‘What am I supposed to have done?’
‘You are under arrest for conspiracy to murder. You’ll be formally charged by the Swiss police.’
Kolchinsky closed the bible and looked up. ‘Murder?’
‘Please don’t concern yourself, Father, it’s a police matter.’
Graham was led from the compartment and the sergeant grabbed his arm as they reached the steps leading from the coach and ordered two of his men to clear a path through the curious onlookers who had gathered around the train after seeing the arrival of the police car minutes earlier. As they neared the patrol car the crowd to their right parted to allow a white Alfa Romeo through. It drew to a halt a few feet from the car. The driver climbed out and crossed to where Graham and the sergeant were standing. The sergeant snapped to attention.
The man drew the sergeant aside and spoke softly to him. The sergeant handed him a key.
The man approached Graham. ‘Mr Green, I’m Lieutenant De Sika, Milan CID. I’m afraid there’s been a case of mistaken identity.’ He unlocked the handcuffs. ‘I can only offer you my sincerest apologies for what’s happened. The men involved will be dealt with accordingly.’ He handed Graham his passport. ‘Again I can only say how sorry I am for what’s happened. You have my name if you wish to take the matter further.’
The crowd thinned out as soon as the two cars were out of sight but a few lingering onlookers hovered around Graham, muttering amongst themselves. Graham finally walked back to the train and boarded it.
‘What the hell was all that about?’ he asked on returning to the compartment.
Kolchinsky retrieved the Beretta and holster from the bag and handed them to him. ‘I’d say Commissioner Kuhlmann’s just conceded.’
They turned to the window as the train shuddered into life and consequently neither of them saw Werner pass the door. When he reached his own compartment in the next coach he found the door was locked and the curtains drawn across the window. He rapped angrily on the glass. An unseen hand twitched the curtains and a moment later the door slid open.
Hendrique was sitting on one of the couchettes methodically cleaning the components of his Desert Eagle automatic with a strip of cloth. Kyle hovered uncertainly beside Werner.
‘Do I now need permission to enter my own compartment?’ Werner snapped.
‘Eddie, leave us. I’ll talk to you later,’ Hendrique said without looking up.
Werner relocked the door after Kyle’s hasty departure, then sat down opposite Hendrique.
‘Since when is my compartment the meeting ground for you and your henchman?’
‘It’s not,’ Hendrique replied, then picked up the return spring and began carefully, almost lovingly, to clean each coil in turn. ‘Eddie merely came here to ask if I’d seen what happened on the platform.’
‘And did you?’
‘No.’
‘Too busy cleaning your gun I suppose?’
‘Too busy talking to Benin on the phone,’ Hendrique replied.
‘What did General Benin have to say?’
‘His backroom boys have finally identified our two friends. Blue eyes is ex-Delta, name’s Mike Graham. Her surname’s Carver, not Cassidy.’
Werner snapped his fingers. ‘Of course, Sabrina Carver. Her father was a former American ambassador. George Carver.’
‘And the one in Mainz is using his own name. Whitlock. They work as a team, for UNACO.’
‘UNACO? I thought that was nothing more than a myth.’
‘So they would have the world believe. It seems they go to extraordinary lengths to cover their tracks.’
‘So how did General Benin find out?’
Hendrique smiled coldly. ‘Directorate S always finds out what it wants to know.’
‘What happens now?’
‘We carry on as before. We’ve already rid ourselves of the girl. Whitlock will be dealt with in Mainz, which only leaves Graham. I’ve already got something in mind for him.’
Werner watched as Hendrique began to reassemble the Desert Eagle, piece by piece.
‘Killing him will only bring the authorities.’
‘Who said anything about killing him? We fit him up, like the girl.’
‘You heard what happened back at the station. That was no case of mistaken identity, the orders for Graham’s release must have come from the very top. The police are going to steer well clear of him from now on.’
‘If he stays within the confines of the law. Why do you think it was so easy to fit up the Carver girl? She broke the law and UNACO can’t release her without blowing its own cover. We can exploit their predicament further, only this time we use an innocent victim. An Italian. That’s sure to stir up enough resentment across the country. The authorities would have to indict him for murder.’
‘And what’s to stop UNACO from sending out more agents?’
‘Nothing, but Graham’s our immediate concern. As my instructor at Balashikha used to say, “You only have to be one step ahead to win the race.” Getting Graham off our backs will put us several steps ahead. By the time more agents have been briefed and despatched out here we’ll be long gone.’
‘And what happens if this plan of yours should fail?’
‘Then you might have to play your trump card,’ Hendrique answered and glanced up at the attaché case on the overhead rack above Werner, its handle manacled to the hollow steel pipe running the length of the wall.
Werner swallowed nervously.
‘Having second thoughts?’ Hendrique asked sarcastically.
‘I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure the success of this operation,’ Werner replied vehemently.
‘A man prepared to die for his beliefs. What a touching, but futile, gesture.’
‘And what would you be prepared to die for? Money?’
Hendrique pushed the magazine into the automatic. ‘Money’s an incentive to live. The higher the stakes, the higher the incentive to live. What good’s money, or beliefs for that matter, to a dead man?’
‘My company’s worth in excess of four hundred million pounds worldwide. Do you think all that money gives me more of an incentive to live? My life’s motivated by purpose and direction. Marxism gives me that motivation.’
Hendrique stood up and slipped the automatic into his shoulder holster. ‘With that kind of prophecy it’s easy to see why you’re Benin’s blue-eyed boy.’
‘How are you going to frame Graham?’
‘I’m going to kill two birds with one stone. I’ll fill you in on the details later. Right now I want you to go and sit somewhere public. The dining car, bar lounge, observation car. It doesn’t matter where, just as long as you’re seen.’
‘What for?’
‘An alibi. There mustn’t be any chance of you being linked to the murder.’
Hendrique waited until Werner had left before going in search of the conductor. He found him in a cramped, untidy cabin situated in the rear of the coach. He declined the offer of coffee and was glad he had done so when the conductor poured some into his own chipped mug. It looked more like molasses. The conductor listened to Hendrique’s plan and initially refused even to consider it, but his attitude miraculously changed the moment Hendrique took a roll of banknotes from his jacket pocket. He peeled off five 50,000-lire notes and the conductor suggested a couple of changes to the plan which he felt would make it run more smoothly.
Hendrique listened silently, glad of the conductor’s knowledge of the train’s layout. They ran through the revised plan, then Hendrique handed the notes to the conductor, who stuffed them into his tunic pocket. Hendrique watched him leave. He picked up a dog-eared copy of an Italian magazine from the floor and began to leaf through it. The centrespread model reminded him of his wife.