Rhinoceros (52 page)

'It's a narrow beach,' Newman reported, 'but it's made up of pebbles and stones. They could rip the bottom out
before we reach the harbour.'

Harry had found a pair of old rubber boots behind the
hut. He managed to get them on. He got back to the others
in time to hear Newman's remark.

'So,' he told them, 'we carry the boat to the water. I'll
take the stern, one of you takes the port side, the other the
starboard. Do let's get on with it.'

In the blazing heat it was a physical ordeal as the three
men slowly carried the boat with its cargo towards the
water line. When they reached it and the prow was in the
harbour, Newman and Marler, still holding on, moved
further back. The boat was in the water when Harry, in his
boots, kept pushing, then gave it a mighty shove. He nearly
went under as the slope shelved steeply. He stepped back
quickly, joined the others on the shore as they watched.

'Lord,' said Newman, 'it's keeping going, heading for
the far shore. This harbour leads out into the Baltic. There
could be a current keeping it moving.'

It was another nerve-racking experience as the boat drifted steadily across the harbour. Newman took out a
pair of binoculars and scanned the opposite shore. No one was in view in front of the neat little houses but there was
a restaurant with people sitting outside at tables. Luckily a deep blind obscured their view. Not that this would make
any difference if the boat reached the shore.

'Sink, you devil. Sink,' Harry growled.

It must have heard him because at that moment, watch
ing the boat through his binoculars, Newman saw the bottom give way, the sack plunging down out of sight.
With no bottom, the boat began to break up and soon was
no more than shards of driftwood.

'I vote we move off,' said Harry. 'Where has Tweed
got to?'

He looked along the road and the four strollers were quite a distance along it. Paula turned round and Harry
waved frantically for them to come back fast.

The strollers changed partners for the walk back. Tweed
joined Nield while Paula and Lisa
followed a distance behind them. Tweed had diought one advantage of walk
ing away was that Lisa wouldn't see what happened to the body. Despite her outward calm he felt sure it would take
several days for her to get over her hideous experience with
Delgado.

'Lisa,' Paula said quietly, 'there is something I've wanted
to ask you and this is a good opportunity. If you don't
mind.'

'Ask away.'

'When you were badly concussed and in the clinic back
in London you tried to tell us something. You made such
an effort I really admired you. What you said was
Ham
. . . Dan . . . 4S.
We eventually worked out
Ham
meant
Hamburg and
4S
meant the Four Seasons Hotel. But what
did
Dan
mean?'

'I said that? I've got no recollection of this.' Lisa looked
at Paula. 'I can see the Hamburg bit and the hotel. Even
though it's all gone from my memory.'

'Could
Dan
have been Danzer, the chauffeur to one of the partners controlling the Zurcher Kredit Bank?'

'Never heard of Danzer. Chauffeur to which partner? The one with the gold-rimmed spectacles?'

Paula almost missed a step. Lisa had, they thought, no
knowledge at all of the partners. And the only time Paula had seen Milo wear gold-rimmed spectacles was when he had paid the bill at the Fischereihafen restaurant down by
the Elbe docks. She had to say something.

'I don't know which partner he's chauffeur to - Danzer,
I mean. It's a detail.'

But as they walked back all Paula's earlier doubts about
Lisa flooded back into her mind. She was badly shaken.

The Sikorsky helicopter was within half an hour of taking
off from its remote location at Hamburg's airport. All
four VIP passengers were aboard. They were waiting for
permission from the control tower to start their flight. The aircraft was luxuriously equipped with leather armchairs
and the armed guard had brought down the wide aisle a
trolley of every kind of drink imaginable. Gavin Thunder
had asked for a stiff brandy.

He was seated next to the American Secretary of State,
squat and with a high-domed forehead and a hard face
expressing great intelligence. Not surprisingly, the Prime Minister of France and the Deputy Chancellor of Germany sat together several rows ahead.

'You seem nervous, Gavin,' the American remarked.

'I'm not too keen on helicopters.'

'Use them frequently. Useful for short urgent trips in the
States. Something important in that case in your lap?'

'Only the complete operational plan.'

Thunder had the executive case open and inside were
sheaves of typed papers, clipped together so there were
seven copies of the document. He extracted one sheet
and the rest came loose from the clip and scattered. He handed the sheet to his colleague.

'That's the important one. The rest are details.'

The American read the close-typed page divided methodi
cally into sections. He was a fast reader.

