This United state

32

Driving through Basel at night was an eerie experience, Paula was thinking. She liked the city, but in the dark the medieval buildings, illuminated only by street lanterns at intervals, had a majestic – and sinister – atmosphere. There were no trams running at this hour, the streets were deserted, the shadows deep and menacing.

She sat beside Newman, who was driving the first car. In the rear seats Tweed was alongside Keith Kent. Tweed was sitting up erect, his eyes everywhere. The adrenalin was flowing and he was very alert. He knew the layout of the city well and was on the lookout for anything unusual, which should not be there.

'We're getting close to the border,' he warned after a while.

'Marler's keeping up with us well, not too close, not far behind,' Newman commented after checking his rearview mirror.

Tweed glanced back through the rear window. Marler was driving the second Audi. As passengers he had Butler and Nield in the back. The seat beside him was unoccupied – for a purpose. He slowed as Newman's car lost speed, then the two cars stopped.

In the near distance was the checkpoint at the border. Paula could make out the heavy figure of Jake Ronstadt behind the wheel of a black Audi. He had his window down and appeared to be arguing with the duty officer. Another officer searched the interior of the car while three men in dark coats stood outside.

'What the hell is this all about?' Ronstadt was demanding for the third time. 'I've shown you my diplomatic passport. You have no right to stop us – let alone search the car.'

'Information received, sir,' another officer replied. 'What information might that be, buddy?'

'We are not allowed to disclose our sources. Would you mind stepping out so I can check the front?'

'I damned well would. I'm reporting this to Washington. And I'd like your name.'

'As Chief Customs Officer at this crossing point I have sole authority…'

He paused as another officer pulled at his sleeve. They walked a short distance from the car. They conversed briefly and the Chief Customs Officer was careful not to look to where Newman's car was waiting with Marler's, parked in the shadows. He returned to the Audi.

'If it was a large consignment we would have found it by now. You are free to proceed.'

Ronstadt started his engine. He lowered his window. The moment he had crossed the border he shouted back, 'You can stick your sole authority.'

He pressed his foot down, increasing speed as he drove onto the autobahn. Behind him three more black Audis followed. In his own Audi, Newman commented while he waited a little longer.

'Four cars. I counted four men in each – that's sixteen. We're outnumbered.'

'That worries you?' Tweed enquired from the back. 'Not at all. We've been outnumbered more heavily before. Time to go.'

The officer waved them through. He even saluted them. Then they were on the wide autobahn. It had two lanes in both directions, separated by a metal crash barrier and hedges. They drove on through the night and there was no other traffic as Newman held back from the convoy ahead. He drove so he could always see the red lights of the rear-most vehicle. Paula was shielding a pocket torch as she examined an ADAC map she had purchased of the Schwarzwald area.

'We turn off at junction 63 to get to Freiburg,' she called out. 'It's quite a distance yet.'

'We'll get there.'

In Ronstadt's car Leo Madison, the man who had murdered Juliette Leroy in St Ursanne, sat beside Ronstadt. He kept looking back down the autobahn behind them. He was trying to decide if it was wise to speak. He decided it was.

'Every time we go round a big curve I see two white cars behind us.'

'So?'

'When you speed up, they speed up. When you go slower, they do.'

'So?'

'Reckon it could be Tweed and his mob. I've heard German drivers love overtaking.'

'That worries you, Moonhead?'

'The name is Leo Madison. They may tail us to where we're goin' and that could be a problem.'

'Moonhead, I expected Tweed to follow us. What do you think that crap at the checkpoint was about? Holdin' us up so Tweed could get there. A little idea of that nutter Police Chief Beck. I'm happy if that is Tweed behind us. Wait our opportunity and wipe out Tweed and his boys off the face of the earth. Any more comments floating round in that thing you call a brain?'

'Nothin' I can think of, Chief.'

'Well, we're comin' up to junction 66. That's where Vernon peels off up the slip road, collects the weapons, brings them back to us. We wait.'

A few minutes later he slowed, lowered his window, reached out an arm and made a circling gesture. He continued to slow down and then parked at the side of the autobahn, which was illegal.

