Precipice

27

Keith Kent had decided it was time to revisit the Zurcher Kredit Bank. He felt confident that Brazil would have left some time ago. In any case, he could check to see if the limo was still waiting for him.

Driving out of the Globus garage, he followed another devious route. In Zurich you could hardly ever drive straight from A to B. The insidious one-way system was a guarantee against that happening.

Later, driving down Talstrasse for the second time, he saw the limo had gone. He parked his car, was careful to feed the meter with coins. You don't get lucky twice – not where parking attendants are concerned.

Walking slowly into the bank, he studied the tellers behind the counters guarded by grilles. He had deliberately left his coat in the car, and he was wearing the type of expensive business suit Swiss banks associated with reliable customers. He chose a dopey-looking girl at the end of the counter. She had just suppressed a yawn.

Smiling, he leaned on the counter, gazed at her with admiration before he spoke.

'My name is Benton. I shall shortly have to make a very large transfer of money into Mr Leopold Brazil's main account. He insisted it must be deposited in his main account.'

'That would be at Sion,' the girl informed him.

'In the Valais.' Kent gave her another nice smile. 'I am most grateful to you. So will be Mr Brazil…'

He left quickly before she had time to mention what he had asked to another teller. He had persuaded her by his easy manner to break all the rules of secrecy.

'Now.' he said to himself, 'where Newman is Tweed cannot be far behind. So back to Globus once more, dump the chariot, walk to the Schweizerhof…'

Kent had almost reached the top of Bahnhofstrasse where it merged with Bahnhofplatz when he glanced across to the opposite side of the street. Standing on the corner so she could see the entrance to the Schweizerhof was the girl with jet hair he'd seen following Newman earlier.

He couldn't see her hair but he recognized the scarf round her head, the well-cut camel-hair coat. Kent was a man who made up his mind quickly. He waited for a tram to trundle past, crossed the street, stood in front of her, and smiled.

'Hello there, you look lonely. I'm Tom Benton.'

'Or Tomcat,' she replied instantly, eyeing him up and down.

'So we're both English, both on our own in a foreign city. I know the best place in town for dinner. It's in the Altstadt. What do they call you?'

'Sharon Stone. And I'm waiting for my boy friend.'

She had hardly finished speaking when Bill Franklin arrived out of nowhere. He grinned.

'Well, if it isn't Eve Warner. Long way from Dorset.' He looked at Kent and was about to recognize him when Kent spoke quickly.

'Hello, Bill. I've just introduced myself as Tom Benton to the lady, asked her out to dinner, but she's playing hard to get.'

'I told you my boy friend was on his way,' Eve replied swiftly. She took hold of Franklin's arm. 'I thought you were never coming. Let's go down to the lake.'

'Hold on. Half a mo'.' Franklin responded, standing still. 'What is all this, Eve? I didn't even know you were in Zurich.'

'You're a big help!' she snapped and stormed off down Bahnhofstrasse.

'Funny lady,' Franklin commented, holding out his hand. 'What are you doing in the city of gold, Keith?' he asked when they had shaken hands.

'Business. Confidential.'

'Close-mouthed as ever.' Franklin grinned again. 'Well, since you've undertaken assignments for me in the past it does inspire confidence. Now I've got to slip into the Schweizerhof to visit a mutual friend.'

'The friend has a name?' Kent enquired casually. 'Because that's where I'm going.'

Franklin paused, then threw back his head and burst out laughing. Taking out a handkerchief he wiped tears from his eyes.

'Let's go there together. You sit in the lobby while I have a word with the concierge. This could be very funny indeed. And what a coincidence – meeting Eve Warner and you.'

'I'm lucky with coincidences. They've made me a lot of money.. .'

Eve was puffing furiously at a cigarette as she walked down Bahnhofstrasse back to the Baur-en-Ville. She was livid. No matter how she tried to dismiss the idea, she felt sure Bill Franklin would, sooner or later, phone Tweed in London and report her presence in Zurich. And I was so careful on the way out, she recalled. Then a thought struck her which stopped her in her tracks for several seconds.

