By Stealth

42

Sprawled out on the leather seat, Paula was being rocked from side to side as the van moved over rough ground. They had obviously turned off a made-up road a moment ago. She felt sick, had a thumping headache, but the tape over her mouth had come loose and been removed.

As the van slowed down Starmberg stood up from his flap seat. Unfastening the strap pinioning her right hand, he clamped a steel handcuff over her wrist. He released the strap holding her other hand, forced her to sit up, and clamped the twin handcuff over her wrist. Her arms were now held firmly behind her back.

`You'll end up with terrible punishment for this,' she snapped.

`If you don't shut your bloody mouth I'll shut it for you.'

He released the straps binding her ankles one by one and closed a second pair of handcuffs over the ankles. The van had stopped. Outside there was an eerie silence which jangled her already taut nerves.

Starmberg moved behind her and suddenly inserted a tight gag of twisted cloth over her mouth. She sensed the physical strength in the brute and felt completely helpless.

`You've arrived at your new home,' he said sarcastically. 'There's a very nice man waiting to greet you.'

The driver, who had left his cab, opened the doors at the rear but she couldn't see him clearly. It was a pitch black night and bitterly cold. Siberian air flowed into the van.

`Don't struggle or I'll knock your teeth out,' Starmberg informed her.

He hauled Paula over his shoulder like the proverbial sack of potatoes, stooped to clear the roof of the van, walked to the rear and stepped down into the night. Immediately a raw wind blew sand particles into her eyes. She was carted, head down, across scrubland and inside a house.

Her eyes saw only a scruffy wood-block floor passing below her, a floor with several blocks loose and which hadn't seen a smear of polish for ages. Starmberg, one hand holding her roughly round the neck, used the other to open a door. She blinked as bright fluorescent light hit her.

Starmberg descended a flight of wood-plank steps in the basement area. Against one wall was a long leather seat. He dumped her without care on the seat, stretched her out. He began talking to someone she couldn't see as he removed the handcuffs from her hands and replaced them with leather thongs and then performed the same action with her ankles. Remembering something Butler had said during the tough training course, she compelled herself to relax as the thongs were applied. The gag was removed.

`Well, Dr Hyde,' Starmberg stated in his guttural English, 'this is your new patient, Miss Grey. You will be operating on her.'

`I have the most precise instructions,' an oily voice replied. 'It is only a question of timing.'

`You will be told when. It will be within three days. I leave her in your tender hands…'

Sounds of heavy feet tramping back up the plank stairs, a door opening, slamming shut. At the last sound Paula's morale sank. And that macabre sentence. You will be operating on her.

`Now, my dear Miss Grey, are you comfortable?' the oily voice enquired and the speaker came into view, staring down at her.

Clean shaven, he wore rimless glasses, had a high forehead and thinning brown hair. Smiling down at her, he exposed a perfect set of large teeth. The smile was as phoney as a con-man's but she thought she detected in the smile a streak of sadism.

`What the blazes do you mean by asking if I'm comfortable?' she burst out. 'And do you know the penalty for kidnapping? The crime took place in Germany so you'll be tried there. And while we're on the subject, where am I?'

`Oh, dear me…' The hideous smile became pronounced, reminding Paula of a shark's open mouth. 'You must calm yourself,' Hyde rebuked her. 'If you become hysterical I will have to give you something to put you to sleep. Lie still, I have to complete my examination of your condition.'

He leaned further over her and she saw he was a large man, heavily built and with a paunch. He wore a white jacket like those used by surgeons. His fingers were long, slim and sensitive, like talons. They pulled her jacket off her right shoulder and paused.

`You will be supplied with good food and plenty of liquid. It is essential you do drink a lot of liquid. One hand will be freed at meal-times. Are you left- or right- handed?'

`Right-handed,' Paula said without thinking.

`Wrong shoulder.'

Hyde's fingers pulled her jacket back into place, turned their probing attention to her left shoulder. Removing her jacket, he pulled her blouse free, slid the shoulder strap of her slip down her left arm. His fingers felt, prodded her left shoulder, grasped its bareness, squeezed it.

Paula stopped herself shuddering with revulsion under his searching touch. Then it flashed into her mind that Irene Andover's left arm had been severed close to the shoulder. She fought back a feeling of faintness. You loathsome pervert, she said to herself. She made herself speak in a controlled tone.

`If you spare me it will be taken into account at your trial.'

`You stupid bitch!'

