This United state

'I didn't tell Marler. I kept it as a secret from everyone. I felt I didn't know who I could trust. I recently hired another top private investigator in Virginia to check out my parents' so-called accident at that lonely bridge. A man called Walt Banker. He's visited that retired sheriff, Jim Briscoe, the man who took me to the site of the tragedy, then was retired quickly. Banker told me Briscoe has changed his story, says it was an accident. Banker was sure he was lying. Somehow he checked his balance at the local bank. Recently he paid in fifty thousand dollars. My investigator said it had to be a bribe paid to Briscoe, which is why he now says it was an accident.'

'Did this Banker go back to see Briscoe to ask him about this big sum of money?'

'Yes, he said he did. Briscoe hit the roof. Said it was a legacy from an uncle. Banker asked for the uncle's name. Briscoe flew into a rage, threw him out. A couple of days later Banker was nearly killed. A car tried to run him down. Banker got the registration number of the car, checked it out.' She paused. 'He found it had been hired. In Washington.'

'Interesting. Very. And what are you going to do now? Go back to the hotel?'

'I'm scared, Bob. What do I tell Sharon? After I left the Three Kings I took a room in a small hotel so I could phone the investigator safely. She'll go stark raving mad if I tell her. I'll be fired and. I'll never get another job. She pays me very well.'

'Why wouldn't you get another job? There must be plenty available in Washington for someone with your experience.'

'Because it will be passed down the grapevine. I'll be blacklisted. That's how it works in Washington.'

'Just exactly how does it work in Washington?' Newman asked.

'Employers at Sharon's top level form a kind of club. They tell each other about their employees. You get blacklisted, and every door is closed to you.'

'Really. And Sharon would blow the whistle on you?' 'I know she would.'

'Then here's what you tell her.' Newman drank more coffee while he worked it out, checking to make sure it was watertight. 'You went out for a walk in the evening – to freshen up for more work. You were followed by a tall thin man with a thin bony face. Can you remember that?'

'Yes, he doesn't sound very nice.'

'He isn't. He exists. Sharon may well have caught sight of him back at the Embassy in London. The tall thin man was very close to you – he wore a black overcoat – when a cruising police car approached. You crossed the street, hurried back to the hotel. You were just going inside when you saw the same man coming towards you from the opposite direction. You rushed up to your room, packed, asked the doorman to bring your car. Then you drove off, stayed for a few hours at the small hotel in Basel, the one where you did stay. When you'd recovered you drove to the Colombi. Have you got that?'

'Every word. I was imagining it happening while you were talking. Sharon may start questioning me. She's like that.'

'Just stick to the same story. Don't embroider. No more details If necessary blow your top, tell her you were scared out of your wits. Tell her you're still thinking of phoning the police in Basel to report the incident.'

'It might work,' Denise said.

'It will work. Now go back to the Colombi on your own. When you arrive ask for Sharon's room number. Find her at once.'

I'm very grateful to you, Bob..

'Just go. Now.'

When he was alone Newman drank more coffee. He decided that he would try and contact Marler. The intense cold hit him when he left the cafe. Walking a short distance, he found a smart-looking men's clothier. Going inside, he bought a German coat, a pair of gloves. Resuming his walk, he passed locals muffled up, treading warily on the slippery pavements. Overhead a low grey bank of cloud pressed down on the city like a lid. He stopped to study a big map of Freiburg, located Konvikstrasse near the Munster.

Threading his way through a network of alleys, he was guided by the looming spire of the Munster. More people were about as he entered Mi'Every word. I was imagining it happening while you were talking. Sharon may start questioning me. She's like that.'

'Just stick to the same story. Don't embroider. No more details If necessary blow your top, tell her you were scared out of your wits. Tell her you're still thinking of phoning the police in Basel to report the incident.'

'It might work,' Denise said.

'It will work. Now go back to the Colombi on your own. When you arrive ask for Sharon's room number. Find her at once.'

I'm very grateful to you, Bob…'

'Just go. Now.'

When he was alone Newman drank more coffee. He decided that he would try and contact Marler. The intense cold hit him when he left the cafe. Walking a short distance, he found a smart-looking men's clothier. Going inside, he bought a German coat, a pair of gloves. Resuming his walk, he passed locals muffled up, treading warily on the slippery pavements. Overhead a low grey bank of cloud pressed down on the city like a lid. He stopped to study a big map of Freiburg, located Konvikstrasse near the Munster.

Threading his way through a network of alleys, he was guided by the looming spire of the Munster. More people were about as he entered Munsterplatz. Hurrying, to get out of the cold, a few bumped into him. Apologizing, they hastened on. Then he saw Marler. Newman stiffened. Locals pushed past Marler, who was walking slowly. Behind him a hatless man in a black coat was only three people away from Marler's back.

Newman himself began hurrying, bumping into people. Then he stopped at the edge of the crowd. Marler had also stopped, glancing over his shoulder. The hatless man in a black coat had turned away, was hustling off towards the edge of the square. Newman saw him enter a narrow alley, stop, then he turned round and waited as though observing Marler.

Newman had had a better look at him in profile. Tall, thin with a hard bony face. It was the man he had described to Denise. Vernon Kolkowski, the man Keith Kent had seen with Ronstadt inside the Zurcher Kredit in Basel. Kent's description fitted perfectly. Newman joined Marler.

'You had company.'

'Mornin' to you, Bob,' Marler drawled. 'And I knew I had company. He's standing in an alley leading to the Schwarzwalder Hof, watching me – while I watch some: thing else.'

'Which is?'

'Look across the square. Three black Audis parked close together. Four of Ronstadt's men getting into one car.'

'They're on the move…'

'Are they? Where are the rest of them? Eight more men – seven, now. I had an argument with one of them early this morning. He won't be arguing with anyone else ever again. There they go, driving off.'

'Did they have luggage?'

'Yes, each man carried a bag.'

'Then we'd better break all records getting to the Colombi so we can warn Tweed. Won't take us long to get there.'

'My idea too!'

In his room at the Colombi Jake Ronstadt was sprawled along an expensively upholstered couch. He had his back against one arm, his body and legs stretched out. He hadn't bothered to take off his boots, which rested on a decorated cushion. His mobile phone had started buzzing

'Yeah?'

'Vernon here. It worked like a dream.'

'Get your head screwed on, Vernon. I do like specifics.'

'Your plan. The guy who went out early this morning – and Bernie follows him – was eating a late breakfast. I sent out four of my guys with bags through the restaurant. The guy leaves the rest of his breakfast, follows my four to their Audi. Another guy – one of them – joins him. They stand in the square, watch the Audi take off, then they move like hell away from the square. Could they be comin' to your place?'

'Of course they are, Brainless.'

'So I tells the six still here to pack and we all move. off with Brad in the Audi that's just left?'

'Brainless, you stay exactly where you are until you hear from me. Are you listenin' with both your thick ears?' Ronstadt snarled.