The Power (68 page)

Paula, who was watching Tweed closely, saw a very
strange expression cross his face. If she hadn't known
him so well she'd have sworn it was bewilderment, but
Tweed was never bewildered.

'All right,' Tweed continued, 'you want proof of my
identity. You had an identical twin brother, Julius. He
was murdered in a wholesale massacre at Tresillian
Manor in Cornwall. Just before he left Switzerland on that fatal trip he was separated from his wife, Eve, who
is English. I visited her at her villa on the heights above the Limmat in Zurich. I met you, Walter, a few days ago
before you left Zurich for Basle. Bob Newman was with
me. Look, surely that's enough, for God's sake!' he
ended with deliberate exasperation.

'I am sorry, Tweed. I do hope you realize I have to
take precautions. Actually, you have said more than
enough for me to recognize your distinctive voice. When
the buzzer sounds the gates will open
...'

'One more point,' Tweed interjected. 'I have Newman
and Paula Grey with me. I also have three guards -
members of my organization. I want them to enter the
courtyard I can see through the gates as protection.'

'I agree. Listen for the buzzer.'

Paula had again been watching Tweed closely. He had bent his ear close to the metal grille while Amberg spoke
and when he straightened up he was frowning. He looked at Paula and his expression became blank.
Raising his hand he gestured for them all to move into
the stone-flagged courtyard as the automatically
operated gates swung inwards. Paula joined him as they
walked swiftly towards the large stone porch which
appeared to be the main entrance.

'Has something disturbed you?' she asked.

He pointed towards the right-hand comer of the huge
stone façade which reared above them. Parked almost
out of sight was a white BMW.

'Looks very much like Gaunt's,' Paula commented.

'I think we'll find it is Gaunt's
...'

Amberg himself, again neatly dressed in a black business
suit, opened the heavy door to let Tweed, Paula and Newman inside. Paula blinked at the vastness of the
entrance hall, at the poor illumination provided by the sconces on the walls. Amberg stroked a hand across his well-brushed hair after closing and locking the door.

'Will you please excuse me for a few minutes? I can
hear the phone going and I'm expecting an important
call. Eve has come for a business discussion. Gaunt, who
brought her, will take you to her. A little pleasant com
pany in my absence ...'

Gaunt, who greeted them as though their arrival was
the most natural event, led them through a series of
stone passages and up and down flights of ancient stone
steps. As he led the way he called back to them as
though he owned the place.

'Remarkable place, this château. Of course the Yan
kee who had it built on the basis of old plans was mad as
a hatter. But he was Yankee to the core. Show you some
of the bathrooms later. Now, ladies and gentlemen, we
are about to enter the largest bathroom of all,' he
boomed.

His voice echoed back along the labyrinth of passages
they had walked through. Paula was dying to tell him to
cut down on the decibels. Gaunt had paused before a
pair of large double doors shaped like a Norman arch.
With a grandiloquent gesture, he opened both of them,
gestured for them to enter. Tweed nodded to Paula to go
ahead in front of him. She did so and stopped abruptly,
suppressing a gasp of astonishment.

She was gazing at a vast swimming pool, entirely construct
ed of marble. Enclosed under an arched roof, the marble
covered all the surrounding surfaces. A figure was swim
ming in the pool, racing up and down the full length with
powerful breast-strokes.

Eve Amberg had tucked her titian hair inside a black cap
and was clad in a one-piece black bathing costume. She
waved to Paula as she reached one end, paused at the foot
of a ladder, called out to her.

'Welcome to Valhalla! Be with you in a minute. I have to
complete thirty lengths. Make yourselves comfortable in
those chairs . ..'

Then she was off again. As Tweed and Newman walked
over to comfortable chairs round a table, Paula watched
Eve. The Englishwoman was an incredibly strong swim
mer. Her long limbs glided through the greenish water,
her slim arms moved like pistons. Thirty lengths! I couldn't do that, Paula thought, and I'm a few years
younger than she is. As she wandered towards the table
Eve reached the ladder, paused, shinned up it, stood on
the edge of the pool, reached for a large towel. Drying
her shoulders, she stripped off her cap and her mane
cascaded down her back.

'You look stunning,' Paula commented as she sat down
at the table.

'Thank you, Paula. After that, I do feel good.'

Eve had a flair for clothes, Paula mused. With her titian
hair the black one-piece costume was a perfect choice.
Gaunt, who had stood by the side of the pool, watching her
with his arms folded, joined the others at the table. There
was a whole array of glasses, bottles and one decanter.

