Louise knew that underneath the dipped, neutral manner was concealed a terrible, raging fury. Beau-rain's eyes, always compelling, had an almost hypnotic quality as they watched Marker. The reaction of the Dane took her completely aback.
"And I thought I had bad news. The Syndicate has simply used the necessity for liquidating one of your own people and for that person I express my sincere condolences — to stage another demonstration."
And now a breeze was wafting in from the sea — and the scene of the "Massacre' — the faint whiff of petrol and something extremely unpleasant. Instinctively the trio walked a short distance away from the waterfront. Marker continued: "A demonstration of the immense power and ruthlessness of the Stockholm Syndicate. A demonstration which will yield them at least as much as the murder of the Chief Commissioner of the Common Market."
"If you're just saying that to ease the situation…"
"No, old friend," Marker interjected firmly. "I am not trying to ease the pain that you feel for what you erroneously believe is your fault. I did not tell you earlier because I was still not sure of you that is how insidious and undermining of trust the actions of the Syndicate make all those who are touched by it. But only this morning I received a phone call."
"From a girl?" Louise asked quietly.
"Yes, my dear, as before, from a girl. Again she warned me that sooner or later they would track down where I was hiding my wife and child, that they were already very close. That last bit was, of course, in the hope of scaring me into communicating with them in some way which would be detected by the Syndicate. She closed by saying a fresh demonstration of her organisation's power was imminent — that I would know what she was talking about when I read about the disaster in the world's press tomorrow."
Beaurain thrust both hands into the pockets of his jacket, one of his characteristic stances when he was undergoing deep emotion. "And I presume other people in high places were also phoned the same message?"
"I know they were. Before Miss Hamilton and yourself arrived at my office I had just completed making a number of discreet calls."
"A white cabin-cruiser," Beaurain began in a blank monotone, 'flying the Danish flag when last seen, moving at speed on a southerly course about a mile off the Danish shore in the direction of Copenhagen. We believe we saw Benny Horn aboard. It took off like a bat out of hell almost at the moment of the explosion."
"So," Marker replied, 'by now he will have been put ashore at any of a dozen landing-stages along the coast where a waiting car will have picked him up — unless he has crossed the Sound to Sweden once out of sight of Elsinore. Still, I will put out an alert. Excuse me a moment."
Marker went over to his car parked nearby, took the microphone from inside and leant against the car while he radioed his report. The driver was staring at the crowds of people who had appeared from nowhere and were growing denser as they gazed seaward where futile rescue activity was going on.
"You think it was definitely Benny Horn?" Louise asked after a silence lasting several minutes.
"I think he was probably the instrument. Whether he was the prime mover is another question," he told her abruptly and turned to Marker who had now returned. "Bodel, when you arrived here you said you thought you had bad news as though you were going to tell us something else before the ferry was blown up,"
"It seemed horrific… before this." Marker waved a resigned hand towards the debris out at sea as Beau-rain watched him closely. "I told you I was going to have a word with the inspector who radioed that patrol-car to go to the ferry terminal by the railway station. I found I was just too late. There had been an accident."
"What kind of accident?"
"He received a call purporting to come from his wife. After taking it he left the police station alone by car. They have just dragged the car out of the sea — the inspector was inside it. He was murdered. I know he was murdered because something has also happened to the two Danish railway men you asked me to keep out of circulation for three days. They never reached the police station."
"What happened?" asked Louise. She felt her hair standing on end. Beaurain continued to study his old associate as the Dane went on with his story.
They were in the patrol-car with the policemen. On their way to the station they were flagged down by a man in front of a garage. A woman happened to be watching from about five hundred metres away — fortunately for her. The man who flagged down the car went inside the garage to fetch someone and then there was an almighty explosion. The car just disintegrated — rather like that…" Again the resigned hand made a gesture towards the sea.
In a deceptively detached tone, Beaurain said, "They are killing everyone who has knowledge of the heroin. First the inspector they bought or intimidated. Then the two railway men both of whom must have known the approximate location of the suitcase. That is the Syndicate's method of protecting its investment. Effective, you must admit."
"It's overkill."
"Face it, Marker — the Syndicate runs one of the most efficient killing machines known in history — and each death is exploited to terrorise the maximum number of people who can be of service to the Syndicate in the future. Someone has thought up a foolproof system. Louise and I must go now," he ended coldly.
"I will give you a lift to the railway station."
During the journey Beaurain only spoke once, seated in the back of the car with Louise. She was looking out to sea when he asked for a cigarette: bits of bodies were beginning to float through the harbour entrance and he didn't want her subjected to any more harrowing experiences. During the ride to the railway station Marker relapsed into a sombre silence, staring through the windscreen without seeing anything. Beaurain was relieved when the Dane told his driver to drop them a distance from the station and wait for him. The three of them walked slowly towards where it had all started — the exit from Elsinore railway station.
It's such an attractive town," Louise said. "All the houses old but freshly painted…"
She ended in mid-sentence and Beaurain gave her elbow a reassuring hug. She had been going to add something like, 'for such a ghastly horror to be perpetrated here," Beaurain noticed that both his companions studiously avoided looking to their left over the harbour to the sea beyond. There was also an unnaturally quiet atmosphere among the people walking about who were staring seaward. Probably a number of them were in the habit of crossing over to Sweden from time to time. Using the car-ferries.
"While at the police station I asked about the enquiries I made about Dr. Benny Horn," Marker said in a dull voice. "About his background and history, what he was like when he lived here in Elsinore. I must say they had responded to my request quickly. And they had showed around the photo I had taken of Horn in Copenhagen — I sent that out by despatch rider before I left the city."
"And what did you find?"
"A few people who knew him when he lived here recognised the photo, others didn't."
"What proportion?" There was an eager alertness in Beaurain's voice and manner.
"Fifty-fifty. The normal proportion," Marker replied in the same dull tone. He was, Louise realised, still in a state of semi-shock, overwhelmed by the power and ruthlessness of the Stockholm Syndicate. "Horn lived the same sort of hermit-like existence in Elsinore that he does in Copenhagen," Marker continued. "He was unmarried, had no relatives and spent a lot of time away from the place travelling presumably to sell and buy rare editions,"
"How long had he lived in Elsinore?" Beaurain persisted.
"About twenty years. And he had his place a short distance outside the town in a very quiet area. That's all I could find out." He stopped suddenly on the sidewalk and turned to Beaurain, his brow crinkled in perplexity and frustration. "It doesn't make sense at all, does it?" he burst out.