Colin Forbes - Terminal

`I hear you have been causing us some trouble, Newman,' Signer remarked.

He spoke through his nose, like a man with adenoids and he looked at the ground as though addressing a subordinate.

`You are speaking personally?' Newman suggested.

`I didn't come here to fence with you…'

`Why did you come here, Signer?'

The eyes snapped up and there was a brief flicker of fury. He would be a bastard to serve under. Autocratic, callous, sarcastic. The original martinet. Newman understood now why Blanche disliked her stepfather so much. The colonel clasped his hands which, despite the cold, were clad in fine suede gloves. A very tough baby, Victor Signer. Beck intervened, as though afraid things were getting out of control.

`Newman, I have to ask you to return with me to Berne – together with your two companions..

Signer walked slowly round the Citroen and peered in at the rear seat. Seidler shrank back from his gaze, clutching his suitcase.

`Not Dr Kennedy,' Newman said firmly. 'You have no grounds for detaining her…'

`She witnessed the death of Mrs Laird. Until that case is resolved I must insist that she remains on Swiss territory.. `You bastard,' Newman whispered.

`And the man in the rear of the car. He wouldn't by chance be Manfred Seidler?' Beck opened the rear door. `Please step out Mr Seidler-we have been searching everywhere for you.'

`Grab his case,' Newman whispered again. 'Don't open it – and don't let Signer get his hands on it..

Seidler emerged shakily from the car, releasing the suitcase Beck reached for without protest. Signer wandered round the Citroen to join them, flexing his gloved hands. Then he stood waiting. He would be about five feet ten tall, Newman guessed, but the controlled force of his personality made him seem taller. This was a man who dealt in millions at his bank.

`I would like to see the contents of that suitcase,' he remarked.

`No! Colonel,' Beck replied. 'I am investigating three potential homicides, two positive ones. Not an hour ago a couple of men arriving at Le Pont station were murdered. This case may well contain evidence. It goes straight to our forensic people unopened. It is not a matter I care to debate…'

`As you wish…'

Signer half-smiled again and walked across to stand in front of the headlight beams of the Saab parked on the verge. He removed his left glove and clenched his hand. Beck, still holding on to the suitcase, gestured for Seidler to follow him. Newman sensed that something was wrong but couldn't immediately put his finger on it. Signer had given up too easily…'

`Seidler! Get away from those headlights!' he shouted.

Following Beck, Seidler was illuminated by the headlamps of the Citroen – illuminated like a target on a firing range at night. There was a loud report and Seidler leapt forward, vaulted clear off the ground and sprawled over the bonnet of the Audi. A second rifle report shattered the night. The sprawled body coughed, a convulsive movement, then flopped back over the bonnet. In the headlights a patch of dampness – blood – began to spread midway down the centre of Seidler's back. The second shot had fractured his spine. He was dead twice over.

Chaos. Beck shouting, 'Douse those bloody lights…' An order hardly necessary – the drivers inside the Audi and the Saab turned them off while he was shouting the order. No one wanted to be a target for the marksman. Policemen running all over the place. Newman had turned off his own lights.

It was Beck who regained control of the situation, issuing terse commands through his walkie-talkie. Policemen crouched under cover of the vehicles. Nancy was crouched over Seidler's spread-eagled body, checking his pulse. She turned to Beck who gently pressed her down by the car as Newman joined them.

`He's dead,' Nancy told them. 'Half his head was shot away by the first bullet…'

`My commiserations, madame,' said Beck.

'Why?'

`For your most unfortunate experiences in my country. This is the second time this week you have been present to confirm a violent death. If I may offer my services? We can fly you back to Berne in the helicopter. A policeman can drive your Citroen back to the Bellevue Palace.' He looked up. `There is something wrong, Newman?'

`Signer. Look at him. He's the only man who didn't move…'

The colonel was still standing motionless in front of the Saab where he, also, had been silhouetted in the glare of the beams of headlights. He stood with his hands clasped over his lower abdomen. Newman noticed he had now replaced the suede glove on his left hand.

`He is a soldier,' Beck commented, 'a man accustomed to the experience of being under fire. Here he comes…'

Signer walked slowly towards the crouched trio and remained standing as he stared down at them. His tone was remote and calm when he spoke.

`He missed me. You realize I was the target?'

Newman stood up slowly. He shook his head, staring direct at the colonel. Signer made an irritable gesture with one hand. When he spoke his tone suggested he was addressing a corporal he had decided to demote.

`Why are you shaking your head? Of course I was the target. I was standing still. Doubtless one of these crazy terrorists.'

`The killer was a marksman,' Newman replied. 'Maybe if there had been only one bullet the target would have been disputable. There was a second – which also hit Seidler straight on. That means a marksman. How many marksmen do you have under your command, Signer?'

`You are implying… what?'

`Gentlemen!' Beck had also stood up, retaining his hand on Nancy's shoulder to keep her under cover. 'Gentlemen,' he repeated, 'we have another murder on our hands. Many here are still in a state of shock. No arguments, no quarrels. That is final. Colonel, you wish to accompany us back to Berne in the helicopter?'

`Give me a car, a driver. I will go on to Geneva now we are so close. And I understood Military Intelligence wished to interview this man Seidler…'

`They might have some difficulty doing that now,' Beck observed. 'I will deal with the body – and you may have both a car and a driver to take you to Geneva. The Saab, I suggest. If you could leave at once, Colonel, it will help me to go about my duties.'

It was a dismissal and Signer knew it. He didn't like it. He turned on his heel without a word of thanks and climbed inside the rear of the Saab. Within a minute the tail-lights of the Saab were vanishing towards the French frontier.

I thought that was the way to France,' Nancy said to Beck.

`Madame, it is a most curious road. You cross the border into France, drive fifteen to twenty kilometres over French soil to La Cure, and there the road forks. One way north to the French hinterland, the other way down a devilish road to Geneva – after re-crossing the border into Switzerland.' He glanced towards Seidler's crumpled form. 'And now some unknown marksman has eliminated our only surviving witness.'

`There may be someone still left,' Newman replied. `The name, please,' Beck demanded.

I think the person I'm thinking of may be safer if for the moment I keep that information to myself. Incidentally, Beck, I noticed you led Seidler in front of those headlights.'

I have never claimed papal infallibility,' Beck responded stiffly. 'Shall we all board the helicopter and return to Berne…' He reached inside the rear of the Citroen. 'And I think we will take this second suitcase with us…'

`Beck, I'm asking you one more time. Let Dr Kennedy go. She can drive this car into France…'

`Out of the question. It is regrettable, madame, but you are a vital witness…'

`Then you'll get the minimum of cooperation from me,' Newman told him.

`Again regrettably, if necessary I shall have to soldier on by myself. May we now depart? I insist..