'I'm mine host,' Gaunt announced. 'Amberg was
involved with yet another phone call when we arrived, showed us the way to this palace of pleasures. Talking of pleasure, who's for a double Scotch to get things going?'

'I'll have a glass of Riesling,' Eve called out. Tweed,
maybe you'd pour me a glass - providing you
pour one for
yourself. It's good Riesling.'

'Certainly,' Tweed replied. 'You brought a swimming costume with you?' he suggested conversationally as he
poured two glasses.

'I did. This pool is heated. I used to swim here when
poor Julius brought me here from time to time. Hate the rest of the place. Like a blasted mausoleum. But the pool
is terrific.'

She had towelled herself all over, brought another dry towel to sit on. She stood very erect while she answered Tweed's question.

'I'll go change into something decent in a few minutes, but if you don't mind me like this I'm gasping for some
wine.'

'I don't mind you like that at all,' Newman told her and
smiled.'Feel free to join us.'

'I suppose you're both here on a social visit,' Tweed
suggested after raising his glass to Eve.

'You know jolly well I'm not,' she rebuked him, following it up with a winning smile. 'Business is
business.'

'And you, Gaunt?' Tweed enquired, turning in his seat
to the large figure occupying the seat next to him.

'I'm here to find out who used my manor as a blood
bath ...' Gaunt had lowered his tone so only Tweed
could hear. 'I'm not leaving until Amberg has put on his
picture show, with talkies.'

'He's admitted he has those items here?' Tweed querie
d in a whisper.

Newman, sensing the two men wanted to talk in
secrecy, was joking in a loud voice, causing Paula and Eve
to become near-hysterical.

'Not exactly,' Gaunt confessed in the same grim tone.
'He can be very evasive, very Swiss in the least compli
mentary sense.'

'Then I'll have to talk to him. By myself. Now would be
a good moment if I knew where to find him.'

'Show you the way.' Gaunt stood up, bent down as he
added the remark, 'Suspect you and I are on the same
side in this one.'

I wonder, Tweed thought, but he smiled agreement as
he stood up. Gaunt explained to the others that they had
a bit of business to discuss with Amberg, hoped they'd excuse their absence.

'Take all day as far as I'm concerned,' Newman assured
him breezily. 'I'm more than happy chatting with two interesting women
. .'

Gaunt left Tweed in the strange quarters Amberg used as
his office, the vast room with the raised dais and behind it
the huge picture window with a panoramic view down
over the Vosges, across the flat plain to the distant hump
which was the Black Forest in Germany.

Still standing, Tweed studied the small, portly Swiss with his black hair slicked back over his high forehead -
no parting - and the thick brows above the shrewd blue
eyes. Did he always wear this depressing black suit?
Tweed asked himself.

'Please sit down,' Amberg invited, indicating the low chair placed beneath the dais.

'Thank you. I'm sure you won't mind if I join you,'
Tweed said at his most amiable.

Picking up the chair, he stepped up on to the dais,
walked round the large desk, planted the chair next to
Amberg's and sat down, facing him.

'What is the problem?' Amberg asked in a peevish
tone. 'I haven't a lot of time.'

'You have all the time in the world,' Tweed assured
him, 'but first I want to view the film, listen to the tape -
the two items Joel Dyson left with you for safekeeping.'

'I don't understand what you're talking about,' snapped
the Swiss, and he pursed his thin lips.

'I'm talking about murder on a grand scale. Mass mur
der at Tresillian Manor in Cornwall.' Tweed's manner
was no longer amiable. 'I'm talking about the murders of Helen Frey, her friend Klara and the private investigator,
Theo Strebel. All of which took place on your home patch
- in Zurich.' He paused. Amberg stared back at him with
a blank expression, but Tweed thought he
detected a hint of alarm in those blank eyes. 'Theo Strebel was an ex-member of the Zurich Homicide force, a close friend of Arthur Beck who, as you know, is Chief of the Swiss
Federal Police at the Taubenhalde in Berne. Beck also
happens to be a close friend of mine. So produce the film and the tape or Beck will be waiting for you the moment you return to Zurich. Which is it to be?'

Unusually, Tweed had fired all his guns in one massive verbal barrage. The effect was electrifying.

'It is a question of ethics,' Amberg began in a feeble
tone. 'Joel Dyson gave us those items to keep for him.'

'Forget the ethics. Didn't you know? Dyson may be
dead. He hasn't been seen alive since he visited your bank
in Talstrasse. Another fact which will interest Beck.'

'I do have a small cinema at a lower level,' Amberg
said.

'And the film and the tape?'

'They are in a safe here. I'll get them now. Also we
have a recorder to play the tape on.'