'Harry Butler is outside. Ask him to come in,' he told the officer.
'I found Klein, I'm sure,' Butler announced as he sagged into a chair. Then I lost him,' he said in a tone of disgust.
'Where?' rapped out Tweed with a burst of fresh energy.
'Here in Brussels…'
He described his recent experiences, starting with following Peter Brand to the Hotel Cravat in Luxembourg, his decision to track the stooped man with glasses and a pipe, ending with his losing Klein at the Sheraton.
'Is he still booked in at the Sheraton?' Tweed asked.
'Officially yes, for two more days. I don't think he will come back. The room is paid in advance. But I chatted up one of the girl receptionists and she saw him leave with his bag. That was while I was calling London, trying to contact you. I mucked it up.'
'I don't think so,' Tweed disagreed. 'You are sure it was Klein despite his changed appearance?'
'Bet my pension on it.'
Tweed looked round the room. 'We do have definite evidence on several points. Colonel Ralston confirmed Klein visited Brand several times. Brand, therefore, is the banker for the coming operation. Now we have Klein placed in this city. At long last we've tracked him, we're close…'
'And the target?' Newman queried.
'I'll call London. I may be able to answer that question after talking with Park Crescent.'
The air of tension, added to by fatigue, grew in the room while Tweed made his call. Benoit, normally calm and jovial, tapped his desk with the fingers of one hand. The news that Klein was in Brussels had shaken him. Newman stirred restlessly in his chair, staring at a wall map of Belgium. Only Butler remained unmoved, waiting the next development.
Tweed's call to Monica was fairly brief. He let her do most of the talking. Near the end of the conversation he asked if she'd any word from Nield in King's Lynn. He put down the receiver.
'I'm reliably informed the target is Antwerp…'
'Oh, my God!' Benoit stiffened.
'But,' Tweed went on, 'I don't believe it. Klein is diabolically clever. When I take a hotel room I prop his Identikit picture where I can see it – rather as I once read Montgomery did with Rommel before Alamein…'
'I hope,' Benoit broke in, 'you're not suggesting we're facing another Alamein?'
'With the huge armoury of explosives at his disposal we could face enormous casualties. The man is ruthless -maybe beyond the point of sanity.'
'Why not Antwerp?' Benoit demanded.
'Because Klein is past master at the art of spreading smoke-screens to conceal his true objective. Looking at his picture, I realize he's bound to know that by now we're aware he's planning something. He's too clever not to realize with the number of men he's recruited someone will have raised the alarm.'
'But your reliable source, as you termed it,' Benoit persisted, 'says it is Antwerp.'
'They think. I'd hoped for a totally positive statement. I haven't got it.' Tweed leaned forward. 'I think Klein is so clever he's probably fooled his own team – just in case someone lets a clue drop.'
'I can't take a chance on that.' Benoit stood up. 'I have to inform the Minister. We have to alert Antwerp, immediately take certain precautions in that great port. You yourself said Klein is in Brussels…' He turned to Butler. 'And I'm convinced you have located Klein.' He shook his head. 'No, gentlemen, I can't risk it. What are you going to do in the meantime? Tonight, I mean.'
'Get a light meal and some sleep,' Tweed replied. 'Fatigue is a bad counsellor and we are all very tired. Also, I want to go back over the whole history of this business with Newman. He said not long ago maybe we know more than we realize we know. That could be the case. Hard thought may give me the clue I'm seeking – to the ultimate target.'
Klein made three phone calls from an outside call box. One to Lara, another to Marler, the third to Hipper. In each case the gist of the calls was the same.
'The conference is now arranged. Please leave immediately for Antwerp. A reservation has been made for you in your name…' A false name was given for each member of the team. 'You stay at this hotel…' A different hotel was allocated for each of them. 'I will contact you there soon after you arrive. Please have meals in your room. Other people have to be contacted re the sales conference.'
It was Klein's sixth sense which caused him to take this lightning decision. Something about Brussels didn't smell right. And the sudden movement would keep everyone occupied and off balance.
Lara would catch a night train. Marler would drive to Antwerp. Hipper and Chabot would also go by car. Klein himself would travel the short distance by night train. He had his case waiting for him in the luggage container at Midi station – although when he'd deposited it he'd had no intention of ordering the speed-up. He gave a sigh of relief as he settled in the otherwise empty first-class compartment as the train left for Antwerp.
Hipper took the phone call in their room at the cafe Manuel as Chabot was leaving. He gestured for the Frenchman to wait. Putting down the phone Hipper began stuffing clothes into his case as he spoke.
'Pack your things. We're leaving at once.'
'Shit!' Chabot was furious. 'And I was going on the town to enjoy myself for the first time in weeks. Where the devil are we going now?'
'Antwerp. Do hurry up.'
'That's the target?' Chabot asked as he began folding his own things neatly. Hipper was a toad, he thought. Messy about everything: couldn't even pack a case decently
'No idea,' Hipper replied. 'Just our next destination.'
Ten minutes later Hipper had paid Manuel an extortionate sum for the room they'd hardly used and, Chabot behind the wheel, they were driving out of Brussels.
Sagged behind his seat belt, Hipper was lost in thought. The sudden decision of Klein had not surprised him. During his last visit to take food to Haber's wife and his son imprisoned in the old mill he had included the usual thermos of coffee.
But this time the strong coffee was rather different. As instructed by Klein, he had laced it with a heavy dose of barbiturates. The two prisoners would sleep well. They would sleep for ever.
Part Three
39
'No news of Nield then?' Butler had asked.
Three men were talking in Tweed's room at a small hotel near Grand'Place Benoit had suggested. Tweed, Newman and Butler. Earlier they'd found a small restaurant, dining off omelettes. None of them had felt he could face a large meal.
Tweed had drunk a lot of coffee which had made him more alert. It was two in the morning. He shook his head at Butler.
'Monica said Nield normally reported in daily by phone. He's bought up a load of books, dumped them in a prominent place at the back of his car. Posing as a publisher's representative. He's watching Blakeney – as you suggested, Harry.'
'You said "normally". Has there been a break in communication?'
'Yes. Nothing for the past twenty-four hours. I expect he has his reasons. Now, Bob, I want you to help me -recall everything that's happened since we started this pursuit of Klein. I have the weird idea we've overlooked something. One missing key is the explosives Klein brought out across the Turkish border – before murdering the Armenian truck driver, Dikoyan, and kindly throwing his corpse into the Bosphorus.'
'But what about Klein?' Butler interjected. 'I should be out looking for him. I lost him…'
'Don't worry about that. Benoit has thrown out a huge dragnet, recalled men off duty, had copies made of the Identikit picture and distributed them. His men are combing every hotel in Brussels – including some sleazy places down in the Marolles district. Benoit will be up all night.