This United state

'Have you seen Marler this afternoon?'

'Only briefly. I passed him in the hall on my way to my room.'

'Well, I've given you a little break.' He smiled again. 'But I think I'm interrupting your work.'

'I should get on if I'm to get through it.'

'Don't push yourself too hard. I'll leave you to it.'

He was walking back upstairs to his room when he met Marler on his way down. They were alone on the staircase and no one was within hearing distance.

'Marler, I gather you saw Denise briefly after we'd got back from the barge disaster.'

'Briefly is the word. She just said, "Hello, there," and kept on walking to the lift. Struck me she was pretty busy.'

'I'm sure you're right. No luck with cars equipped with snow tyres at this time of day, I imagine.'

'I did get lucky. I phoned the hire people who had cars waiting for us at the airport. They were just closing.

I managed to persuade them to deliver cars with snow tyres – a couple of white Audis. They're in the garage here. They took the other cars back.'

'So we can leave at any time. That might be soon. Good work, Marler.'

Tweed continued on up to his room, thinking. His thoughts disturbed him. Denise had warned Marler about the supposed meeting aboard the Minotaur. Denise had talked to staff inside the hotel since they'd got back from the Rhine. It was obvious their main topic of conversation was the explosion aboard the huge barge. Denise had since met Marler briefly. Yet Denise had made no mention of the barge to Marler – or to himself.

30

At about seven in the evening Paula was wandering around the hotel on her own. She wanted to see what, if anything, was going on.

'There are two hostile elements in this place,' she said to herself. 'Ed Osborne and Denise Chatel. On someone's instructions – maybe Ronstadt's – Denise made up that story about a so-called meeting on the Minotaur to lure us into the trap. When the barge exploded we'd all be killed.'

She had descended from the second floor and started walking down the corridor on the first floor. Suddenly a door further along opened, Denise came out of Tweed's room, turned to say something and closed the door. She walked towards Paula with a blank look. Then she walked straight past her as though. she didn't exist.

'What the hell's going on now?' Paula said to herself. The hotel was strangely quiet and there was no one else about. She continued prowling. Downstairs there was no one in the lobby and the restaurant wasn't open yet. She opened the door to the writing room, peered inside. No one there. She went back upstairs to see Tweed.

For a moment she thought the same scene was being replayed – like a film turned back and then run forward again. The door to Tweed's room opened, Sharon came out, turned to say something, then closed it. She began to walk in her elegant way towards Paula.

'Just the person I was hoping to see,' Sharon greeted her with a warm smile as she stopped. 'I'm organizing a small dinner in the restaurant here this evening. Bob Newman and Tweed have agreed to be my guests. I'd like you to be there.'

'Well…'

'Don't think about it, just say yes.' Sharon smiled more radiantly, her green eyes holding Paula's. 'Take pity on me. One woman and two men doesn't work. I'll be out-gunned. You can give me moral support. Please!'

'I'd love to come. Thank you so much.'

'Eight o'clock. he the main restaurant – not the Brasserie next door to it.'

'I'll be there.'

Paula watched her walk away. Sharon almost glided, her figure erect, the waves of blonde hair just touching the top of her shoulders. Then she was gone. Paula frowned, then remembered a friend who had told her she'd develop creases in her forehead. Turning round, she went to Tweed's door, tapped on it, he called out, 'Come in.'

'It's just me. I was passing so thought I'd see how you were.'

'I'm fine. You know I like to get ready for a meal in good time. A little while ago Sharon phoned me, invited Bob and me to have dinner with her tonight. Here in the hotel, bless her – considering what it's like outside.'

He'd put on his best suit, a blue bird's-eye. Now, seated on a couch, he was bent over, buffing his shoes. He seemed very relaxed.

'I've just bumped into Sharon in the corridor,' she said, perching on the arm of the couch. 'She's invited me to join the dinner party. I accepted.'

'I'm glad. That makes us a foursome. You know something? Apart from Sharon's call a while ago that phone hasn't rung once. Peace and quiet. It seems a novelty.'

'I think I'd better go to my room and get changed. Competing with Sharon takes some doing.'

'Oh, I don't know. You always look so perfectly turned out.'

'Thank you, sir.'

She bent down, kissed him lightly on the cheek, then left as she checked her watch.

She'd had a bath earlier but decided she'd have a quick shower.

They kept it very warm in the hotel. She was on her way to the bathroom when she paused before a large wall mirror. She looked at her dark, glossy hair, her large blue-grey eyes, her thick brows, her well-shaped features, her good complexion.

'I'm a brunette, Sharon is a blonde,' she said aloud. 'What is it about that lady which makes her so striking? I'll study her over dinner. No! Admit it – you're an envious witch.'

There was a knock on the door. When she unlocked it Newman was standing outside. She invited him in with a smile. He had on his best suit and a brand-new tie she hadn't seen before, a Valentino. How was Sharon able to mesmerize such different men?

'I just called in to let you know Sharon has asked

Tweed and me to dinner at the restaurant downstairs.' 'She's just asked me to join the party. I said I would.' 'That's great, really great. I was getting bothered you'd feel left out when you saw us.'

'That was nice of you, Bob. Now you can stop getting bothered.'

'I rather think you'll be changing, so I'm holding you up.'

'That's all right. But I was about to dive into the shower.'

'Then I'll leave you to it.'

'Bob, just before you go. Have you noticed Tweed often seems to know what's going on in the enemy's mind? Calls it his sixth sense.'

'Yes, I have.'

'Well, I think he has an agent inside the American camp.'

Newman headed for the ground floor after he'd left Paula. Unusually for him, he stopped for a moment to check his appearance in a mirror on the corridor wall. It was seeing Windermere's Valentino tie, when they had a drink in the bar, which had caused Newman to dig out his own new tie. He walked downstairs, looked in the lobby, wished he'd stayed in his room. Seated by himself at a table overlooking the river was Rupert Strangeways.

'I say, Newman, do trot over and join me for a drink. A chap gets lonely, don't you know.'

'And what brings you to Basel?' Newman asked as he sat down.

He had been told by Tweed what Sir Guy had said, but he wanted to see whether the stories of father and son tallied. Rupert waved a commanding hand.

'First things first. A waiter chappie is coming. What's your tipple?'

`I'll have a double Scotch, no ice.'

I'm going to need it to get through this, he thought. Rupert, heavily in debt, wore an expensive dark smoking jacket, a pair of dark trousers with a razor-edged crease, a crisp white shirt and a polka-dot bow tie. Newman had always mistrusted men who sported bow ties.

'Mine is a very dry martini, shaken, not stirred,' Rupert ordered with a dry smile. 'I was always a follower of James Bond,' he told Newman when the waiter had gone. 'Poor joke, I know. Maybe I'll sparkle after a few drinks.'

`I think I asked you what brings you to Basel.'

'You most certainly did. Amazing memory you have.' Rupert grinned. 'I'm not being sarcastic. Meant to be a joke. Not doing very well, am I?'