggested.

'Don't count on that either,' Tweed replied, determined to keep the Swiss rattled.

'Do stop fussing, Walter,' Eve broke in with one of her rare interventions. Her manner was calm, her voice fresh. Paula admired her stamina. 'Walter,' Eve continued, 'if you're nervous don't eat or drink anything at dinner. You might get indigestion. You wouldn't like that, Walter,' she ended, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Amberg relapsed into silence after casting her a venomous look which Paula noticed. The traffic was now very heavy and, following Newman, Tweed was inching the Espace next to the kerb along the wide pavement outside the shops facing the railway station.

He braked as Newman stopped the station wagon ahead. It occurred to Tweed that it was along this same pavement at a later hour that Jennie Blade had encountered the Shadow Man. What had been her description of the sinister figure? A man wearing a long black overcoat and a wide-brimmed hat which completely concealed his face. Had she been telling the truth? he wondered. Newman appeared at his open window.

'I suggest you all get out here and walk straight into the Brasserie where there are other people. Marler is parking the station wagon a short distance away. I'll take over the wheel of the Espace. Paula, could you run back to the BMW which is pulled up a few yards behind? I want you to escort Jennie into the Brasserie. But first tell Gaunt to follow me in the Espace. And tell Gaunt – I don't want any argument.'

'Butler and Nield?' Tweed queried.

Told over my walkie-talkie to follow the convoy. Now, I want to get behind that wheel fast…'

Tweed dropped into the road and hurried to the pavement followed by Paula, Eve, Amberg and Cardon, who had a firm hand on the arm of the Swiss. Newman, Tweed ruminated, was now capable of taking control of the whole operation if anything happened to him.

Eve caught up with him, linked her arm inside his, her rifle concealed under her long trench coat. Paula ran back to where Gaunt had begun to honk his horn non-stop, just when they didn't want to be noticed. Jennie lowered her window when she saw Paula coming. Paula stopped, her tone icy as she addressed Gaunt.

'Stop making that noise at once. Jennie, get out and I will take you inside the Brasserie.'

As Jennie opened the door, moving quickly, Gaunt leaned forward. He glared at Paula.

'Just who do you think you're addressing?' he demanded in a lofty tone.

'You, you stupid arrogant bastard!' she blazed. 'You're putting people's lives in danger. To hell with your own, but get that tin can moving pronto.'

Gaunt was so taken aback, he obeyed. As Paula slammed the door shut he nodded to her, began moving forward, following Newman who was disappearing round the corner in the Espace. Paula took Jennie by the arm, glanced at the mob of people pushing and shoving up against each other while they hurried across to the station. Gaunt had just beaten the lights before they turned red.

Rush hour with a vengeance. Everyone looked sick of doing a day's boring work, sick of trudging through the slush, sick of the penetrating cold. Paula found the normality of all this strangely reassuring after their nightmare trip into the Vosges.

A wave of warmth met them as they pushed open the doors into the well-heated Brasserie. Tweed was already seated at a table in the dining area closest to the hotel with Eve beside him. Cardon sat at the end of the long table where he could survey the whole restaurant.

'A glass of Riesling for everyone who likes the idea,' Tweed announced. 'I think we need a stimulant before we go to our rooms and freshen up before dinner.'

Well, at least we're safe in here, Paula was thinking as she sat next to Cardon and Jennie chose the chair next to hers. Paula agreed enthusiastically to some Riesling and glanced round the restaurant. A handful of locals having a drink on their way home. Then she frowned.

At a table by himself, not ten feet away, sat one of the most repulsive men she'd ever seen, a man who looked just like a bulldog.

Norton drove very slowly when he reached Kaysersberg. The snow was piled up in the ancient narrow streets. This was some country. Hadn't they ever heard of snow-ploughs? He parked the Renault in a side-street some distance from the Green Tree. The less the proprietor of the small hotel knew about him the better.

He met no one as he trudged back through the snow. The old buildings, lit by wrought-iron lamps, had oak beams sunk into the plaster walls. The plaster had a different colour for each building – bright scarlet, deep ochre, flaming orange. Kaysersberg was beautiful, but Norton noticed none of it. Whole lot ought to be pulled down, replaced by modern buildings with plenty of plate-glass.

He walked into the entrance hall of the Green Tree, ignoring the iron scraper outside, littering the carpet with snow. The woman behind the desk called out to him.