Deadlock

'I can't just leave my car here…'

'You can't hang around. I thought you said the bank would stay open to accept your bearer bonds.'

'It will

'Not all night. Takes ages to get a pick-up truck. By the time you get back to Geneva the bank will have given up -closed its doors.'

Blanc was in a dilemma. He didn't want to leave the car; even less did he want to carry around a million francs in negotiable bonds. If his pocket was picked anyone could cash the bonds in any bank in the world.

'I can't wait much longer,' Klein pressed. 'Do you want a lift or don't you?'

'Who at Montres Ribaud might have seen you making the timers?' Klein asked as he drove back to Vevey through growing dusk.

'Absolutely no one…'

'Why so confident?'

'Because I always worked on them late into the night. The building was empty.'

'But surely that is unusual? Someone belonging to the firm might have seen a light in your office if they passed it?'

'They would think nothing of it,' Blanc insisted. 'Often I work late for the company's work. You can concentrate – no interruptions from staff or phone calls. When do I get the balance of my fee?'

'Now.'

Klein drove with one hand on the wheel. The other slipped inside his pocket, took out a bulky envelope which he gave the Swiss. He watched with amusement as Blanc produced a pencil torch and closely examined the bearer bond for half a million francs.

'Satisfied?'

'I will be when I have deposited it with the bank. Can't you drive any faster?'

'Not in this treacherous light. Want to end up in hospital and have someone find those bonds?'

Klein was watching the dashboard clock without Blanc realizing it. He timed it so they arrived at Vevey station just after a local had left for Geneva. Blanc would have to catch the express coming up from the Valais. In fifteen minutes. Klein had memorized the timetable in his head. He pulled in by the station.

'Haven't you forgotten something?' Klein asked.

'Oh, the blueprints I made for the devices. I was worrying about my car. Here they are. Now, I must catch my train…'

'The express isn't due yet. Wait a minute.'

Klein opened the envelope, took out the folded contents. Two blueprints. He borrowed Blanc's pencil torch to check them, then handed it back.

'Satisfied?' enquired Blanc, mimicking Klein's earlier query.

There was a hint of smugness in his tone which made Klein look at him quickly. Then he guessed the Swiss had been playing a little game with him. For the first time he misunderstood the plump little man. Blanc reached for the door handle.

Two more things,' Klein said. 'I may have a similar job for you later,' he lied. 'Another million francs…'

'I'd have to think about it.'

'A million and a quarter.'

'Get in touch when you're ready. There was something else?'

'Yes. Travel first-class to Geneva. Remember what you have in your pocket. It will be safer. Train travel can be dangerous.'

'You are probably right. Good night…'

It was a relief for Blanc when he boarded the express. He had worried in case Klein suggested driving him back to Geneva. This was the last thing Klein thought of as he drove the Mercedes into a parking lot near the station.

Unlocking the boot, he took out a large hold-all bag, relocked the car and walked into the hotel facing the station. The toilets led off from the public restaurant. Keeping an eye on his watch, Klein worked quickly. He was just in time to buy a first-class ticket to Geneva as the express came in. He watched Blanc board a first-class coach and ran to board the train himself moments before it departed.

Blanc sat in the non-smoking section – divided off from the smoking area by a door with a window in the upper half. The express had left Lausanne. The next stop, Geneva, was about twenty minutes away when Klein saw what he had hoped for.

The Swiss was the only passenger in his part of the coach – as was the case with Klein. Blanc, suffering from nervous reaction to his recent experience, stood up and made for the lavatory. It was situated in the exit, between his coach and the next one.

Inside the toilet, Blanc relieved himself and at once felt the tension draining out of his system as he washed his hands. He used a tissue to clean his glasses. He wasn't at all sure he would ever accept another commission from Klein.

What really worried him was that Klein seemed to know everything about his most intimate life – whereas Blanc knew nothing about Klein. Where he came from. His nationality. What he was up to. It was not the way Blanc usually undertook his 'freelance' assignments. The trouble was the million francs had proved too tempting.

At least I've got them, he thought as he straightened his tie, checked his watch. Not long before he arrived in Geneva. He would take a cab to the bank. Safer. Klein had been right on that point. He opened the door and froze.

It took him a few seconds to recognize the man in the waterproof hat who stood apparently waiting to use the lavatory. He also wore a long dark blue waterproof coat which came to below his knees and was buttoned to the neck. Klein…

'You! What is this?'

'Keep your voice down. Something has gone wrong…'

Klein eased himself inside the toilet before Blanc recovered from his shock and re-locked the door. He was carrying the large hold-all bag and spoke again rapidly.

There is something wrong with one of those bearer bonds. I have to come to the bank with you – so I can countersign it.'

'Why? A bearer bond doesn't need…'

As he spoke he reached a hand inside his breast pocket for the two envelopes. Klein glanced down, swore, remarked that his shoe-lace was undone. Dropping the bag, he bent down to attend to it. He stood up again suddenly. His right hand gripped the knife he had plucked from the sheath strapped to his leg. His left hand pushed back Blanc's jaw, exposing the throat. With one swift movement Klein slit it from ear to ear. A second hideous red mouth appeared below Blanc's chin.

Blood spurted, gushed, splashing Klein's coat. Blanc uttered a brief moan-gurgle and sagged back on the lid of the toilet seat. Klein wiped the knife on Blanc's suit, shoved it back inside the sheath. Blanc's head had slumped sideways, his eyes wide open behind the gold-rimmed spectacles which hung askew. He looked almost ridiculous, except for the growing lake of dark red spreading down his shirt front.

Klein reached inside his pocket with his gloved hand, took out the envelopes. No point in throwing away a million francs. He checked his watch. Four minutes to Geneva's Cornavin station – where the train ended its journey. He examined himself in the mirror. Only the coat was stained.

Stripping off the coat, he folded it inside out, extracted a plastic bag from a local department store from the hold-all. There was a spot of blood on his right glove. He dropped both gloves inside the plastic bag which was already weighted with stones.

He slipped the screwed-up plastic bag inside his jacket pocket. Next he put the folded coat inside the hold-all and zipped up the bag. The train was slowing down. Too late for anyone to be waiting to use the lavatory. He counted off precisely two minutes on his watch after the train had stopped. All passengers would have disembarked.

Taking a small leather pouch from his other jacket pocket, he selected a tool like a small screwdriver. Picking up the hold-all, he opened the door, peered out. Not a sound. Emerging into the deserted exit area, he glanced in both directions and fiddled with the closed door, sliding the notice to Occupe. He was the last passenger to leave the express as he strolled towards the exit hall.

The next job was to get rid of the hold-all, the blood-spattered coat which had protected his suit. The coat had been bought in Harrods, London, over a year before. Untraceable, And several sizes too large. Its eventual discovery would give the police no idea of his true measurements.