Colin Forbes - Double Jeopardy

There's no glamour like a lot of money, he thought.

Two or three minutes after Claire had vacated her table he left the room. Wandering along a wide corridor he found her standing at the reception desk, waiting her turn while a fresh arrival – (an attractive brunette in her late twenties with a full-bodied figure) was completing the registration form.

The reception hall opened out into a well-furnished and spacious lounge area with comfortable armchairs. Martel chose one of these chairs, settled himself and picked up a magazine. He inserted a cigarette into his holder, lit it and waited.

The attractive new guest had gone up in the lift to her room with the porter. Claire was asking the receptionist about train times to Kempten – the first thing which came into her head. The receptionist was being very helpful, checking a rail timetable and noting times on a slip of paper.

'Thank you.' She turned away and then turned back. 'I thought I recognised the girl who just arrived. She stays here often?'

'Her first visit as far as I know, Madame…'

Claire had her handbag open, slipping the piece of paper inside as she wandered into the lounge area. As she passed Martel's armchair she deliberately tipped her bag and the contents spilt over the floor. Her 9-mm pistol remained safely inside the special zipped-up compartment.

'Let me help you,' Martel said, gathering up objects. 'I'm so sorry…'

Their heads were close together. The receptionist was a distance from where Martel sat. They carried on their brief conversation in whispers.

'That girl who just arrived,' Claire told him. saw the name on the registration form. Kiara Beck – from Stuttgart…'

'The hyenas are gathering. And the man in the dining-room who arrived as though he owned the damned world – Reinhard Dietrich?'

'Yes – I've seen pictures in the paper…'

The spilt contents had been collected up. Claire, who had been crouching with her knees bent, her back to the receptionist, stood up and raised her voice.

'That really was most kind of you – and most clumsy of me

Claire wandered to the far side of the room and chose a chair where she could see everything and had her back to the wall. She opened her handbag, unzipped the compartment, slid out the pistol and left it inside the bag where she could reach it swiftly. She had just completed this precaution when Erwin Vinz and his associate, Rolf Gross, walked into the reception hall, each carrying a small case.

Claire froze – then slid the gun out of her handbag and covered it on her lap with a newspaper. Rolf Gross had been the driver of the Delta car they had encountered in Gallus-strasse in Bregenz.

Both men glanced into the lounge area as they crossed to the steps leading to the reception counter. Claire thought Gross stared at Martel who was reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette in his holder. Vinz appeared to notice nothing and neither man showed any interest in the girl at the back of the room.

Slipping the gun inside her handbag, she closed it, stood up and wandered over to the reception desk where both men were filling in their registration forms. She waited patiently, looking at a picture on the wall.

`We require two single rooms with baths,' Vinz said in the tone of voice used for addressing serfs. 'If you haven't singles, two doubles will do. And we want dinner…'

'I have two single rooms…' The receptionist was not looking at Vinz although his tone of voice remained polite. 'And I would suggest you hurry to the dining-room which stops serving…'

`Inform them of our arrival! We both require steaks, plenty of potatoes. The steaks rare – and a very good bottle of red wine. We'll be down as soon as we are ready…'

`Understood, sir. The porter here will show you your rooms.'

With obvious relief he turned to Claire with a smile. She asked for a street plan of Lindau and he explained that a section of the Old Town was a 'walking-only' zone. At that moment Reinhard Dietrich, smoking a large cigar, came down the corridor from the dining-room. Continuing past the reception desk he marched into the lounge and eased his bulk into the armchair next to Martel.

`Reinhard Dietrich at your service. You are English?'

Martel looked at the leathery hand extended in greeting, made a movement as though about to clasp the hand – and ignored it, inserting a fresh cigarette in his holder.

Dietrich overlooked the insult. His extended hand grasped the glass of cognac a waiter had just placed on the table, making it appear that had been his original intention. He raised the glass.

`Yes,' said Martel.

`I beg your pardon?'

'Yes, I am English.'

`Oh, of course! Taking a holiday in our beautiful Bavaria?'

Martel turned and looked straight at the industrialist, switching to German, which momentarily threw him off balance.

`You are a Nazi. They need wiping off the face of the earth.'

`Unless we inherit the earth,' Dietrich replied harshly. 'In the coming state election someone has to make sure Tofler does not win. How would you enjoy a Communist controlling the largest state in Germany – geographically speaking? The West's main bulwark against the Soviets would be shattered…'

`I could never see the difference. Both are inhuman dictatorships. Both rule through secret police – KGB or Gestapo. They are interchangeable – as are the systems. I prefer Chancellor Langer's party. And now, if you will excuse me…'

'Take a cigar with you-they are Havanas

`From Cuba?' Martel was standing, his expression ironical as he stared down at the German. 'Thank you – but I smoke only cigarettes. It has been most illuminating meeting you. Goodnight.'

It has been most illuminating meeting you… The words disturbed Dietrich because he sensed a hidden meaning. He watched the Englishman stroll to the lift, his eyes narrowed as he recalled the conversation word for word, trying to decide whether he had made a slip.

A girl who had been talking to the receptionist had reached the lift first and was entering it when Martel called out, asking her in German, please could she hold it? The lift ascended out of sight with both passengers aboard.

The third floor landing was deserted as Martel escorted Claire out of the lift. Unlocking the door of his own room, he ushered her inside, closed the door and gripped her arm. She remained quite still in the darkness while Martel checked the bathroom. He then closed all the curtains and turned on the bedside lights which gave out a shaded glow. She began reporting at once.

'I worked the same trick when those two werewolves arrived. I saw their registration forms and the one who seems to be boss is Erwin Vinz. His sidekick-the driver of the car in Bregenz know…'

'He goes under the name Rolf Gross. Both registered as coming from Munich…'

'Which is probably a lie. They're trained killers. Things are developing as I hoped – but faster than I expected. The enemy is here in force. My guess is Dietrich is here to see they don't botch the job of eliminating me as they did in Zurich, St. Gallen and Bregenz. Vinz and Gross do the job. Klara Beck provides back-up…'

'She's a reptile,' Claire commented savagely. 'You should watch out for her – the others may be diversions. And why did you set out to provoke Dietrich? I heard every word both of you said – it was like a duel…'

'It was a duel. He was weighing me up- I was doing the same with him. I thought he was a stiff-necked has-been, but he's no fool. He believes in what he's doing. He's ruthless and he's decisive. We have to be very careful…'

'He might take action tonight?'

'No – because he's staying at the hotel. He won't risk being present when his dirty tricks squad goes into action. We'll still take precautions. You stay here for the night and we'll take turns – one sleeping, one in a chair with a gun handy.'