The Power (41 page)

The Englishwoman wore denims, a padded windcheater
and a knitted blue woollen cap. Her titian hair cascaded
down her back. She gave Paula a warm smile, invited her
inside, took her into the living room.

'I was just going shopping. Hateful task but it has to be
done. Just before I left a Swiss woman friend called on the
phone. She's nice but once she gets talking her mouth is
glued to the phone. Goes on and on. Would you like some
coffee? It's bitterly cold out there.'

'No, thank you just the same. Am I throwing your whole
schedule out of gear? I tried to phone but the line was
engaged,' she lied to cover up what might appear to be lack
of manners.

'Not at all.' Eve pulled off her woollen cap, took her
guest's coat, laid it neatly over a chair and sat down facing
Paula. 'It's a relief for me to talk to someone English. The shopping can damn well wait.'

Tweed is still trying to find out who committed those terrible murders - the ones at Tresillian Manor and now Helen Frey. We went to see her yesterday.'

'What happened to her was horrific. I read about it in
the paper. What was she like? I am still wondering what
Julius saw in her.'

'I thought she was rather ordinary,' Paula said tact
fully. 'You mentioned to Tweed you knew Cornwall. He
wondered what part of it you come from?'

'Launceston, just beyond where Bodmin Moor ends.
That's how I know Gaunt.'

'And he came all this way to tell you about Julius? A
nice gesture. Tweed is intrigued by Gaunt.'

'I don't wonder. He has such a strong personality. No, he didn't come just for that. He has business interests in
Zurich. Don't ask me what they are. I'm hopeless when
it comes to money. That's why the fact that Walter now
controls the bank is a worry. What money I have is in that bank.'

'Walter is still in Zurich?'

Eve produced her ivory holder, inserted a cigarette, lit it. She waved the holder.

'I imagine so. Haven't heard a word from him, let
alone seen him. Strange man.'

So she didn't realize Walter was now in Basle, Paula
thought. He obviously doesn't let his sister-in-law know
a thing.

'Lucky - from your point of view - that you didn't
think of going to Cornwall with Julius,' Paula suggested.

'I can't make up my mind about that. He might still be
alive if I'd gone.'

'I think that's highly unlikely - considering what took
place.
I
was there - and only escaped with my life by
pure chance.'

'Frightening,' Eve said. 'You lead a charmed life. I
expect I shall go back to Launceston when this is all over.'

'They didn't try to get you back to attend to the
funeral arrangements?'

Eve took a deep drag oh her cigarette, blew out smoke.
Again she brandished the holder.

'It was all settled by phone. Julius always said if any
thing happened to him he wanted to be buried in Cornwall. He loved the place, hoped to retire there. I suppose in a macabre way he got his wish. I didn't go - it would
have been too upsetting. I'll visit his grave when I do go
back.'

The phone began ringing. Eve made a moue, crossed
the room with brisk steps. She picked up the phone, her
back to Paula.

'Yes, who is it?'

She listened, then replied, her voice high-pitched.

'Not now. It's not convenient. I'll get back to you this afternoon. At least, as soon as I can. Goodbye.'

She waved the holder a third time as she sat down
again. Paula thought she detected a trace of annoyance in
Eve's manner.

'That was Gaunt,' Eve said. 'Wanted to come and see
how I was getting on. Very considerate, but you can have
too much of a good thing.'

'Sorry, I'm not with you.'

'Just between you and me, he's a nice man. But I find
him overbearing at times. Wants to order your life for
you.'

'Where did you first meet him?'

'In Padstow, where I was born. That was when I was
long grown up. Quite a while after I'd left Roedean
School and started to live a normal life. You won't believe
this, but I was Head Girl for a short time - and hated every minute of it. Felt like a fish in an aquarium. I
bought a house outside Launceston when my father died -
I'd had enough of Padstow. The summer, the best time,
was ruined with ghastly trippers.'

'I've taken up a lot of your time. I think I'd better go,
let you get on with that lovely shopping.'

'Excuse my attire. Don't like women who frolic about in
denims. You see a lot of that in Padstow these days. But
they're practical for shopping.'

Paula was standing up to go when she turned round as
Eve prepared to see her to the front door.

'One more thing Tweed wanted to know, if it's not too
personal. He gathered Julius decided on his trip to Bodmin
Moor at short notice. So he must have phoned Gaunt to see
if Tresillian Manor was available for him. It really was very
short notice for Gaunt to clear out to his cottage at Five
Lanes. How did Gaunt react?'

