Colin Forbes - The Janus Man

`Emergency. Diana must be guarded night and day. She could be in danger of her life. The risk has increased enormously. Tell Nield. Arrange a roster between you – one on, one off. Then you can both get some sleep.'

`Understood.'

Butler had his camera raised, was snapping a large white passenger ship just approaching the narrows from Sweden. Tweed was turning to go back to the Sudwind when a uniformed policeman ran across the road and spoke. Tweed thought he recognized the man from Lubeck-Sud.

`Mr Tweed?'

`Yes.'

`Chief Inspector Kuhlmann is on the phone. Wants to speak to you urgently. Can you come back with me to the station?'

Inside the small police station facing the waterfront, Tweed was given a tiny room on his own. He picked up the receiver lying on its side and stood, looking out of the window.

`Tweed speaking. How did you know I was here?'

`I had you followed. Chap on a motor-cycle. That's immaterial. Kurt Franck didn't murder those blonde girls.'

`I did wonder. How do you know that?'

`Pathologist's report after examining the knife. It's very similar to the weapon used, but it's not the weapon. They've checked it under the microscope. There's a minute nick in the blade – so small you'd never notice it with the naked eye. However carefully that knife had been cleaned traces of dried blood, human skin, flesh, etc. would have remained inside the nick. No traces. And the curve of the blade isn't quite the right angle.'

`So my theory becomes valid again…'

`The theory you won't tell me about?' Kuhlmann snapped.

`Because I'm not sure I'm right. It's become complicated again, grimly so. And I suppose if I asked you to search one of Dr Berlin's cruisers, the Sudwind – rip it apart – you'd jump back a kilometre?'

`Ten kilometres. If I hadn't had friends in Bonn that raid would have finished me. And my job is to find that mass- murderer. Top priority.'

`You think you'll succeed?'

`They never did identify your Jack the Ripper.'

Ten days passed. Newman had the impression Tweed was in a passive phase, an opinion shared by Butler and Nield when the two men discussed their chief.

`He's waiting for something to happen, a development,' said Butler, who knew Tweed well. 'When it does, watch his smoke.'

At Tweed's suggestion, Diana spent a lot of time in her room at the Jensen, perfecting her shorthand and typing on a machine she'd hired locally. She never went anywhere near Travemunde.

Butler and Nield took it in turns to guard her. When she took a short walk in the town one of them was always close to her. Tweed had persuaded Kuhlmann to issue each man with a Walther automatic and a temporary licence to possess a firearm.

And Tweed's so-called passive phase was packed with activity. He phoned London and arranged for a Sea King helicopter to be flown to Lubeck. He also took a great interest in the local private airfield at Blankensee, a nowhere place out in the country sixteen kilometres east of Lubeck.

Butler, who held a licence to pilot a helicopter, drove Tweed to the airfield. Close to it they saw a sign pointing down a side road to the right. Lubeck-Blankensee. Turning down it they drove along the Blankensee-strasse, a long straight road bordered by trees and fields beyond.

The airfield was on their left, larger than Tweed had expected, stretching away towards the east. It was a lonely spot. The departure building was a single-storey modern edifice which carried a large sign above the entrance. FLUGHAFEN LUBECK.

`No one-about,' Newman commented as they walked inside. The entrance hall had a strange floor – paved with small pebbles. To their right was an empty restaurant which appeared closed. Tweed made for a noticeboard, glanced at it.

'Polizei – Raum 4,' he read out.

Inside Room 4 a policeman sat in shirt-sleeves drinking coffee with two men in flying gear. Tweed introduced himself and the policeman checked his identity and then said he'd leave them alone.

`You'll know these two gentlemen,' Tweed said to Newman. `They flew us last year from the Swedish island of Ornei into Arlanda Airport. Bill Casey, pilot, and Tom Wilson, his co-pilot and navigator, plus radio op.'

Casey, a good-humoured man of thirty-one with sandy hair shook hands with Newman. 'With Tweed involved,' he said, `my bet is this is a hairy one, too.' Wilson, dark-haired, about the same age, was more reserved, simply nodding as he briefly shook hands.

`Now,' Tweed said briskly, 'let's get down to it. You managed to borrow a Sea King?'

`She's out there now,' Casey confirmed. 'Getting her was a job. The papers I had to sign, but she's all yours. And the controller here has loaned me this chart.'

He spread it out over the table. Newman was surprised by the area it covered. The whole of the Baltic, continuing north to the Skagerrak – the vast body of water which entered the North Sea and the Atlantic – and Oslo.

`Exactly what we want.' Tweed was becoming very animated, Newman observed. Action was coming. Tweed produced several Polaroid prints, laid them alongside the chart. 'These were taken by a colleague in Travemunde a few days ago – pretending to be a tourist, snapping shots at random. This power cruiser is the Sudwind. Think you could recognize it from the air if it heads out into the Baltic?'

`If I can keep these prints, yes. Wilson will soon pick it up with a pair of high-powered glasses. From a distance.'

`Good. I wouldn't want the helmsman to know you were interested in him. There are two more very similar cruisers I want you to look out for. The Nordsee – and the Nocturne.'

`Half a mo' while I note those names down.' Casey scribbled in his notebook. 'How far do we follow them, bearing in mind we can only tail one if they take different courses?'

`Only one will head for the west, turning north through the Oresund between Denmark and Sweden, then on into the Kattegat and the Skagerrak. I need to know its ultimate destination when that happens.'

`It will happen?' Casey queried.

`I'm betting my whole career on it. Of course there'll be other cruisers poodling about along the coast. It's the one of the three mentioned which goes long distance I want tracked. Radio regular reports back to Lubeck-Sud police HQ. And on this bit of paper is the call sign, the waveband, etc. You address each signal to Kuhlmann – it's written down there. I understand you know German, Casey?'

`My second language..

`Transmit in German. That's important – in case of interception from the other side. You sign off as Walter Three.'

`We brought over night-sight equipment as requested. How do we go about covering night and day?'

`Take it in turns to fly the chopper.'

`I told you it would be hairy,' Casey said to Wilson. He looked at Tweed. 'You've marked where the Sudwind and the Nordsee are moored with crosses. What about the Nocturne?'

`She's disappeared. I think she may come back.'

`You do realize we're going to be pretty conspicuous?' Casey pointed out.

`I want you to be. More pressure on the target I'm after. The Sea King does have Danish markings?'

`Again, as requested.'

`So people – including those across the border – are going to think it's some kind of NATO exercise. The locals will soon get used to your patrols, hardly notice you. But for God's sake, don't stray over the border.'

`That thought had occurred to me,' Casey replied. 'And I think we'll get moving now…'

`Pressure?' Newman queried as they drove away from the airfield. 'On Dr Berlin?'

'As much as I can bring to bear. Head for Travemunde – I'm going to haunt that place, mingle with the boat people. The news will reach Priwall Island soon enough.'

`And I'm sticking with you. Butler and Nield have their hands full watching over Diana. You're after that five hundred-kilo consignment of heroin, aren't you? I thought so. But what makes you think it isn't already on its way to Britain now?'