The Power

41

Paula gazed in wonderment at the Ice Age world they had entered at this high altitude. Massive snow-covered bluffs loomed far above them as Newman guided the Espace higher and higher up a diabolical spiral. Suspended from overhanging crags were immense spears of ice like stalactites. They were now near enough to the summit to have lost the sun, driving in cold menacing shadow on the side road Newman had turned along.

She shivered inwardly as she peered up at the immensity of snow and ice hovering above them. She had the feeling it might all topple on them at any moment, burying them under a sea of snow and ice for ever.

'Don't think the sun ever reaches here,' Tweed commented.

'I think it's getting creepy,' Jennie replied.

'You ain't seen nothing yet,' Newman joked. 'Look what is coming up. Ladies and gentlemen, our guided tour of the Vosges has just reached Lac Noir. The infamous Black Lake.'

Time we stretched our legs, limbered up,' Tweed suggested. 'We're close to the chateau and want to arrive fresh.'

'Oh, my God! What a horror,' Paula burst out as she stepped out after Tweed.

Newman had switched off the engine and a terrible silence descended on them. The Espace had been stopped close to a low stone wall. Beyond it the waters of Lac Noir stretched away – waters black as pitch and still as a pit of tar, which Paula thought it resembled. Worse still, the small lake ended at the base of a black granite cliff facing them – a cliff which rose vertical and sheer in the bleak shadows. Paula looked slowly up the wall of the cliff and felt dizzy when she saw the iron-hard line of the summit, the hideous medieval-like castle which stood perched way above them on the high brink. It was the intense stillness as much as the Siberian cold which paralysed her mind as she gazed at the monstrous edifice, the fantasy brought into existence by some crazy American millionaire Heaven knew how long ago. There were lights in the chateau windows – there would have to be on this grim shadowed side.

'A bit bleak round here,' Tweed commented.

'Bloody terrifying,' replied Jennie who had climbed out after the others.

'That's a bit of an exaggeration,' Tweed said, aware the atmosphere was affecting morale. 'Bob, I want to get up to the chateau at the earliest possible moment – to see Amberg

The drive up the narrow precipitous road overhanging the southern end of the lake was a nightmare. Newman had his headlights on as he drove up and round hairpin bends with fearsome drops into the black water now far below.

'Some Grand Tour of the Vosges,' Paula said bitingly.

'At least it's a unique experience,' Jennie responded as she peered out of the window down the endless drop.

'One way of looking at it,' Paula snapped.

'One positive way of looking at it,' Jennie corrected her.

'Are you trying to pick a verbal fight with me?' Paula demanded, twisting round in her seat to glare at the other woman.

'Why should I want to do that?' Jennie flashed back, her eyes blazing. 'And I do have my uses – in case it has slipped what passes for your mind, I spotted those men on the ridge. Butler could be dead by now if I had not warned Tweed.'

'All right. You were a help, a big help. You saw something I missed and should have seen.'

Paula was startled. Jennie could be a hellcat, had looked at Paula as though she could have strangled her. Tweed wasn't prepared to be distracted by a female dispute as the moment approached when he would confront Amberg.

'If both of you would keep quiet maybe I could think. So not another word. Bob, we must be close now.'

'We'll reach the summit within five minutes,' reported Paula, who despite her altercation with Jennie had kept a close eye on the map. 'From there it appears to be no distance at all to the chateau.'

Tweed looked ahead at a moment when the snake of a road was inclined at an angle of forty-five degrees. Butler, who was still preceding them on his motorcycle, paused briefly, waved Newman on, continued the ascent on his machine.

Glancing back over his shoulder the view made Tweed feel dizzy. Inclined at this precipitous angle he was staring down direct on to the deathly stillness of Black Lake – so far below now he almost suffered an attack of vertigo.

'Don't look back,' he warned Paula and Jennie. 'That's an order.'

Behind the Espace Nield was driving the station wagon up the ascent with Cardon bringing up the rear on his motorcycle. The system of the two outriders racing back and forth past the vehicles which had been employed earlier was now impossible. Any attempt by Cardon to overtake the station wagon and then the Espace would undoubtedly have ended with his machine falling over the brink and plunging hundreds of feet into the still waters of Black Lake.

'I think we've reached the top,' Paula called out, unable to suppress the relief she felt.

Butler had again paused, twisting round in his saddle to give the 'V for victory sign. The road levelled out, Paula risked a quick glimpse back, saw only a projecting rock bluff which masked any view of the lake or the panorama beyond. She swung her head to face front.

'We're home and dry! There's the Chateau Noir. A grim-looking brute, but it's heaven to be back on the level. Home and dry,' she repeated.

'Not my idea of home,' Tweed commented. 'Just look at the place.'

Paula gazed at the high granite wall surrounding the great castle, at the huge square stone keep rising up even higher than any other part of the grim structure. Newman had stopped the Espace close under the lee of the wall, close to but out of sight of the tall wrought-iron gates which barred the en trance.

Nield parked his station wagon behind the Espace, got out to speak to Tweed, and was joined by Butler and Cardon. Tweed had jumped out of the Espace and stood stretching the stiffness out of his arms and legs. It had been a somewhat tense journey, he reflected.

'How do we handle it?' asked Newman as Paula and Jennie followed him out into the bitter air.

'Tactfully – until we get inside,' Tweed replied.

Paula gazed round, relieved also to be able to exercise her limbs which had become tense with fear and anxiety. At least on this side of the chateau they were in the full blaze of the sun shining down out of a clear blue sky. But still there was the brooding silence of the high Vosges and she stamped her boots in the iron-hard snow to stop herself shivering. Cardon pointed to a wire elevated above the top of the wall which ran out of sight.

'Electrified,' he commented. 'I hope Amberg doesn't rely on that for security -I could neutralize it inside five minutes.'

Tweed addressed Nield, Butler and Cardon after checking his watch.

'I'm going to insist that Amberg allows you inside with your transport. As soon as you're parked check the layout of the whole set-up from the outside. Look for weak points where an attack might be launched. Plan a defence of the whole castle

'You're expecting an assault?' Newman queried.

'Norton's objective right from the beginning has been to get hold of the mysterious film and tape. He'll think -as I do – that Amberg has them in his safekeeping. So yes, an assault is possible – even probable. Now let's hope Amberg is at home…'

Tweed left the others hidden behind the wall. Marching up to the closed gates, he operated the speakphone he'd seen embedded in the left-hand gate pillar, pressing the button below the metal grille. He had to press it again before a disembodied voice he recognized spoke.

'Who are you?' the voice demanded in German.

This is Tweed outside,' he said, speaking in English. 'I must talk to you urgently.'

'Someone else called here yesterday, said he was Tweed. He was an imposter, an American. How do I know you are the genuine Tweed?'

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 facade 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 company 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 chateau. Of course the Yankee 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 constructed of marble. Enclosed under an arched roof, the marble covered all the surrounding surfaces. A figure was swimming 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 swimmer. 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 queried 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 complimentary 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 murder 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.'

'Good. I want to synchronize the film with the sounds on the tape. And Gaunt also would like to be present. At long last we are getting somewhere.'