As he spat out the venomous words his fingers dug savagely into her flesh. She gritted her teeth to stop screaming with the pain. The smile had gone. He stood up and used one finger to push his rimless glasses higher up his nose, which was slightly hooked. He disappeared out of view for a few moments. Then she felt a hand grasp her right wrist. At that moment the door into the basement was opened, closed, and she heard clumsy elephantine footsteps treading down the planks.

`Ilena, come here,' Hyde called out. He looked down at Paula. 'Ilena is the nurse who will help me when your time comes. Meantime she will attend to your needs – so, Ilena, come and meet our latest patient.'

A nurse? Looking up Paula saw a woman, also wearing a white hospital-like coat, leaning over her. A short and stocky woman whose arms bulged like tree trunks under the sleeves. Her face was slab-like, Slavic, Paula guessed.

A Romanian? Certainly from Eastern Europe. Hard eyes without humanity stared down at her. She was built like an ox. With a feeling of despair Paula realized she'd be no match for this peasant-like horror if it came to a struggle between them. The woman's hair was dark, trimmed very short.

`Does she speak one single word of English?' Paula burst out again. 'She's going to be a hell of a lot of use.'

'Ilena speaks a little English – enough to understand what you have just said,' Hyde remarked in his worst bedside manner.

He handed the hypodermic he had been going to use himself to the woman.

`You might as well practise on the patient now – so you give her the injection.'

Ilena seized Paula's wrist in an iron grip. Without any consideration she rammed the hypodermic home, pressed the plunger. Paula stifled a scream of agony. The world blurred again. I mustn't go under this time, she told herself. But the whole world faded away into nothing.

Kuhlmann, still at Berliner Tor, reacted with great speed and energy after listening to Newman's phone call. A small group of detectives, dressed in jeans and anoraks, was driven in a plain van and deposited in a side street near the Four Seasons.

Waving empty beer bottles, they staggered into the Neuer Jungfernstieg opposite the Four Seasons Hotel and started a mock fight. Patrol cars with uniformed police appeared, battled with the pseudo-punks, eventually `arrested' them.

While this was going on an unmarked police car stopped at the entrance to the hotel. A plain-clothes detective went inside and straight into an elevator up to Tweed's room. He showed his identity card, produced a floppy-brimmed hat of German make and a German trench coat.

`Put these on please, sir. I'm taking you to Berliner Tor. It's a precaution – in case the opposition is watching the hotel…'

Inside the vehicle, with Tweed beside him as he drove at speed round the lake, he explained.

`This is a very special car. All the windows are one-way glass. We can see out, no one outside can see in. And Mr Newman has taken a taxi to Berliner Tor. He told Chief Inspector Kuhlmann he could disguise himself with a cap and some glasses he was carrying…'

Arriving at Berliner Tor, he drove the car to a rear entrance, escorted Tweed inside the building, took him in an elevator to the large office Tweed had used to phone Inspector Nielsen in Copenhagen. Newman was smoking, pacing the office while Kuhlmann spoke on the phone. Finishing his call, Kuhlmann jumped up as Tweed removed the hat and coat.

`No one will know you have been here. Sit down. I have a lot to tell you.' He glared at Newman, waved his cigar at him. 'And you sit down now. I know you're worried – so listen. Wheels are turning at top speed.'

`Paula has been kidnapped,' Tweed said quietly as he sat down.

`I'm afraid so,' Kuhlmann agreed. 'I know this will have hit you hard – you do have all my sympathy. But action is the order of the day.'

`Absolutely right.' Tweed stiffened himself. 'What do you know so far?'

`I phoned a friend of mine at Inter-Vision TV. They work late too. He told me no film was being made on any location within miles of the Four Seasons. He has also checked his transport and no Inter-Vision vehicle has been stolen. Obviously the kidnap gang plastered similar white vans with stickers printed with the company's name. They'll have peeled them off hours ago. It was an audacious ploy. We are dealing with someone very clever.'

`Any trace of one of those vans?' Tweed asked.

`Not yet. Let me go on. I staged my own play act outside your hotel, organized a mock punk fight – which gave me a plausible reason for sending patrol cars into the area. One of the guests at that hotel may be keeping a watch. We found the doorman they grabbed to use his uniform – all tied up with a blanket thrown over him and shoved beneath some undergrowth near the lakeside walk opposite. Edgar, his name is. He's in hospital with a severe chill.'

Tweed looked at Newman who was listening intently.

`Tell us briefly again about the last time you saw her.'

