The Power (27 page)

'May I sit here, if you don't mind?' he had enquired courteously. 'There is more leg room and I have business papers I must study before we arrive.'

The seat is vacant,' she replied after glancing briefly at
him.

The plane took off and Norton extracted a folder of
papers with statistics about computers. He didn't under
stand any of it but if Mencken peered into First Class it would seem they were a couple travelling together.

Holding his briefcase, he moved quickly when the plane
landed at Kloten. By the time Marvin Mencken arrived at
the carousel a uniformed porter was waiting for him. He handed him a large envelope.

'I was asked to give this to you, sir. Your baggage will
arrive very shortly.'

Remembering his experience at London Airport Men
cken made no attempt to question the porter who was
walking away. He glanced round at the passengers - not a
chance of identifying Norton, assuming he was near the
carousel, which he doubted. Mencken opened the
envelope. Another sheet with no address and detailed
instructions.

Distribute your men among the following four hotels - two
groups should occupy the first hotel listed. Golden Bay
Tours have booked accommodation. I will call you at your
hotel telling you where to pick up special equipment. Hotels
- Baur-en-Ville, Eden au Lac, Dolder Grand, BaurauLac.

The sheet was again signed in ink with the flourishing 'N'. Mencken swore to himself at the familiar abrupt commanding tone of the instruction. He began strolling
among the passengers, giving each section leader the name
of his hotel. As he did so the luggage started moving along
the carousel.

'Special equipment' - Mencken knew that referred to
guns and explosives.

Newman had decided to accompany Tweed and Paula to
meet Walter Amberg at the bank headquarters in Tal
strasse, which ran parallel to Bahnhofstrasse. Paula was intrigued and a little nervous. She couldn't get out of her
head 'snapshot' pictures of Julius Amberg before the
attack - and how he had looked with his face destroyed by acid. Now she was going to meet the identical twin . . .

Prepared as she was, it came as a shock when a Swiss personal assistant showed them into a large office and a man came forward, hand extended, to greet them.

'Welcome back to Zurich, Tweed. Always good to see
you.'

Small and portly, in his fifties, he also wore his black hair
without a parting, slicked back from his high forehead. Under thick brows his blue eyes were shrewd, his face
clean-shaven and plump. Inwardly, Paula gasped. She was
staring at a mirror image of the banker she had met at
Tresillian Manor. He even wore the same dark suit with a red silk display handkerchief protruding from his breast
pocket.

Tweed introduced Paula, who gathered that Newman had met the banker before. Amberg escorted them to
comfortable chairs round a long polished antique board
room table.

'I'm sure you would all like coffee,' he suggested and gave the order over an intercom. 'I understand
you have met Julius down in Cornwall,' he went on, addressing
Tweed as he sat down with Paula on his right and Tweed
and Newman facing him. 'I haven't heard from him - not
unusual since Julius often told me little about his affairs. I
trust all went well.'

Tweed took a deep breath. He had not looked forward
to this moment.

'I'm afraid I have bad news for you about Julius.'

'He's ill?' Amberg looked surprised. 'He's hardly ever
ill. Always says he hasn't the time.'

The news is worse than that, much worse,' Tweed
warned.

'You can't mean he's ... dead?'

'I mean just that
...'

Tweed began to give a terse account of the events which
had taken place in Cornwall. Amberg listened, his face
blank of emotion, but Paula noticed his lips had tightened
as the gruesome tale unfolded. The Swiss listened with his
hands steepled, fingertips of each hand touching - a
mannerism she had noticed at the dining table in Tresillian
Manor.

'It's a grim tragedy,' Tweed concluded, 'and we have no
idea who made the fatal attack - or why. I was hoping you
might have some inkling.'

'As I told you, Julius handled his own affairs. Which
makes it difficult for me to help. I don't - didn't - even
know why he was going to Cornwall to meet you.'

'Have you ever heard of a man called Joel Dyson?'
Tweed enquired.

'Yes. Not an individual I took to - I'm sorry, is he a
friend of yours?'

'He most certainly isn't. Do go on.'

This Dyson arrived recently with a suitcase and asked to
see Julius. He was quite aggressive and I was surprised when my brother agreed to see him.' Amberg looked at
Newman. 'I understand you once did Julius a great favour which involved this individual.'

'It was nothing,' Newman said, dismissing the incident.

'Dyson seemed frightened on his second visit here,' the banker continued. 'After seeing my brother he asked to be
let out by the rear door. Later Julius told me Dyson had
handed him a film and a tape recording for safe keeping. I
haven't seen Dyson since.'