Tweed had taken from his pocket a pair of night glasses. He was focusing them on the lead car of the convoy of black Audis as they swept round a curve. He grunted.

'They're slowing down a lot. More than they have previously.'

'They're testing,' Newman suggested. 'To see if we do the same thing, which we have to. Maybe Ronstadt suspects we're following him.'

'I'm sure he does,' Tweed replied. 'At least I hope so. I want to keep up the pressure on him. Keith, you saw him when you went into the Zurcher Kredit Bank. What was your impression of him?'

'Very confident, quite dynamic, impatient and with a short fuse.'

'Which is the picture I got of him when he came over to see Paula and me when we were dining at Santorini's. That short fuse may blow – when it does he's liable to make a mistake. And now the whole convoy has stopped.'

'So I'll park here until we see what they're up to,' Newman remarked. 'Except it's totally illegal and we'll be caught if a patrol car comes along.'

'If it does,' Tweed assured him, 'I'll ask them to use their radio transmitter to put me through to Otto Kuhlmann in Wiesbaden. That will stop them searching Marler's car…'

'Marler wouldn't like that,' said Marler at the open windows 'I pulled up and came along to see what's happening.'

'No idea. It's possible they may be picking up some weapons. They wouldn't risk carrying them through the checkpoint.'

'Then now is the time to take them,' Marler urged.

'It is not. We shoot down unarmed men – with diplomatic passports – and we haven't a leg to stand on. Even Kuhlmann would have to arrest us.' Tweed had pressed his night glasses to his eyes after removing his spectacles as he spoke. 'The second car is moving off by itself. What's up there?'

'From my map,' said Paula, 'I'm pretty sure they're stopped just before junction 66.'

'I think you're right. The second car has disappeared up a slip road. Yes, that must be it, they're collecting a load of weapons. We'll just sit it out here until they make their next move.'

'Meantime,' Marler said, 'I'll hand you back your ironmongery.'

He gave Newman his Smith amp; Wesson, his holster and ammo. Then he returned to Paula her Browning and ammo. Diving his hand inside the canvas holdall slung over his shoulder, he produced two stun grenades, passed them to Newman. Taking out another grenade, he extended it to Paula.

''I don't think I need that.'

'Take it. They're not Pekinese waiting a bit further up the autobahn. They're the most cold-blooded and professional killers we have met so far. That's better.'

He looked at Keith Kent. The money tracer was sitting relaxed as though half asleep.

'I think, Keith, you should have a Walther automatic.' 'Thank you. It's a little while since I used one of these.'

'We'd better keep you locked up safely in a cupboard somewhere, then,' Marley commented before returning to his car.

'While we're waiting,' Tweed said, 'you may be interested to hear that Sharon checked out of the hotel an hour before we left. She drove off in a Mercedes.'

'She must have made up her mind quickly to go on to Freiburg,' Paula remarked.

'She must indeed. I found that out at the last moment when I paid the bill at the Three Kings. I also heard from the receptionist that Ed Osborne also had checked out and taken off in his own car.'

'Again to Freiburg, I imagine,' said Paula. 'That town is going to be rather crowded. I meant to ask you earlier: any word from Monica about the identity of Charlie?'

'Monica did call me. Very 'discreetly. In words no one except me would understand she did inform me that so far she has found no trace of anyone called Charlie. She's still digging.'

Five minutes later Tweed was again gazing through his night glasses. Paula had closed the window to stop any more of the night air freezing them. Newman had kept the engine on, so the heating was beginning to warm up the interior again. Tweed lowered his glasses.

"That second car which drove off up the slip road has appeared again. All four men got out carrying suitcases. They deposited two cases in the first car and then one in each of the last two cars. They must have an armoury now.'

`So Marler was right to hand out grenades,' Newman said. 'And they're on the move again.'

He waited a short time, then drove on with Marler following behind him. Paula started checking her map again. Ahead of them the autobahn stretched away into the distance. A moon had risen, casting a milky glow over the empty countryside on either side. They had passed junction 65 when Newman reduced speed. Paula looked up, saw a faint covering of snow on the autobahn. The convoy in front of them slowed seconds later.

'Here and there are patches of ice under this snow,' Newman explained.