`I've already told Kuhlmann. After you left the Grill Room to change your suit I waited to sign the bill before paying for everything at reception. Paula said she was going upstairs to pack her sponge bag. I haven't seen her since. I feel responsible…'

`No regrets!' Tweed's tone was suddenly decisive. 'It looks as though a fake doorman, dressed in Edgar's uniform, lured her into the street..

`We've already concluded that,' Kuhlmann interjected. `No point in setting up road-blocks, I imagine?' Tweed suggested.

`Too late. They've already had several hours to get clear. I've got men watching the airport for the morning flights. Anyone taken aboard in a stretcher will be checked. But I don't think they'll go that route. Same with the railway stations. And the river police – they are systematically searching every vessel due to move by daylight. Kohler, the Hamburg police chief, is a good friend – he's given me a quarter of his entire force. Plain-clothes men who will use great discretion to keep it quiet.'

`Thank you again,' Tweed said. 'You seem to have covered the waterfront, as we say.'

`I haven't even started! Just listen. You remember you asked me to trace a Dr Hyde? I got lucky when I called a Danish frontier post – from my description the Danish officer told me a driver from Tinglev had taken him as a passenger across into Jutland – Denmark. I called him again a few minutes ago. A white van which transports a special sort of cake Germans like returned after midnight. The officer thought it was a strange hour for him to be coming back. He said his van had broken down, was delayed while it was repaired. They joked about the amount of the cake the Germans eat. Later the officer wished he'd had the van opened up – something rang phoney about the driver's manner.'

`Jutland. Again. Always Jutland,' Tweed said aloud but really talking to himself. He looked at Kuhlmann. 'I'd appreciate the use of your scrambler again. Mind if I make the call on my own? It's a difficult one.'

`I have other things to check in the communications room down the corridor…'

Newman remained silent as Tweed dialled the Park Crescent number. He was more tactful with Monica when she came on the phone.

`I need to speak to Howard again, if he's still there. I will ask him to give you certain instructions after I've finished the call. Instructions which are vital, and I know you'll do a perfect job. He's there? Good. Put him on the line, please…'

`Howard, this time I'm on scrambler at police HQ in Hamburg. So I can talk more frankly. I'll get Kuhlmann to send one of his couriers with my resignation by the first flight in the morning. Written on Four Seasons letterhead, dated and with the time.'

`Do you have to take this drastic action?'

`Yes. And I can't tell you why. What is terribly important is that Monica spreads the news immediately through our network of contacts here and overseas. She'll know who to get in touch with.'

Howard's voice changed, became businesslike. 'It will be done. You're faced with some appalling emergency. I can guess, but I'm not going to.'

`Howard, this is equally vital. Strictly between you and me. Don't even tell Monica – and while I remember, put a strong guard on her. She might just be grabbed to check on the story of my resignation.'

`This gets grimmer. Go on.'

`I want to retain control of all the men I have over here. And that's most secret…'

`You have control.' There was a pause. 'I do have my own bit of bad news. The PM won't sanction use the SAS team from Hereford without knowing more about the operation.'

`Forget the SAS then. We'll have to manage with what we've got. And one man I do need the support of – Commander Noble of Naval Intelligence. I want to phone him as soon as I can.'

`He called me only a few minutes ago to speak to you. He's working through the night at the Admiralty. I'll not risk the phone – I'm jumping into my car and driving over to tell him personally. With no traffic at this hour the job will be done within fifteen minutes from ending this call.'

`Let's end it then.'

`Tweed, good luck…'

`Why did you have to resign?' Newman asked while they were still alone. 'I know you think it might give us three days to find her, but let's face it – Wand is so inhuman Paula may be dead already.' He looked so downcast that Tweed rallied.

`Yes,' he said, standing up and pacing, 'that is one reason. And a top priority is to save her. But another priority is to throw Wand off guard. When the news of my resignation reaches him he'll think all opposition to him has faded away. I'm pretty sure I know now how his evil mind works.'

`So, what next?'

`I have been worrying that our forces were split in the wrong way. Now I realize I've got it exactly right. One task force – Marler, Nield, and Butler – is heading for Jutland. The sordid Dr Hyde is in that area, as Kuhlmann discovered. It may not be a pleasant thought, but I'm sure that wherever the sordid Dr Hyde is, Paula is being held. Marler won't let the grass grow under his feet. And you and I will go to Copenhagen later tonight with Cardon…' He paused. 'How tired are you? If Kuhlmann will lend us a car I propose we drive to the Danish capital through the night. Otherwise I could drive…'

`No! I can go two nights without sleep. I'm fresh as a daisy. And I suspect you're still in a state of shock, running on automatic pilot

…'

The door opened, Kuhlmann thrust his head inside, spoke quickly to Tweed.