She had seen Newman enter the Schweizerhof. Was it possible – even likely – that Tweed also was at the same hotel? She cursed under her breath, resumed walking. Twice she glanced back but Franklin and the man who had introduced himself as Tom Benton were nowhere in sight.

Inside her room at the hotel she threw her coat and scarf over a chair. The coat slid to the floor but she ignored it. Her first priority was the vodka bottle. She poured herself a large glass, kicked her shoes off across the carpet, sprawled out on a couch, drank half the glass. Then she noticed the lighted cigarette she had dropped inside an ashtray had fallen on the floor.

Cursing again, she picked it up, used it to light a fresh one. There was a burn mark on the carpet but that didn't bother her. The place was costing a fortune to stay at, she felt sure. Lucky Brazil was paying the bill.

Settling herself on the couch again, she drank the rest of the vodka and concentrated as she smoked.

'How can I make some money out of what's just happened? I'd like to make a really big pile.' she thought aloud.

Franklin stood by the concierge's counter, holding the phone he'd been handed.

'Bill Franklin downstairs in the lobby. Can I come up, Tweed?' He took a deep breath. 'Oh, there's someone else also waiting to see you. Keith Kent. We met in the street.'

'Both of you had better come up then.' Tweed said without a pause. 'Get the concierge to give you the room number. I always forget them. ..'

In his room Tweed put down the phone and turned to Newman. He chuckled.

'Bob, I've been caught out. Franklin's on his way up. With Keith Kent. They bumped into each other in the street.'

'Does it matter?'

'I don't think it matters at all. Might help. They now know they're in competition with each other. And there's nothing like a bit of rivalry to give them both an extra edge.'

'I didn't realize they even knew each other.' said Paula, who had returned from lunch.

'Neither did I,' Tweed admitted. 'But I can see how it probably happened. Keith Kent has a great reputation as a money tracer. Franklin's detective outfit may well have had a request from a client to trace a large sum. Bill would immediately think of Kent, who has expertise he doesn't possess. Let's see what they have to tell us.' He stood up. 'And here, I think, they are…'

Paula and Newman knew both men so no time was wasted as Tweed ushered his visitors to seats. He invited Kent to speak first, knowing how terse he was.

'Leopold Brazil has now made his main bank the Zurcher Kredit branch at Sion. In the Valais.'

Tweed, who had just told Paula about Philip leaving for the Valais on his own, saw her mouth tighten.

'Earlier I also saw Brazil visit the Zurcher Kredit here in Talstrasse,' Kent went on. 'I'm guessing, but I think he was transferring the balance of his funds in Zurich to Sion. Which is very weird – Sion is a nowhere place. That's it.'

'It's more than enough,' Tweed said grimly. 'Bill, the stage is yours.'

'I was in Berne this morning. There's a lawyer there called Voigt who used to work for Brazil. He broke off all contact with him when Brazil tried to tell him how to run his business. But Voigt has sources of a curious nature all over Europe. He told me Brazil is bringing in all his troops from France and Germany. Their destination? Sion in the Valais.'

'I see,' said Tweed, not looking at Paula.

'I had an odd experience when I left Voigt's office,' Franklin continued. 'His place is in a narrow old alley off the Munstergasse. When I came out a thin man with a white face was lying in the snow. As soon as he saw me he reached for a long knife. Instead of waiting for him to attack me I gave him a good kick in the head. That seemed to quench any enthusiasm for a fight. Why he was going to attack me I have no idea.'

'We have something else to tell Tweed.' Kent reminded him.

'Yes.' Franklin folded his hands behind his head. 'I was on my way here when I saw Keith talking to someone I'd never have expected to see here in a hundred years. Eve Warner.'

There was a sudden silence. Tweed looked at Paula who gave him a thumbs-down reaction. Newman shrugged before he spoke.

'The lady does get around.'

'And the lady knows you're here.' Kent informed him. 'Staying at this hotel.'

He explained how he had seen her twice, the first time when she had followed Newman from the Hotel Gotthard.

'The information you have both given us is invaluable.' Tweed told his visitors. 'May I suggest you both keep digging?'

