Colin Forbes - Double Jeopardy

`You don't really believe that, Erich…'

'I do believe you've just been subjecting me to some kind of personal interrogation and I'm wondering why.'

Martel swore inwardly. He'd had to take the risk Stoller would catch on. Maybe he'd been stupid to try the experiment- facing a fellow-professional. He set out to repair the damage.

'Why so edgy? If we're to work together I like to know about a man. Maybe I can provide you with my career sheet…'

'Sorry!' Stoller raised a hand and smiled his slow, deliberate smile. The German did everything deliberately. He even sipped his coffee as though testing for a suspect ingredient.

`I am edgy,' he went on. 'You would be if you faced a crucial election – just when the Summit Express is crossing your territory with the West's top leaders aboard. My responsibility is the sector from Strasbourg through to Salzburg

`And the German Chancellor?'

`Kurt Langer boards the train at Munich Hauptbahnhof – but I still have the other three to guard through the night from Strasbourg.'

'You sound as though you expect trouble,' Martel suggested. 'I do.' Stoller stood tip behind his desk. 'Shall we collect your friend, Claire Hofer, and drive to Munich?'

`Can I make one phone call to London before I leave?' go and entertain Miss Hofer. No, no! You may prefer to talk in private.' Standing up, Martel reflected, the German was an imposing figure; not the sort of man you would expect to survive behind the Iron Curtain for two years.

'I will be in the canteen where we left her while we talked,'

Stoller informed him. 'Just ask the operator for your number, press the red button and you're on scrambler…'

While he waited for the Park Crescent number Martel studied a wall-map of Bavaria. It showed where caches of Delta arms and uniforms had been found. Flags indicated the discovery dates.

He found it strange that the rate of success was accelerating. No wonder the polls were showing increasing support for Tofler's party as Election Day approached. Each discovery increased the voters' fear of a Delta win. The phone rang and he heard McNeil at the other end of the line. He asked her to supply 'photos of the four principals…'

'Tweed is out of London,' she told him quickly. 'He asked me to give you a message, Keith. Tomorrow, Monday, catch the first available flight to Heathrow where you will be met. You can give me the flight number? Good. And the ETA? Bring a passport picture of Miss Hofer. As soon as the meeting is over you fly back to Bavaria. Time is running out..

`Don't I know it,' Martel replied.

It was a hot Sunday morning in Paris.

Howard had stayed in the city at the urging of Alain Flandres for a further discussion with O'Meara about security precautions aboard the Summit Express. The train was due to leave the Gare de l'Est late Tuesday evening, June 2 – only three days' hence.

Despite Howard's protestations Flandres had insisted he would personally drive his British opposite number to Charles de Gaulle Airport to catch his London flight. Howard had a shock when he stepped out of the lift with his bag into the reception hall of the H6tel de France et Choiseul ready for his departure.

`Tim is flying to London with you,' the Frenchman announced.

'Decided I'd call at the Embassy there and check out certain unfinished business, then fly back here for Der Tag,' O'Meara explained. `It will give us a chance to get better acquainted…'

Howard said nothing as he contemplated the two men, contrasting their styles. They were opposites – the slim, elegantly dressed Alain, every hair in place, his movements nimble and precise, and the large American in his check sports jacket who exuded aggressive self-confidence.

'I have to pay my bill,' Howard said and walked to the counter. His eyes scanned the guests seated in the lounge area. A slim, fair-haired girl, fashionably dressed and with her superb legs crossed, sat reading a copy of Vogue. A blue Vuiton suitcase stood by her chair and she glanced up briefly as Howard passed her.

It took only a few moments to settle the bill, he lifted his case, went back to the entrance and Flandres led the way to where a blue Citroen was parked. He opened the rear door and Howard was forced to join O'Meara in the back. As the car left the kerb the fair-haired girl with the Vuiton case emerged and climbed inside a waiting cab.

During the journey the Englishman encouraged O'Meara to talk and maintained an almost uninterrupted silence. Without appearing to do so he was watching Alain behind the wheel who frequently glanced in his rear-view mirror. Howard gained the impression they were being followed.

He was on the verge of asking the Frenchman if he had spotted a tail when something made him keep quiet. At de Gaulle Alain accompanied them to the barrier and bade them an effusive farewell. .. until we meet again here in Paris aboard the Summit Express,' he murmured. -

He watched as the two men stood on the escalator carrying them up inside a transparent tube elevated at a steep angle. A fair-haired girl passed him carrying a Vuiton case followed by a small, stocky man wearing a trilby. The tails were in position. Renee Duval would report on all Howard's movements and contacts. Georges Lepas would perform the same operation on O'Meara. Alain Flandres was a professional, his favourite maxim trust no one – particularly those close to you.

Because something was wrong…

Munich Hauptbahnhof. The location Charles Warner had haunted on his visits to the Bavarian state capital. Martel and Claire had asked Stoller to drop them at the Four Seasons Hotel in the centre of the city. As soon as the German had departed Martel picked up both bags and shook his head at the hotel porter.

`We're not staying here…'

They walked a short distance before Martel hailed a cab and gave an address close to the Hauptbahnhof. After he had paid the fare they separated, each carrying their own bag. When they entered the vast station there was nothing to indicate they knew each other. Claire followed Martel at a distance, thankful for the pistol concealed in her handbag.

Both got rid of their cases in self-locking storage compartments and Martel began his search. Why had Warner found this place. – and its alter ego in Zurich – important enough to record in his notebook? Knowing it would help identify him to any watcher, he strolled into the Sunday turmoil with his cigarette-holder at a jaunty angle. Behind him Claire checked for shadows. They were now in the middle of the spider's web.

Erwin Vinz felt desperate – which he knew was bad because a mood could cause him to make a mistake. After two fiascos in Lindau – Gross's unsuccessful attempt to kill Martel in the fog followed by the elimination of the windsurfer execution squad – Reinhard Dietrich had flown into a fury in his Munich penthouse apartment.

`You had Martel! You had him in the palm of your hand in_ Lindau. What happens? Gross is killed by Martel while you stand by! Are you degenerating into some kind of amateur? If so, there is always a remedy…'

`I do have a plan…' Vinz began.

'Wonderful! Just as you had a plan at Lindau! I hope you also realise I hold you partly responsible for my nephew, Werner's demise?' He paused, choking on his emotion. The news had come over the phone from Erich Stoller of all people, the Intelligence creep Dietrich loathed. Vinz made a great effort.

'I am sure that Martel will surface in Munich. He is likely to come in by train. He uses trains a lot. He travelled to St. Gallen from Zurich by train. He left St. Gallen aboard the Munich express last Thursday…'

'And you lost him,' Dietrich broke in sarcastically.

'I have crammed Munich Hauptbahnhof with our soldiers,' Vinz persisted. 'They have his description. The station is so overcrowded an accident can occur and no one will notice. A man falls off a platform under a train…'