Colin Forbes - Double Jeopardy

He extended a hand. 'It is Alain Flandres, isn't it?'

'A pleasure to see you again, Mr President…'

They shook hands while O'Meara moved restlessly and gestured for the American Secret Service men to form a circle round Flandres and the President. 'Washington, two years ago – am I right?' the President said.

'You have a remarkable memory…'

There was tension as the procession of men made their way along the platform, so many alert to danger which might come from any quarter – and the potential target was the most powerful leader in the western world. Flandres was disturbed and felt he must speak.

`I don't like being hemmed in like this…'

The President, smiling and amenable, stot ped. 'Tim, I think we must allow Alain to command the security operation. This, after all, is his territory.'

'More space, please!' Flandres spoke curtly to O'Meara. 'We must have a clear field of fire in an emergency…'

At the foot of the steps leading up into his coach the President lingered to speak again to the Frenchman. 'I just want you to know that I feel perfectly safe in your capable hands. And now, if you'll excuse me, I like an early night's sleep…'

Three minutes from departure time two unexpected events occurred. A chauffeur-driven limousine drove into the station and an elegant woman alighted and presented her ticket while the chauffeur brought her bags. The ticket collector noted that she had a sleeping compartment reserved. At the same time the Passport controller – brought to check the identity of all ordinary passengers – noted she was Swiss.

`You had better hurry, Madame,' the collector advised. 'The train departs in three minutes.'

Further down the platform at the second barrier Howard watched the elegant woman walking gracefully towards him while her chauffeur carried her luggage. She disappeared inside the sleeping-car and Howard turned to his deputy, Peter Haines, a short, wiry man.

`I wouldn't mind joining that one in her bunk,' he observed and climbed aboard the train.

The ticket collector was closing the barrier when a cab drew up.

A compact figure wearing glasses and a rumpled hat who had paid the fare earlier got out. He ran towards the barrier, carrying a small case.

He had his ticket ready and a plastic card which he presented to the Passport official. The latter glanced in surprise at the card which bore a photograph of its owner and then turned to hold up his hand to the guard indicating that the train must wait.

The late arrival moved rapidly down the platform to the second barrier opposite which Howard was standing in the open doorway to get a last-minute breath of fresh air. As he saw the passenger his face went rigid and he stepped down on to the platform.

'Tweed! I don't know what the hell you are doing here but I'm forbidding you to board this train

'I don't think you have the power.' Tweed showed his card with green and red stripes running across it diagonally. 'And you are holding up the train…'

'Say, what the devil goes on here?'

O'Meara had appeared behind Howard. Now Flandres stepped down from the other end of the coach and ran along the platform to join them. O'Meara peered over Howard's shoulder.

'Jesus Christ! She signed the pass herself!'

'This is outrageous!' Howard exploded. 'I was not informed..

'You were not informed for security reasons,' Tweed replied. 'If you are worried, why not wake up the lady and check? But I doubt whether she will appreciate the interruption…'

'Get aboard, my friend.' Alain Flandres had grasped Tweed's arm and was ushering him up the steps. 'You are most welcome.'

Tweed waited in the corridor as Flandres waved his hand towards the guard, climbed the steps and closed the door.

'Alain, there is one I would like checked as a matter of top priority. At the barrier the passport controller told me the lady who came on board at the last moment is travelling on a Swiss passport, that her name is Irma Romer. Can you use the communications set-up to radio her details to Ferdy Arnold in Berne? Ask him to confirm whether their people have issued Irma Romer with a passport – that she does in fact exist…'

'Why bother about her?' Howard demanded.

'Because her car was parked in a side street for some time before it drove into the station. I arrived earlier myself, you see…'

The train was moving now, the huge wheels of the locomotive revolving faster as the Summit Express emerged from under the canopy of the Gare de l'Est and headed east on its historic journey for its final destination, Vienna. Seven hundred miles away.

Wednesday June 3: 0100-0810 hours

'Has anything unusual happened yet, Haines?' Tweed asked. 'Unusual?' Howard's deputy enquired cautiously. At one o'clock in the morning he had a haggard look.

'Unexpected, then.'

They were sitting at one end of the communications coach where two bunks had been installed for security chiefs off duty. Haines glanced towards the far end of the coach where the three security chiefs were gathered round the teleprinter.

The express was ninety minutes away from Paris, moving at over eighty miles an hour as it thundered through the dark. The coach swayed round a curve. No one felt like sleep.

'I'd sooner you addressed that question to Howard,' said Haines.

'I'm addressing it to you.' Tweed reached towards his pocket as he continued. 'Perhaps you are unaware of my authority?'

'There was something, sir,' Haines began hastily. 'While he was at the Elysee Flandres had a message from Bonn warning us to await an urgent signal aboard the express. Stoller has disappeared…'

'Disappeared?'

'Yes. We don't know where to communicate with him. The secrecy of the whole business is worrying Flandres…' He looked again at the far end of the coach. 'I think something is coming through on the teleprinter.'

It was Howard, beginning to look strangely dishevelled, who came with the telex strip which he waved at Tweed with an expression of satisfaction.

'Signal from Ferdy Arnold in reply to your query. The Swiss can be damned quick. Irma Romer was issued with a passport four years ago. Widow of an industrial magnate – engineering. She's travelling outside the country somewhere in Europe. So can we now forget about your paranoid aberrations?'

'Can I see the telex, please?'

'I've just read the damned thing out to you!' Howard threw the strip into Tweed's lap. 'Admit it,' he snapped, 'it's a wild goose chase.' He turned and stepped on the right foot of O'Meara who had come up behind him. `Do you have to follow me everywhere?' Howard demanded.

'People apologise when they bump into me,' O'Meara rasped.

Tweed watched the two men over his spectacles. Already they were getting on each other's nerves – because under the surface there was a terrible suspicion that one of the security chiefs was the enemy. And with the windows closed tightly for the sake of the communication experts the atmosphere was growing torrid. Something had gone wrong with the air-conditioning.

Flandres, who had witnessed what was happening, came rapidly to their end of the coach. 'Gentlemen, we have the most nerve-wracking assignment any of us has probably faced – let us face it calmly and help each other…'

'What I'd like to know,' O'Meara demanded, 'is who is in charge of British security – Tweed or Howard…'

'I would say Alain is in supreme control for the moment,' Tweed said quickly. 'We are passing across French territory..'

'Still nobody answers my Goddamn question,' O'Meara persisted.

Tweed read through the Berne signal and looked at Howard. 'You left out a bit, didn't you? Arnold ends his message with the words further details to follow as soon as available.' `What further details do we need?' asked Howard wearily. `Her full description,' Tweed replied.