'We won't waste time checking up on each other.' Franklin said with a broad grin.

'You both have different talents, different contacts.' Tweed said as he stood up. 'This affair is so serious I need all the data you can provide. Thank you for what you have done so far.' he ended, escorting them to the door.

Paula exploded the moment they had gone.

As Tweed sat down to absorb what he had heard Paula stood up, gazing at Tweed.

'Now look what you have done!' she told him bitterly. 'He, Philip, has been sent into the lions' den. On his own. Or maybe that is your way of letting him show he can prove himself. Is that it?'

'Philip can cope…" Tweed began quietly.

'Oh, can he?' Paula stood over him. 'When Bill Franklin has just told us that lawyer, Voigt, said Brazil has recalled all his troops from France and Germany -that this horde is bound for Sion. Sion! Where Philip is now on his way to see Marchat.'

'Sit down, please. Keep quiet for a moment.'

There was something in Tweed's expression which made Paula do his bidding. Tweed said nothing for awhile, watching her as she calmed down.

'I can understand your reaction,' he said, 'but, I repeat, Philip will cope. Have a little more faith in him.'

'Well, at least he doesn't know the Eve woman is in town,' Paula conceded.

'Paula does have a point,' Newman remarked. 'The trouble is, Paula, I dare not suggest we all head for Sion at once. Tweed has this vital meeting with Leopold Brazil here this evening. Tweed and I have already encountered Craig and three thugs in a car outside here. We all -including Marler, Butler, and Nield – need to be here in case of more trouble until the meeting is over.'

'Do we have Anton Marchat's address in Sion?' Paula asked in a normal tone.

'We do. From Philip. We also have copies of the photo of Marchat.'

Tweed opened a briefcase, took out a wallet, handed one piece of paper to Paula and four similar sheets to Newman. Then he extracted five photos, handed one to Paula and four to Newman.

'This hasn't got Marchat's name on it.' commented Paula.

'Neither had the original which Archie wrote the address on. Archie is very careful,' Tweed replied.

'Of course. I should have thought of that. Now I've taken a decision.' Paula stood up, her expression determined. 'I appreciate the main body of the team must stay here until Brazil has left, but I am catching the first express to Geneva. There I shall board another express for the Valais.'

'You should wait.' Tweed told her. 'It's just possible I may be able to persuade Brazil to abandon this project he's planning, whatever it may be. Then the danger has gone away.'

'I'm still catching the Geneva express.' Paula said as she went towards the door.

'I said wait.' Tweed ordered.

'In that case I'm handing in my resignation to you now.'

She had her grip on the door handle when Tweed replied in the same quiet tone.

'Your resignation is not accepted.'

Newman jumped up, accompanied Paula to her room. She turned to him when they were both inside.

'I have to pack.'

'I know.' said Newman and grinned. 'I gave Philip a little extra armament. I'd like you to be equipped with the same. Back in no time. I'll rap on your door with my usual tattoo.'

'It's getting a bit out of date, that tattoo. You should invent a new one.' Paula commented with a smile.

He returned very quickly as she was finishing packing her case. From a small canvas holdall he produced a cardboard carton wrapped in blue ribbon and with the word Dumbo on the outside. He handed it to her.

'What in Heaven's name is that, Bob?'

'A present for the nephew you don't have. Actually you will find a tear-gas pistol inside, spare shells, smoke bombs – and be careful with these. They're stun grenades. You've handled them before.'

'No need for you to send Marler and Co. after me.' she joked.

He waited until she had concealed the 'presents' he had given her. She put on her coat and gloves, smiled at Newman.

'Carry your bag, lady?' he said.

'I'd be grateful, porter. You may even get a tip.'

Arriving at the main station, Newman checked the departure board, saw there was an express leaving for Geneva in five minutes. He told her to find a compartment and rushed to get her a first-class ticket. She was leaning out of the window when he ran onto the platform, handed her the ticket. She leaned further out, kissed him on the cheek.

'That's your tip.'

The express began to move out and she waved to him from the window. He stood watching its last coach until it disappeared round a bend.