The Janus Man

Part 3 The Janus Man
Fifty-Two

Newman and Tweed enjoyed a late and leisurely dinner with Diana at the Jensen. The restaurant was full and Harry Butler sat at the window table by himself. It must be his turn for night duty, Tweed thought. Nield would be over at the Movenpick, catching up on sleep.

He let Newman and Diana do the talking. They'd finished the dessert when Diana placed a hand over Tweed's. She winked at Newman.

`He's gone into a trance. He does that, you know…'

`Leave him alone,' Newman chaffed her. 'He's thinking. It doesn't come easy.'

The waiter came to the table a few moments later. He told Tweed a Mr Kuhlmann was on the phone. Tweed excused himself, went out into the lobby and said he'd take the call in his room. On the way up in the elevator he checked the time. It was midnight.

`That you, Tweed? Imminent you said. You were too bloody right. Blessed with second sight?'

Kuhlmann sounded disturbed, which surprised Tweed. The German was always so cool, detached.

`What's happened?' he asked.

`Another murder. Out at Travemunde Strand. On the beach. Almost the same place where the Swedish girl, Iris Hansen, was butchered. This one is something else again.' He paused. Tweed could have sworn he heard Kuhlmann gulp.

‘Go on. I'm listening…'

`American girl this time. Sue Templeton. I knew her. She helped me track Franck. A blonde again. Of course. And I could hardly recognize her. That maniac had a field day this time.'

`Know when it happened?'

Tweed's voice was steady, almost off-hand. Inwardly he was feeling sick. Pressure. So Dr Generoso had said. Pressure will make him crack. And I've applied the pressure…'

`Just about 10.30 this evening. What? No – no trace of the killer. Hold on, Tweed. Someone's handed me a signal for you.' Brief pause. 'It's for you – from Walter Three. Signal reads, power cruiser Nordsee under way. Proceeding to north. Tracking. Signed Walter Three…'

`That's it? I must go.'

`They'll be talking about this latest killing in Lubeck now,' Kuhlmann warned. 'The victim's English boy friend who found the body ran back to the Maritim and blabbed all over the reception hall. And I must get back to the beach.'

Tweed paused half way inside the restaurant. A waiter was chattering to a group at a table near the entrance. He caught a snatch of the conversation.

`An American girl… cut to pieces… raped… spread all over the beach…'

Tweed walked down to his own table at a normal pace. Diana was sitting rigidly, her right hand clenching her napkin in a ball. Newman looked at Tweed with a bleak expression.

`Have you heard? Out at Travemunde?'

`It's beastly, horrible,' Diana burst out. 'Another poor blonde girl…'

Tweed put an arm round her shoulder, glanced across at Butler's table. 'Better get to bed,' he suggested.

He saw Butler leaving his table as he escorted her from the restaurant with Newman at his heels. They rode up in the elevator in silence. Diana unlocked her door, said Good Night, closed it. Tweed took Newman by the arm.

`We have to move fast. Everything's happening. Go over to the Movenpick. Wake up Pete Nield. Kick down the door if necessary. He's to get dressed, pack his case, pay his bill and be back here in ten minutes. Pack your own case. I'm going up to pack mine. I'll pay your bill. I want to be out of here in fifteen minutes. Now, I must have a word with Butler…'

`Where are we going?'

`Travemunde. I want you to drive there like hell. It's all exploding as I predicted. See you…'

He beckoned to Butler who had just stepped out of the elevator, took him along to his room and closed the door.

At that hour, with Newman driving, they made record time to Travemunde. At Tweed's instruction Newman parked the Audi near the police station. With Newman on one side and Nield on the other, Tweed explained as they walked along the waterfront.

Nield, you're a qualified radio op. Are you rusty?'

`Hardly. I'm a radio ham in my spare time. That is, what spare time I get. Why?'

`Can you handle the latest transceiver aboard a power cruiser?'

`I'll give it a try.'

`What are we up to?' Newman asked.

`Heading for the Sudwind. I've told you about the signal Kulhmann gave me. We're going to follow the Nordsee in the Sudwind. I trust one of you can navigate at night?'

`I'll give it a try,' said Newman. 'What about the Sea King?'

`Casey's trying to track the Nordsee. My bet is it has Dr Berlin at the helm, that he's heading for the Skagerrak. His ultimate destination could be England. I think he's taking that huge drug haul with him. Lysenko's audacity has gone overboard. It does happen. A man holds a job too long – thinks he can get away with anything. Although, using Balkan is clever, I admit.'

`Who is Balkan?' Nield asked.

`Here's the landing stage,' Tweed said, ignoring the question. `We have water to drink.' Newman was carrying a large plastic canister Tweed had obtained from the manager of the Jensen.