'I wouldn't want to skid at the speed you were going,' Paula remarked.

'It would be all right if there was ice all the way,' Newman told her. 'Then I'd know how to handle it. But they are random patches. You hit them without warning. Ronstadt has obviously come to the same conclusion. I will give him one thing – he's an expert driver.'

'He probably started out his career driving getaway cars in the States,' interjected Keith for the first time.

'Just the type,' Newman agreed. 'Then worked his way up over a pile of bodies.'

They drove on and on through the night. The black Audi convoy had slowed down. Newman guessed Ronstadt was no keener on racing across ice patches than he ' was. The moon was now illuminating the light covering of snow on the fields stretching away. In the rear of the car Paula was once more studying her map.

'We're just about to pass junction 65. Then it's a longish run to junction 64. When we eventually reach 63 we can drive straight into Freiburg.'

'Can I look at that map?' Tweed asked her.

Using the torch, he examined the map. carefully. He was relying partly on his memory, but the Germans might well have changed the road layout since his previous visit. Holding on to the map, he called out to Newman.

'When we've passed junction 65, could you pull up? I need to have a brief word with Marler.'

'Will do…'

'We have just passed junction 65,' Paula reported a few minutes later.

'I know.'

Newman reduced speed, then pulled over and parked. Marler had stopped close behind them. Without being summoned he appeared at the window which Tweed had lowered. He smiled as he leant inside.

'So far, so good. What's the next move?'

'Look at this map.' Tweed used the torch so Marler could see clearly. 'If Ronstadt turns off at junction 63, which I think he will, we're then on route 31 leading direct to Freiburg. But here, close to the city, the road splits. Right fork leads to the Munster – close to the Schwarzwalder Hof where we have rooms booked. Left fork will take us in close to the Colombi, where we also have rooms booked. I just have a feeling that several of the cars behind Ronstadt will peel off, taking the right fork. If that happens Paula will flash her torch three times through the rear window. That means you leave us; take the right fork, follow any cars which do peel off. Wait till the occupants have booked in at the Schwarzwalder Hof, then book in yourselves.'

'Clear enough,' replied Marler. 'What are you going to do?'

'Follow Ronstadt – if he does take the left fork. You can always communicate with me at the Colombi in that eventuality.'

'I'll get back to my car.'

'And I'd better get Moving,' Newman said as Tweed closed his window. 'There's continuous ice now under this snow, so hold on to your seat belts. I have to catch them up.'

Once moving, he increased speed. Now and then he could feel thinner ice crunching on his wheels. He kept up his speed. Paula was tense. Tweed, having given his instructions, leant back and closed his eyes for a brief nap. There was only one moment, as they charged forward, when the car began to skid. Newman went with the skid, hands relaxed on the wheel. He came close to the steel barrier, then straightened up, slowed.

'That's fortunate,' he remarked, 'I can see their red lights. Relax, everybody…'

'We're very close to junction 64,' Paula reported a while later.

'Coming up now,' Newman replied. 'There, we've passed it,' he said a few minutes later. 'So we're now heading for the vital junction 63.'

'Which isn't too far ahead,' Paula warned.

'The decisive moment,' said Tweed, who had opened his eyes.

'Be funny if Ronstadt just keeps on and on,' Newman reflected. 'We'd find ourselves heading for Mannheim.'

'Then I'd be lost,' Tweed admitted. 'All my thinking in ruins.'

'The junction beyond – 62 – also leads to Freiburg,' Paula said optimistically.

She sensed that the tension engendered by doubt was present in the car now. Newman had tightened his grip on the wheel. When she glanced back Keith Kent was leaning forward, staring ahead. Tweed, on the other hand, appeared to be the soul of relaxation, leaning back against his seat, his eyes half-closed.

'I daren't get any closer,' Newman said. 'They'd be sure we are following them.'

It was a pointless remark. Paula realized that, unusually, Newman had felt he had to say something. 'They will be sure by now,' Tweed said quietly. 'Junction 63 is coming up,' Paula said quietly.

'I can read the signs,' Newman snapped back at her. A gloomy silence descended inside the car. No one spoke another word. They were staring ahead.