'I like it. We're thinking on similar lines. You've divided
up your country into six control areas, each commanded by a Governor with wide powers. And a secret apparatus
of informers to report to the governor any dangerous
protesters. Plus a Bill for Parliament which declares martial
law without appearing to do so. Who is this Supreme Governor - Brigadier Barford?'

'A very experienced soldier who has also run Special
Branch, our equivalent to your FBI. His views coincide
with ours.'

'So all we need, which will happen soon, are riots such
as the world has never seen. Then the Elite Club will
take over. I presume preparations for the outbreak are
well advanced. I have been informed they are.'

'Very well advanced. They are an essential element in
our plan - to scare the populations of our countries witless
to such an extent they will accept anything. Rather like
the way Hitler came to power because the German middle
classes were desperate to stop the Communists assuming
power. I have replaced the man in charge of the earlier riots. A man I have great faith in witnessed them and
thought they were feeble. I have put him in sole charge.'

'Anyone I know?'

'I doubt it. A man with a brilliant brain called Oskar Vernon. With Vernon and Brigadier Barford running the
operation we cannot fail.'

CHAPTER 31

'There's a windmill,' Paula said, 'and the sails are turning.'

'That's because for the first time since we arrived in
Germany a wind has blown up,' Tweed told her. 'It's a south wind so it will be warm. Don't expect any relief
from the heat.'

'You're so encouraging. Now we're leaving Flensburg behind where are we heading for?'

'As close as we can get to the island of Sylt in the North sea - or the Nordsee as the Germans call it. Sylt is the last in the chain of German Frisian Islands. Immediately north
of there and you're in Denmark.'

'Why Sylt?'

'Because I want to see if there are signs of preparations
for a rendezvous of international statesmen.'

'You mean politicians, don't you?' suggested Newman
behind the wheel of the blue Mercedes. 'There aren't any statesmen these days.'

'I stand - or rather sit - corrected. We're now on Route
199. In a while we move on to small country roads. I'll
continue guiding you.'

Paula was staring out on to the sun-scorched countryside. Its character had changed from the monotony of the endless maize crops. It was becoming hilly, with copses of trees often growing by the roadside. More intimate and varied. Again the road was free of any other traffic and
she welcomed the atmosphere of peace, the feeling that nothing awful could happen here. Tweed turned round to
look at Lisa.

'You really are back to normal, I'd say.'

'Shall I tell him why?' Paula wondered and giggled.

'Go on,' Lisa urged her. 'Why not? It was funny.'

'We went into a restaurant in the Grosse Strasse after
the incident,' she explained tactfully. 'We ordered coffee but Lisa was, naturally, dying to have a real wash-down.
So she pretended to be ill and I escorted her to the ladies'.
Then I stood on guard outside to stop anyone getting in.
One unpleasant middle-aged woman tried to push past me.
In German I told her the position and said she'd have to
find somewhere else. She stormed off.'

'In the meantime,' Lisa took up the story, 'I'd stripped
off, used up four flannels washing myself all over. I felt
tons better when I'd dried myself even though I had to
put on the same clothes.'

'That was a good idea,' said Tweed.

'Oh, there was something else,' Paula recalled, her tone of voice serious. 'I'm sure that while I was standing there
looking through the windows into the street I saw someone
we know. You're not going to believe this.'

'Try me.'

'I'd bet a lot of money I did see him. Striding down the
street. It was his walk which caught my attention. You can always tell a person by his walk.'

'Who, for heaven's sake?' asked the exasperated Tweed.

'The Brig. Bernard Lord Barford.'

'What on earth is that gigantic aqueduct thing?' Paula
wondered.

They had travelled quite a distance when the massive
structure came into view. At the bottom of a slope leading
up to it stood a stationary train.

'That,' Tweed said, 'is the famous Hindenburg Dam
which carries the railway - the only access to the island
- to Sylt. The train appears to be waiting for something, which is odd.'

'I can hear a machine flying in the air a long way off,'
remarked Lisa.

'Bob!' Tweed's instruction was urgent. 'Take this turn
ing to the right. We're nearly on it.'

Newman slowed, swung the car skilfully just in time
to drive up a hedge-lined lane which climbed steeply.
Ahead of it was the summit of a small hill with a dense
copse of trees to the left. On top of a slightly higher
hill behind the copse stood a windmill, its sails motion
less.

'Keep it moving,' Tweed urged.

'Which way now?' shouted Newman as he came to a
fork.