Tweed led the way, feet clumping rapidly along the planks of the landing stage, carrying his suitcase in his right hand. He was about to cross the gangway on to the Sudwind when Newman rested the container on the stage and grasped him by the arm.

`Let me check. I'm armed.'

`You didn't take that Luger with you…' Tweed glanced at Newman… on your recent trip?'

`Of course not. I gave it to Toll. He put it in a safety deposit box at a local bank, left the receipt and a letter in a sealed envelope for me at the Movenpick. I collected it a few days ago.'

Newman opened his jacket, revealed the hip holster. A pro had once told him never to use a shoulder holster. 'Takes half an hour to drag the thing out,' he'd warned. Newman extracted the Luger, took out the torch Stahl had given him and went aboard the darkened vessel.

Tweed glanced round. The waterfront was deserted. Lights showed in the portholes of some of the moored craft, including Ann Grayle's sloop. There was no wind, the air was stuffy, the sky above studded with enormous stars. Nield followed his upward glance.

`A clear night – should be good for radio transmission. And I'm armed, too.' He produced a Walther automatic. 'By kind permission of Kuhlmann. Harry has another one.' He looked at the Sudwind as Newman reappeared.

`Come aboard,' Newman called out. 'All clear.'

`You go aboard,' Tweed told Nield, handing him his case. `Get everything ready for immediate departure. I have a call to make from the local police station. Back in five minutes.'

He got through to Monica quickly. She sounded relieved to hear his voice. She's holding the fort all night long Tweed thought.

`I'm so glad you've called, Tweed. A message has just come in from Butler. Speaking from Lubeck Hauptbahnhof. Reads as follows. "Diana has flown the coop. Boarding the night express for Copenhagen. Arrives Copenhagen 0645 hours. Will leave any message Royal Hotel. Butler." ' Monica paused briefly. 'He sounded in a rush. Action this day, as Churchill used to say?'

`Very much so..

`I'll sleep here. Good luck.'

Copenhagen? Why Copenhagen, Tweed wondered as he hurried to the Sudwind. And why had Diana panicked? Newman had the engine throbbing as tie went aboard and entered the wheelhouse.

`We can go any time,' Newman reported. 'This is going to be one hell of a chase. Berlin will be able to move as fast as we can. Want a cup of water?'

`Yes, please.'

Tweed extracted the packet of Dramamine he always carried for sea sickness, popped one of the yellow pills in his mouth and swallowed water. Nield, who was fiddling with the powerful transceiver, watched with amusement.

`It's calm as the proverbial millpond.'

'A glass of water wobbling on a table can make me feel very queasy.' Tweed used his pen to write on a notepad lying on the chart table. 'Here is the call signal, waveband, etc. Casey is operating on from the Sea King. He's Walter Three. Well, can you operate that thing?'

'You're joking? Give me a few minutes to get the hang of it.' He took the sheet of paper Tweed tore off the pad. 'I tell this Casey what when I make contact?'

'Everything. That we're pursuing the Nordsee. That we need regular fixes on that vessel's position and course.' Tweed glanced briefly at the chart Newman had spread out over the table. 'Where did you get this?'

'From that stack of rolled charts under the table. Very well equipped, this cruiser, for going almost anywhere. And as I told you earlier, we have full fuel tanks.'

'How long to reach Copenhagen?'

'Be there by morning.'

'That is,' Tweed amended, 'if he takes the eastern route through the Oresund. He could veer west and use the western channel between the Danish islands of Fynn and Sjelland..

'Casey will be able to guide us – when I get through to him,' Nield said.

'Ready to move?' Newman asked. 'Right. Cast off, Pete.' 'I'll give a hand,' Tweed said.

'You'll feel queasy,' Nield said as he led the way down the gangway.

'Oh, do shut up!'

Nield waited at the stern while Tweed released the bow rope from the bollard, ran back on board and heaved the gangway on deck. Nield stared, surprised at his chief's strength. Then he dealt with the stern rope, threw it on board and leapt after it as the Sudwind drifted away from the landing stage. Newman gently increased power, the cruiser moved out into the channel and he swung the wheel north – north for Copenhagen.

Tweed sat on the edge of a bunk in the large cabin, acutely miserable. He kept checking his watch. The Dramamine took full effect in half an hour. Nield appeared at the door.

'I've made contact with Walter Three. The Nordsee is heading for the Oresund. It's Copenhagen.'

Tweed shook his head. 'I think he'll proceed through the narrows and into the Kattegat. Can't Newman keep this thing on a more even course?'

`He's doing just that. Sea's calm. Lovely night for our cruise…'

`Do shut up!' Tweed repeated.