'Said Julius could have the manor for as long as he liked,
that he needed the money.'

She opened the front door and came out into the porch as Paula thanked her. Eve looked at the parked Audi.

'I'm glad to see that. It's just been returned from our service garage after a maintenance check. Something
about the brakes. Arrived just before you did.'

'In time for your shopping. Again, many thanks .. .'

Butler waited until he had turned the black Mercedes in
the road and was heading back for Zurich, before he asked
Paula: 'Did you get what Tweed wanted?'

'No idea. I won't have until I've reported our conversation to him. You never know what he's really after.'

Tweed arrived back in the late afternoon from police headquarters with Newman. He went straight to Paula's
room and Butler left them alone.

'Tell me,' Tweed requested.

Paula began to speak by rote. She spoke with her eyes
closed, seeing and hearing all that had happened from the
moment she had left the car and walked up the drive to Eve
Amberg's villa.

Meticulously, she recalled every detail - the Audi in the
drive, Eve answering the door quickly, dressed to go out
shopping. Her clothes, her manner, every word she had
said. Tweed sat in a chair facing her, recording every word
Paula said.

'That's it,' she eventually told him.

'Word for word?'

'That's what you asked for. That's what you got.'

'What was her mood after she'd taken that phone call?' he asked.

'I told you. Annoyed. Irked. A bit put out.'

'Gaunt. Gaunt. Always Gaunt,' he repeated.

'No point in asking what you're after?' she suggested.

'A link, between Cornwall, Zurich - and Washington.'

'Norton here ...'

President Bradford March lounged in his chair, his feet
clad in sneakers perched on his desk. He wore jeans and an
open-necked shirt exposing the hair on his broad chest. A leather belt encircled his waist in an attempt to hold in his
ample belly.

'Norton here,' the abrasive voice repeated. 'I got the code-word on my answerphone to call you . ..'

'So squat on the butt and listen. The courier with the big
bucks is on his way. He hits Zurich airport tomorrow certain. Aboard Swissair flight SR 805, ETA Zurich
4.25p.m. He takes a cab to Hotel Baur-en-Ville. That
right? Where Mencken is shacked up?'

'I don't want Mencken in on this

'Shut your trap. I said listen. OK? Great. You'll make it
yet. Courier's name is Louis Sheen. Got it? He'll carry a suitcase, brown in colour. When he arrives at this Baur
place 5.30p.m. Zurich time, he goes to reception, tells
them at the top of his voice that he's Louis Sheen, that they
have a reservation, which they won't have. You contact
him immediately with the code-words Lincoln Memorial.
Got that? Then you take him to a safe place, wait for
instructions from the creep who calls me.'

'I'm not showing my face

'Your problem. The creep demanding the dough pho
ned, gave three possible exchange points. Note them - I'll spell them out . . . OK? Something else - Sheen will be
handcuffed to that suitcase. It stays that way until you meet
the bastard who tries to collect. The case has combination locks. Only Sheen knows the numbers which open it. Try
opening that case without operating the combination, a
small thermite bomb inside explodes, burns the contents to
crap.'

'I ought to know that combination,' Norton demanded.

'All those big bucks? You're a joke, Norton. One more
thing - you kill the guy who comes to collect
...'

In Zurich Norton was surprised when the line went
dead. He'd never have thought March could have dreamed
up such a diabolical trap as the thermite bomb.

At the Schweizerhof, after talking to Paula, Tweed was in a
rush to keep his appointment with Jennie Blade. He asked
Newman to phone the Zurcher Kredit to make sure Walter Amberg was still in Basle.

Newman recognized the voice of the girl who answered
the phone. She was the attractive personal assistant who
had shown them into the banker's office.

'Bob Newman here. I was with Mr Tweed when he
called on your boss . . .'

'I remember you well, Mr Newman. How are you? How
can I help?' she enquired.

'Well, I just wanted to check that Mr Amberg is still at
the Basle branch, that he will be there tomorrow.'

'Oh, he will be. He'll be in Basle for several days. You can count on it. And you are the second person within the
hour who has asked that question.'

'Who else did? Or shouldn't I ask?'

'Oh, that's all right, Mr Newman. He didn't leave a
name. I'm new here, don't yet know all the clients. The
man who called had a husky growly voice. Not very polite.'

'A lot of people aren't. I really am very much obliged to
you. Thanks a lot.'

Newman wondered who 'growly voice' could be, made a
mental note to tell Tweed.