Colin Forbes - The Stockholm syndicate

Deep inside the bowels of the ferry Peter Lindahl was now sitting behind the wheel of his Volvo impatient to disembark. Lindahl, despite his relief at getting clear of Sweden, studied the other drivers carefully. No-one seemed to be taking any undue interest in him.

At the car ferry terminal Beaurain was watching a sleek white motor-cruiser drifting well south of the harbour. It was the drift which had first attracted his attention; you didn't normally just let a vessel like that float about. He handed the field glasses to Louise.

Take a look at that white boat. There are two men on the bridge. Look at them, too."

She adjusted the f ocus slightly and stared hard. Then she moved the glasses a fraction and Beaurain heard her intake of breath.

"What is it?"

"The second man — the one with the cap — looks like the man I saw climb into the van carrying the suitcase from the house on Nyhavn. He looks like Dr. Benny Horn," On the bridge of the motor-cruiser Horn was staring fixedly at the progress of the ferry carrying Peter Lindahl to Denmark. He was gauging its distance from the Danish shore.

" Now! "

The bearded captain holding the radio-control device pressed one button and at the same second opened up the throttle. Pocketing the device, he opened up the throttle more. The prow of the cruiser lifted like the snout of a shark and the vessel leapt across the waves. "You bloody fool, you'll draw attention to us," cursed Horn, but his words were blotted out by the roar of explosions.

As the bearded captain pressed the button the radio impulse it released travelled in a fraction of a second to t he receivers built into each of the six limpet mines attached to the hull of Delfin II. Along with the multitude of other victims, Peter Lindahl heard nothing. Sitting on top of one of the mines, it had been instant oblivion.

"Oh, God, Jules!"

Louise grabbed his arm and put a hand over her mouth. The giant ferry had been blown to pieces. A battering shock wave carried the sea in a minor tidal wave into the harbour, sinking countless small moored vessels during its passage before it smashed against the harbour wall.

Louise was frozen with horror. She had the awful impression she could see pieces of cars — wheels and chassis — spinning among the vast cloud of black smoke spreading rapidly into the sky. She looked behind her and saw everyone else frozen like statues. The only movement was the approach of Bodel Marker's car. In the distance sirens were starting to scream, boats were starting to put out to sea.

"What in hell has happened out there?"

Beaurain was facing Marker, watching his expression closely when he replied, his voice hard and clipped and, Louise noticed, very public school.

"The Syndicate has just blown up a car ferry. The number of casualties will be appalling. I doubt whether any man, woman or child aboard has survived. It will probably become known as "The Elsinore Massacre" and it will hit the headlines of every newspaper in the world tomorrow. And all to eliminate one, just one man."

Louise knew that underneath the dipped, neutral manner was concealed a terrible, raging fury. Beau-rain's eyes, always compelling, had an almost hypnotic quality as they watched Marker. The reaction of the Dane took her completely aback.

"And I thought I had bad news. The Syndicate has simply used the necessity for liquidating one of your own people and for that person I express my sincere condolences — to stage another demonstration."

And now a breeze was wafting in from the sea — and the scene of the "Massacre' — the faint whiff of petrol and something extremely unpleasant. Instinctively the trio walked a short distance away from the waterfront. Marker continued: "A demonstration of the immense power and ruthlessness of the Stockholm Syndicate. A demonstration which will yield them at least as much as the murder of the Chief Commissioner of the Common Market."

"If you're just saying that to ease the situation…"

"No, old friend," Marker interjected firmly. "I am not trying to ease the pain that you feel for what you erroneously believe is your fault. I did not tell you earlier because I was still not sure of you that is how insidious and undermining of trust the actions of the Syndicate make all those who are touched by it. But only this morning I received a phone call."

"From a girl?" Louise asked quietly.

"Yes, my dear, as before, from a girl. Again she warned me that sooner or later they would track down where I was hiding my wife and child, that they were already very close. That last bit was, of course, in the hope of scaring me into communicating with them in some way which would be detected by the Syndicate. She closed by saying a fresh demonstration of her organisation's power was imminent — that I would know what she was talking about when I read about the disaster in the world's press tomorrow."

Beaurain thrust both hands into the pockets of his jacket, one of his characteristic stances when he was undergoing deep emotion. "And I presume other people in high places were also phoned the same message?"

"I know they were. Before Miss Hamilton and yourself arrived at my office I had just completed making a number of discreet calls."

"A white cabin-cruiser," Beaurain began in a blank monotone, 'flying the Danish flag when last seen, moving at speed on a southerly course about a mile off the Danish shore in the direction of Copenhagen. We believe we saw Benny Horn aboard. It took off like a bat out of hell almost at the moment of the explosion."

"So," Marker replied, 'by now he will have been put ashore at any of a dozen landing-stages along the coast where a waiting car will have picked him up — unless he has crossed the Sound to Sweden once out of sight of Elsinore. Still, I will put out an alert. Excuse me a moment."

Marker went over to his car parked nearby, took the microphone from inside and leant against the car while he radioed his report. The driver was staring at the crowds of people who had appeared from nowhere and were growing denser as they gazed seaward where futile rescue activity was going on.

"You think it was definitely Benny Horn?" Louise asked after a silence lasting several minutes.

"I think he was probably the instrument. Whether he was the prime mover is another question," he told her abruptly and turned to Marker who had now returned. "Bodel, when you arrived here you said you thought you had bad news as though you were going to tell us something else before the ferry was blown up,"

"It seemed horrific… before this." Marker waved a resigned hand towards the debris out at sea as Beau-rain watched him closely. "I told you I was going to have a word with the inspector who radioed that patrol-car to go to the ferry terminal by the railway station. I found I was just too late. There had been an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"He received a call purporting to come from his wife. After taking it he left the police station alone by car. They have just dragged the car out of the sea — the inspector was inside it. He was murdered. I know he was murdered because something has also happened to the two Danish railway men you asked me to keep out of circulation for three days. They never reached the police station."

"What happened?" asked Louise. She felt her hair standing on end. Beaurain continued to study his old associate as the Dane went on with his story.

They were in the patrol-car with the policemen. On their way to the station they were flagged down by a man in front of a garage. A woman happened to be watching from about five hundred metres away — fortunately for her. The man who flagged down the car went inside the garage to fetch someone and then there was an almighty explosion. The car just disintegrated — rather like that…" Again the resigned hand made a gesture towards the sea.