`There's a man called Cardon on the line. Wants to talk to you urgently.'

`He's one of mine…'

Tweed was lifting the receiver as Kuhlmann disappeared. He asked who was speaking.

`Cardon, Chief. From Newman's favourite public phone box. Marler came on the line, asked for me when they couldn't get you at the Four Seasons. Can I talk?'

`I'm on scrambler. Tell me about Marler.'

`He's reached Denmark. He played it clever, knowing he was going through an operator. He said, "I'm having a super holiday. I'm at a place called 'TOnder." He gave me his hotel name – I gather it's a small place – and the number. Here it is..

Tweed noted down the details on a notepad already lying on the table in front of him.

`Philip, is your case packed?'

`Yes. I'm ready to leave at a moment's notice.'

`Do just that. Your bill is paid. Give the hotel some plausible excuse for leaving at this hour. Damned if I can think of one.'

`I'm moving to the Atlantic,' Cardon said instantly. `Why? Because my girl friend's staying there and I want to be closer to her. I'll watch the clerk's expression, see if he can preserve the dignified "the client is always right" this place is noted for. What do I do then?'

`Get well clear of the Four Seasons. Find a cruising taxi. There are always some in Hamburg. Get the driver to take you to the Hotel Berlin, pay him off. Then look round – I'm at Berliner Tor and it's the only twenty storey high building in sight. Ask for me – I'm on the fifteenth floor…'

`You smiled at something he said,' Newman observed. `He said something funny. He always cheers me up. He'll be here soon.'

He had just finished speaking when Kuhlmann entered the office like a whirlwind, sank into a chair facing Tweed.

`Something I forgot to tell you. Dr Wand landed at Kastrup Airport a few hours ago. Inspector Nielsen called me. A limousine met him – he arrived alone. The limo drove him to the Gentofte area north of Copenhagen – a wealthy district with some expensive villas…'

`That's Dr Wand,' Tweed said cynically. 'All financed by his refugee aid organization. You have an address?'

Kuhlmann took out a piece of folded paper, pushed it across the desk.

`That's it. Near some posh hotel called Jaegersborg, Nielsen said. His men are watching Wand's villa.' He held up a hand as Tweed opened his mouth to speak. 'Don't worry – Nielsen's men are being very discreet, conducting their surveillance from a distance with special equipment.'

`Could you do me a favour?' Tweed produced the envelope addressed to Howard containing his written resignation. 'I badly need a courier to fly with this to London urgently tomorrow – no, today. He is to go to Park Crescent and deliver this envelope into Howard's hands personally. No one else but Howard.'

`That's easy.' Kuhlmann took the envelope. 'Any of the local detectives welcome a trip to London. Kohler will choose someone reliable_ He'll be aboard the first flight.'

`Another favour. Can you provide us with a good car to drive to Copenhagen? There are no flights at this hour and I want to be at the Puttgarden ferry terminal to cross the Baltic to Denmark as early as possible. I think I can outmanoeuvre the insidious Dr Wand.'

`A Mercedes, if possible,' Newman chipped in. 'Without police plates.'

`Not wasting time, are we?' Kuhlmann commented. 'I'll go and arrange for a car now. Be back soon…'

Thirty minutes later he opened the door again. `A friend of yours. See you…'

Philip Cardon walked into the room, winked at Newman, sat down on a couch with his case by his side.

`Has Marler a chance in hell of tracing Dr Hyde?' Newman asked anxiously.

`I'm convinced Starmberg is in Jutland with them,' Tweed told him. 'And Marler has pictures of that gentleman he took at Blankenese yesterday morning – you showed one to Paula. He gave me copies.'

Opening the case he had brought from the Four Seasons, Tweed extracted a plastic wallet packed with prints. He handed Newman several of Starmberg. Walking over to Cardon, he selected more prints, spread them on the couch.

`That one is Dr Wand – taken by Marler at London Airport. This one is Dr Hyde. And these three are Jules Starmberg.' Standing up, he felt the fatigue, sat down at the table again.

`When Kuhlmann provides the car I suggest we leave at once, driving through the night to Puttgarden. It's the direct route to Copenhagen.'

`And I suppose,' Newman mused, 'we mustn't forget Stealth – especially after our experiences at Blankenese harbour with the Holsten.'

`Stealth ships are in the forefront of my mind,' Tweed assured him. 'Especially with Wand dashing off to Denmark – and that large colony of unoccupied but furnished houses waiting for occupants in Jutland.'