Terminal (40 page)

`Every concern, my friend. You are a material witness in my investigation into the deaths of Julius Nagy and Bernard Mason...'

Another man had emerged from the helicopter and was walking towards Beck. A man of medium height, well-built, who walked with a deliberate tread. As he passed in front of the headlights of the Citroen Newman saw he was dressed in the uniform of a colonel in the Swiss Army. Under his peaked cap, beneath his thick eyebrows, motionless eyes stared at Newman. Clean-shaven, he had a strong nose, a thin-lipped mouth and he carried himself with an air of confidence verging on arrogance. Newman recognized him before Beck made his introduction.

`This is Colonel Victor Signer, president of the Zürcher Kredit Bank. He called on me just before I was leaving — he expressed a wish to accompany me. This is Robert Newman...'

No handshake. Signer half-smiled, not pleasantly, dipped his head in acknowledgement. The blank eyes, still studying Newman, reminded him of films he had seen of sharks, which was fanciful, he told himself. Of one thing he was sure. God had just arrived.

`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.

Twenty-Nine

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..

`What about that poor sod's body?'

`I have already summoned an ambulance to take him to the morgue in Berne. More work for the unfortunate Dr Kleist. And there are two more bodies at Le Pont station. Which route did you take to arrive here? And where did you pick up Manfred Seidler?'

Newman spoke quickly before Nancy could say anything. 'I drove up from Rolle. Seidler had phoned me earlier this evening to make the arrangement. He was waiting for us outside the Hotel de la Truite. I turned the car round and we drove for the French border. Seidler wanted to get out of Switzerland before he'd talk...'

`You did not go on to the station? Are you certain?'

`I was driving the bloody car. When we'd collected Seidler the job was done. The next objective was the French border. How many times do I have to tell you? And these bodies at the station. Whose bodies?'

`That we do not know. One of my patrol cars — I have them covering the whole Jura — reported finding the corpses over the radio. A message reached me aboard the helicopter. Two men — carrying no means of identification. Both armed with 9-mm. Lugers. One man was clasping his weapon when they discovered them.' He turned to Nancy. 'Tomorrow there is to be a large medical reception held at the Bellevue. Will you be attending that?'

`Yes. Since we have to go back I'll take the opportunity to talk with Professor Grange. There are a few questions I want to ask him...'

`That reception may be an explosive affair,' Beck commented. 'Before I flew here I heard that Dr Max Nagel had just arrived from Basle — Professor Grange's most bitter enemy. There may be more than one confrontation. Something tells me this affair is coming to a head...'

`I'm frozen,' Nancy protested. 'Can we get moving...'

`Of course. My apologies. Let me lead the way. It is a large machine so you should have a comfortable flight...'

`Don't expect much conversation,' Newman rapped back.

The helicopter was a French Alouette. As it lifted off and gained height Newman looked down on the white wasteland below, the graveyard of three men in one night. There were two incidents during the flight to Belp.

Beck opened each suitcase, raising the lids so no one else could see the contents. Newman saw him freeze for a moment when he saw the gas mask. Beck leaned over in his seat and he spoke with his mouth close to Newman's ear.

`Did you have a chance to open these cases?'

Newman shook his head, making no verbal response above the roar of the rotors. A short while later Beck received a message over the radio. He made no reference to it as the chopper flew on to Be1p.

Another black Audi was waiting for them when they landed at Be1p. Beck took the wheel after placing both suitcases in the boot, inviting Nancy to sit in the back while Newman sat alongside him. They drove in silence along the motorway to Berne. Newman was determined to give the police chief no conversational opening. His only comment was to insist that Beck drove them to the Bellevue Palace. No more interviews at the Taubenhalde: Nancy was exhausted with her ordeal and he was pretty tired himself.

`That radio message I received aboard the Alouette,' Beck began as they approached the outskirts of Berne. 'One of the patrols stopped a red Mercedes for checking near Neuchatel, a car driven by a chauffeur with one passenger in the back.'

`That concerns me?'

`It might concern us both. The passenger was Dr Bruno Kobler. He said he was on his way to Geneva from Berne. A curious route to take. He brushed aside any suggestion he had been anywhere in the vicinity of the Juras. One of the patrol car men noticed the car's tyres had faint traces of snow crust embedded in the treads. There is no snow at that level...'