`You don't like it?'
`I am not going to put up with it. I shall grill Seidler when we find him until I find out what is going on. There is a split between two power blocs on military policy. One group, the Gold Club, believe we should adopt more extreme measures to protect the country against the menace from the East. They even suggest we should organize guerrilla forces – that teams specially trained in sabotage should be positioned outside our borders. Specifically in Bavaria. That is a complete reversal of our policy of neutrality.'
`Beck, I'm not following this. Why should a group of bankers concern themselves with military strategy?'
`Because, my friend, a number of those bank directors are also officers in the Swiss Army. Not regulars. Captains, colonels. They carry a lot of clout inside the Army where the policy dispute is raging. The Gold Club, which advocates total ruthlessness, is beginning to get the upper hand. The whole thing scares me stiff. And these are the people who are trying to stop my investigation into the Berne Clinic..
`You said the killing of Nagy was4he second murder. What was the first?'
Beck walked round his desk, unlocked a drawer and brought out a file. He handed it to Newman. The file had been stamped Classification One on the cover. Newman opened it and read the heading at the top of the first typed page. Case of Hannah Stuart, American citizen. Klinik Bern.
`Who is Hannah Stuart?'
`She was an American patient at the Berne Clinic. She died at the end of last month – as you will see recorded in the file. I have a witness, a farm worker who was cycling home late near the grounds of the Clinic. He states he saw a woman running towards the fence surrounding the grounds, a woman screaming, a woman pursued by dogs…'
`They do have Dobermans prowling the place…'
`I know. That was the night Hannah Stuart died…'
`Haven't you confronted the people at the Clinic with your witness?' Newman asked.
`It would be useless – and would show my hand. The witness has a history of mental instability.' Beck leaned forward and spoke vehemently. 'But he is completely recovered. I personally interviewed him and I am convinced he is telling the truth. He had the sense to come to police headquarters in Berne with his story. Pauli phoned me and I took over the case. That woman was murdered in some way.'
`It says here she died of a heart attack. The death certificate is signed by Dr Waldo Novak…'
`Who is also American. A curious coincidence…'
`What about getting an order for an autopsy?' Newman suggested.
`The body was cremated. And that is where the trouble really started. I had an official from the American Embassy here who complained. Apparently Hannah Stuart was very wealthy – from Philadelphia. Her heirs, a son and his wife, were furious. In her original will she had made the inheritance conditional on her body being buried in Philadelphia…'
`Then how the devil was the Clinic able to get away with cremation?'
`Dr Bruno Kobler, the chief administrator, produced a document signed by Hannah Stuart stating she wished to be cremated. You'll find a photocopy at the end of the file. I had the signature checked by hand-writing experts and they say it's genuine.'
`Which blocked you off. Neat, very neat…'
He broke off as someone knocked on the door. Beck called out come in, a small, myopic-looking man wearing thick glasses and a civilian suit entered. He was carrying a cellophane envelope.
`We have obtained some fingerprints,' the man informed Beck. 'All of them the same person. Probably the deceased's – but we shall only know that when the pathologist has released the body.'
`Thank you, Erich…' Beck waited until the man had gone and then handed the envelope to Newman. 'Inside is the envelope – still sealed – which Moser found inside Nagy's coat pocket…'
Newman extracted the crumpled, cheap white envelope and saw it carried a few words. For M. Robert Newman, Bellevue Palace. He opened it and inside there was a scrap of paper torn from a pad and a key. In the same semi-literate script as the wording on the envelope were written the words M. Newman – Bahnhof. He replaced the contents inside the envelope and slipped it into his wallet.
`It was addressed to you,' Beck said, 'so I gave strict orders it was not to be opened. Don't I get to see it?'
`No. Not until you tell me what you want me to do – and maybe not then.'
`I need someone I can fully trust who has access to the Berne Clinic. I have no reason to go there myself – and I don't want to tip my hand. I have not a shred of evidence – even in the case of Hannah Stuart. Only the gravest suspicions. I need to know exactly what is going on inside that place…'
`I would have thought it was the chemical works at Horgen you needed to investigate. Especially in view of this story about tracing this Seidler…'
`Hannah Stuart died at Thun,' Beck replied sombrely. `Now, that envelope…'
`I work on my own or not at all. I'll keep the envelope for the moment…'
`I have to warn you you are up against men with unlimited power. One more thing. I have found out that the Gold Club people have secretly allocated the enormous sum of two hundred million Swiss francs for Terminal.' He held up a hand. 'Don't ask me how I discovered that fact, but the Americans are not the only ones who go in for what they call creative book-keeping.'
`Who controls that money?' Newman asked.
`Professor Armand Grange. Every franc of it…'
`And Grange is also a part-time member of the Swiss Army – another of those officers you mentioned?'
`At one time, yes. Not any more. You must take great care, Bob. I know you are a lone wolf, but on this one you may need help.'
`Is there anyone powerful enough, any individual, who can stand up to Grange and his fellow-bankers?'
`Only one man I know of. Dr Max Nagel, the Basle banker. He is also on the board of the Bank for International Settlements, so he has world-wide connections. Nagel is the main opponent of the Gold Club…'
`This Manfred Seidler – you are really looking for him?'
`I am trying to find him before the counter-espionage lot get to him. All the cantonal police forces have been alerted. I think that man could be in great danger…'
`From counter-espionage?' There was incredulity in New- man's tone. 'You really mean that?'
`I didn't say exactly that aloud…'
`And this Englishman, Mason, who is checking on Grange. Where does he come in?'
`Frankly I have no idea who he is working for. I am not sure yet who is working for who. But I also believe Mason could be at risk. Remember, we have lost track of Lee Foley, and he is a killer. Never forget, you are walking in a minefield…'
It was nine o'clock at night when Newman reached the luggage locker section at the Bahnhof. He had walked through the silent city from, the Taubenhalde, doubling back through the network of arcades until he was certain no one was following him As-he had guessed, the key from Nagy's envelope fitted the numbered locker which corresponded to the number engraved on the key.
Unlocking the compartment, he stooped to see what was inside. Another envelope. Again addressed to himself at the Bellevue Palace in the scrawly hand-writing which was becoming familiar. Pocketing the envelope, he walked to the station self-service buffet. He was thirsty and famished.
He chose a corner table in the large eating place and sat with his back to the wall. As he devoured the two rolls and swallowed coffee, he watched the passengers who came in through the entrance. No one took any notice of him He took out the envelope and opened it.
M. Newman. I don't know I can last much longer. The first two photos I took outside the Bahnhof. Chief Inspector Tripet (Geneva) told me follow you. That was when I came off the Zurich train. I was beat up inside a lavatory on the train. The thug gave me money and told me follow you. The phone number on the bit of paper you took off me in the alley is the number I had to call to tell them what you was doing. The car number was a Mercedes waiting outside the Bahnhof. The man I think is the thug's boss got into the car. That's the first two photos. The third photo is the same man who got into the Mercedes. I saw him back here in Berne just before dark. Don't know the man he's talking to. I saw the first man by chance near the Bellevue Palace. Which is why I took the photo. These are very tough people M. Newman