This United state

'Don't wish to seem inhospitable,' he said, 'but I want to get on with this. Monica told me you were at the Three Kings. I'll come and see you there. Have a quiet stay.'

'I suspect,' Tweed told him, 'it will be anything but quiet.'

'Better watch my back, then.'

'And your front,' warned Newman, who had joined them. 'I'll drive one of the cars if you, Tweed, will take the other with Paula. Do we officially know each other at the hotel?'

'No point in pretending we don't – not with Sharon and Denise staying there.'

It took them only about fifteen minutes to reach their hotel. The first part of the journey was through open flat countryside, coated white. Then they started to enter the ancient city.

'I love this place,' Paula said. 'It's so very old. And it has narrow winding streets and alleys. And if I remember rightly, secret squares surrounded by massive buildings ages old.'

'You remember rightly,' Tweed agreed, behind the wheel.

Old stone buildings loomed on either side as they drew near the Three Kings. On her left Paula caught glimpses of the Rhine at the end of short side streets. They parked in front of the. hotel as Newman pulled up behind them. Tweed asked the doorman to have the cars parked as nearby as possible.

The first person he met as he entered was Sharon Mandeville.

'Are you following me?' Sharon asked with a smile.

'Hardly, since I thought you were still in London,' Tweed lied. 'I could hardly have hoped for such a pleasant surprise.'

'Wow!' said Newman. 'Great to see you again so soon.' He kissed her on the cheek. 'What brings you to Basel?'

'I have Swiss friends who invited me over. I grabbed at the chance to get away from the Embassy. I don't like some of the people there.'

'I'm forgetting my manners,' Tweed interjected. 'Sharon, this is Paula, my assistant. Paula, meet Sharon.'

'Hi there.' Sharon shook hands with Paula, smiling warmly. 'You have a wonderful boss to work for.'

'I think so,' replied Paula in a neutral tone.

'I'd better leave the three of you to register, get settled in your rooms. Maybe we could all have a drink before lunch. Oh, why did you say you were here, Tweed?'

'I didn't. I'm investigating the disappearance of one of my staff. The last I heard from him was when he called me from Basel.'

'Don't forget my offer for us to have a drink together…'

Newman had been studying her. As usual she was expensively and tastefully dressed. She wore a red two- piece suit with a Chanel scarf round her neck. She turned back as she was walking away.

'Isn't the weather hideous? I hear several roads in Germany are closed to traffic. Wrap up well if you go out.'

While Tweed was registering, Paula looked round the comfortable and spacious lobby, which she remembered. Towards the far end small tables were scattered and close to them were cosy armchairs and couches. The atmosphere was of quiet but not ostentatious luxury. The porter had taken their bags and they travelled up together in the small lift.

'I'm on the first floor,' Tweed said as the lift stopped. 'Bob and I have rooms on the second floor,' Paula said. 'I did hear your room number.'

'Come and see me later…'

Tweed had a large, well-appointed room which overlooked the Rhine. He unpacked first, using one cupboard and only a few drawers. It made repacking easier. Then he wandered over to the window. A few minutes later he heard a tapping on his door. Opening it, he let Paula into his room, returned to the window.

'Both Bob and I have rooms looking down on the river. I'd forgotten how wide it is, even at Basel, hundreds of miles from where it flows into the sea.'

She became aware he wasn't listening. Tweed was staring fixedly at an immense barge gliding upstream on his side of the river. He remembered that traffic on the Rhine had to use this side of the river when moving upstream, the far side when it was on its way downriver. The barge was so huge it seemed to take a minute to pass the window before passing under the arch of a big bridge to their right. At the stern a small car was parked.

'You're thinking about something,' she said.

'Just fascinated by the river. It's started to snow again – I suggest we stay inside the hotel, at least until Marler gets here from Geneva.'

'Suits me. I'm tired. I seem to have been on the go non-stop recently. Do you mind if I have a bath and then take a nap?'

'I think you should. Oh, what did you think of Sharon?'

'On the surface she's elegant, reserved but amiable.' 'On the surface?'

'She struck me as being an enigma. Hard to sum up.'

The phone rang. Paula stayed by the window as Tweed went to answer it. He spoke in a very quiet voice and Paula made no attempt to listen. When he put the phone down she made for the door, deliberately not asking who had called.

'That was Arthur Beck, Chief of the Federal Police, as you know.'

'I've always liked Beck. And you call him the most able police chief in Western Europe.'

'He sounded grim. He's flying here to see me from his headquarters in Berne. He ordered me not to leave the hotel until he's arrived. He's never done that before.'

'You did say you might be walking into an inferno. I thought at the time you were exaggerating.'

'Maybe I was underestimating the danger.'

'How on earth did Beck trace us here so quickly?'

'He phoned Monica. Normally she wouldn't have told even him where I was. I'm going to ask him how he persuaded her. And it will be a few hours before he gets here.'

'Then I'm off to have my bath and some catch-up sleep.'

'Paula, under no circumstances are you to leave the hotel. That is an order.'

Newman, in cheerful mood, arrived soon after Paula had left. He followed Tweed over to the window. The first barge, which Paula had watched with Tweed, had been a bulk carrier. The new monster they stared down at was a tanker. Newman whistled.

'That's a huge job to travel as far as this up the Rhine. I asked the receptionist how far up they can go. Apparently there's a harbour where they dock on the outskirts of Basel, which is as far as they can go.'

'There's also another harbour further down to the left of us. That's where three countries meet – Switzerland, Germany and France. Better sit down. I've something to tell you.'

Newman listened while Tweed gave him the gist of the phone call from Beck. He whistled again. When he glanced at Tweed he thought his chief had never looked more serious. Tweed stifled a yawn, flexed his fingers.

'He didn't give you any hint as to what it was all about?' Newman asked.

'Not a dickey bird. I can't imagine what can have stirred up Beck to the extent of his flying from Berne to see me. On top of that he ordered me not to leave the hotel. Which reminds me. You're not to leave this hotel until we've heard what has so disturbed Beck. That is my order.'

'I'd better tell Paula…'

'I've already told her. Best to leave her alone. She's having a bath and then some sleep. I wouldn't mind some myself.'

'Oh, I have some news. Denise Chatel is staying here too. I was out of sight when I saw two people coming out of the lift.'

'Marler told us she'd be here – along with Sharon. Have you been downstairs, chatting up the cool Sharon?'

'No. I asked at the reception desk. She'd told them she was going out to meet some friends. The Swiss people she mentioned, I expect. She should be warm enough, When we dined together at Santorini's she had a sable coat.'

'Well, she can afford it, so why not?'

Newman had experienced this mood of Tweed's before, when he appeared to be taking in everything said to him and made replies which seemed to confirm this impression. But Newman sensed that Tweed's brain was racing, checking over in his mind what had happened, linking up sequences of events, forming a pattern.

This was waiting time. Waiting for Marler to appear. Waiting for Beck to arrive. And normally, the lull before the storm broke. He realized Tweed had heard every word he had said when he asked his question.