When Nield had gone he closed his eyes, but only for a moment. The pitching sensation seemed to increase. He looked again at the two new locks which had been forced open, the steel chisel and hammer lying on the bunk alongside him. He forced himself to his feet, went to one of the large damaged drawers, opened it. Empty. He checked the second drawer. Also empty. He took a deep breath and heaved himself up the steps to the bridge which was enclosed and roofed over. Newman was helmsman while Nield crouched over the transceiver with his headset.

`Damned rough, isn't it?' he remarked.

`Rough?' Newman stared at him. 'A trifle choppy, that's all. We're in the open Baltic. And Casey wants to know whether he should radio the harbour master at Copenhagen – get the Nordsee stopped and searched.'

`No! Under no circumstances. We must track him to the bitter end, find his ultimate landfall.'

Tweed held on to the gleaming brass rail at the front of the bridge. He was beginning to feel less ill. The Dramamine had taken effect. One every four hours, he reminded himself. The only way he could get through this traumatic experience.

The bow rose and fell gently, rose and fell. Tweed felt like spare cargo. He was nearly going spare at the thought of the time he might have to spend aboard this rocking tub. He was unaware of the passage of time, resisted the temptation to keep checking his watch. At one stage in their passage Newman lifted a pair of high-powered glasses to his eyes and gazed to the west. He scanned the horizon, his night sight excellent on the dimly-lit bridge. He handed the glasses to Tweed.

`Over there. The Fehmarn Belt. You can pick up the lights of the train ferry crossing from Puttgarden to Rodby.'

Tweed eventually found the lights. It would be carrying the night express to Copenhagen. It gave him an odd feeling to realize Diana was aboard. Thank God Butler had spotted her panic departure – which meant he also would be on board. His message to Monica had said they'd reach Copenhagen at 0645 hours. Long before the Sudwind. Once the express had moved off the ferry it would thunder through the night. He became aware that they were changing course, lowered the glasses, looked at the compass. North by north-east. He glanced back at the stern, saw their wake curving in a wide arc.

`What's happening?' he asked.

`Look over there – the flashing light. Gedser lighthouse. Keep on our previous course and we run slap into Denmark. Look at the chart,' Newman said.

They were moving under full power now. Tweed had realized this when he saw the swift sweep of the wake, a blurred froth on the black Baltic. He groaned inwardly when he examined the chart. Only about a quarter of the way to Copenhagen.

`I think I'll take a brief nap,' Nield said, standing up off the leather-backed stool in front of the transceiver. 'Always kip when you can. Wake me if Casey calls..

Kip when you can. The phrase recalled to Newman Falken's three basic maxims. Where was the German now? Where was Gerda? He pushed the thoughts out of his mind, concentrating on his steering. Newman and Tweed were alone for the first time since they'd boarded the Sudwind.

`Is this legal?' Newman asked. 'Pirating the Sudwind?' `Doubt it. Is smuggling heroin – five hundred kilos of killer, legal?'

`You have a point. What do we do when – if – we catch up with Dr Berlin?'

`If I'm right, he has to disappear forever.'

That's why you checked that I had the Luger?'

`We'll decide how we do it when the time comes. We can't afford the scandal. England can't. Mass murderer a senior chief in the SIS. Not on, Bob. I'm just not sure how we are going to accomplish the job.'

`Which is why you won't let Casey get the harbour master at Copenhagen to stop the Sudwind?'

`I don't like it any more than you do. But it's the only way.'

They were off the east coast of the Danish island of Sjelland – on which Copenhagen stands – when Tweed spotted the navigation lights of the Sea King approaching high up. He glanced at the transceiver, went aft to the cabin and shook Nield who was sprawled in one of the bunks.

`Signal coming through…'

Nield came awake instantly, swung his legs on to the deck and ran up the steps. When Tweed reached the bridge he was sitting with his headset in position. He listened, made a note on his pad, acknowledged, took off the headset and went to the chart table, marking a cross.

`Sudwind now here. Very close to entrance to Oresund.' `Call back to Casey,' Tweed said sharply. 'Tell to keep the vessel under very close observation for the next hour.'

`What's the matter?' Newman asked, turning the wheel a few degrees. 'And I've been thinking. Why didn't we take the night express to Copenhagen with Diana and Butler? We'd have arrived in plenty of time to hire a boat and wait for Berlin to arrive.'

`Because of the signal Nield is sending. The Sudwind may still turn due east, then move north up into the Swedish – even the Finnish – archipelago. Even with a chopper tailing him, he could have given it the slip. You remember those archipelagos? Thousands of islands and they're like a labyrinth.'

`Why would he go up there?'

`Because he may make another transhipment to another vessel. They've done that once – you saw it aboard the Wroclaw.' -

`What type of vessel?'

`Maybe another power cruiser like this one, like the Nordsee. A cruiser called the Nocturne.'

`You have a reason for thinking that?'

`Yes. I've just realized who that man with bandages on his face – the one who called on Ann Grayle – is.'