'Where were the film and the tape stored?' Tweed asked
casually.

'In the vault, of course. Then Julius had them transfer
red to the vault in our Basle branch. I've no idea why.' He
clapped a hand to his forehead. 'Oh, God, I had forgotten
about Eve. Since this is the first I've heard of this dreadful
news she may not know. Eve is his estranged English wife.'

'Estranged?' Tweed enquired delicately.

'Yes. Julius had his final quarrel with Eve just before he
flew to London on his way to Cornwall. They had not been
getting on well for some time. Foreign wives . . .' He tilted
his head towards Paula. 'Please do excuse my phraseology.
Foreign wives,' he continued, 'are often a disaster when
they marry Swiss men. Julius told me just before he left for
London they had agreed on a separation, that he never wanted to see her again. But someone must tell her . . .'

Amberg trailed off, looked all at sea. The shock of what
happened is beginning to sink in, Paula thought. It was
Tweed who intervened.

'If you would like to give me her address, Walter, I will
go and see her myself. I was at Tresillian Manor shortly
after the tragedy occurred.'

'As her brother-in-law I suppose I should, but
...

'Give me her address, if she's still in Switzerland,'
Tweed urged.

'She's here in Zurich.' Amberg extracted a white card
from a box, wrote down the address and phone number,
handed it to Tweed. 'She lives in the villa Julius has - had -
in the Dolder area. He was moving into an apartment when
he came back. I'm very grateful to you.'

'One more thing.' Tweed had stood up after draining the
excellent coffee his assistant had brought in
earlier. 'I
expect you know whether Julius had viewed the film, listened to the tape Joel Dyson delivered before having them sent to Basle?'

'No idea. Why was Dyson so frightened when he
brought them to us?' Amberg asked.

'Oh, that's simple. There are assassins here looking for
him - to kill him. At least ten people have so far been
murdered over this business. Maybe you should have a
guard, Walter.'

'This
is
Switzerland,' the banker said indignantly.

* * *

'Something's very wrong about the sequence of events,' Tweed said as they left the building and headed for Bahnhofstrasse.

Butler and Nield appeared out of nowhere as they
walked along. Newman was walking on the inside nearest
the shops with Paula between him and Tweed on the
outside. Butler strolled slowly past Tweed, staring ahead
as he spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

'You've been followed. Chap in ski gear. Peaked cap
with tinted visor ...'

He continued on ahead of them while Nield remained
behind the trio. Paula stopped for a moment, apparently to
glance into a shop window. In the reflection from the
brilliant sun she saw the man in a ski outfit walking ahead
of Nield. She resumed her conversation as they
approached Bahnhofstrasse.

'What is wrong about the sequence of events Walter
described to us?'

'Dyson arrives with film and tape. Who could resist the
temptation to watch, to listen? This coincides with Julius
leaving his wife, Eve. It further coincides with his urgent call to me to meet him, followed by his flight to Tresillian
Manor. Plus the fact he transferred film and tape to the
bank vault in Basle. Dyson asked to be let out by the back
exit. The only reason for that is he suspected he'd been followed, which he probably told Amberg. Even if he
didn't, Amberg would guess the reason.'

'Why do you think Julius left his wife so suddenly?'

'I can only guess. But I know he had a mistress in Geneva. Normal lifestyle for
some
Swiss bankers. Live in one city, have your mistress in another, visit her at the weekend on a fictitious business trip. Maybe Eve found out - being English she might not have appreciated old Swiss bankers' customs. That's why I want to see her. I'm hungry. Let's have a coffee and cake at Sprüngli before we start checking ...'

* * *

The tea room at the famous Spr
ü
ngli was on the first
floor, overlooking Bahnhofstrasse. It gave Paula an eerie feeling when she recalled the package the 'postman' at Tresillian Manor had delivered before murdering eight people - a box of chocolates from
Spr
ü
ngli
.

'Excuse me a moment,' Newman said.

They ordered coffee from the waitress as Newman
peered out of the window down into the boulevard-like
street. He joined them as they went to the counter to
select a cake, waited until they were seated again.

'We still have company. Ski-man with his tinted visor
is leaning against a tree on the far side where he can watch the entrance to this place. No sign of Pete Nield or Butler.'

There wouldn't be, but they'll be out there,' said
Paula as she dug her fork into a cream pastry.
This is super.' She glanced round the long room where wooden-topped tables were carefully
arranged, at the hygienic
counter they had visited for their cakes. 'I think this is
where the Zurich
grandes dames
meet each other to nat
ter about the latest gossip. Bet there's plenty of that if
they have bankers for husbands.'