'Another point,' Newman pressed, 'is how can we be sure we'll know when Ronstadt is leaving?'

'I've attended to that,' Tweed told him. 'I phoned Kuhlmann, head of the Federal Kriminalpolizei in Wiesbaden, as you know. Also a close friend. He has phoned the manager here, saying he is tracking terrorists. He's asked the manager to inform me of any sign that Ronstadt is leaving.'

'Point covered, then.'

'Reverting to that intriguing story Denise Chatel told you: if it's true, wouldn't it be strange if the key to the momentous events we're caught up in lies in the car accident, so called, which killed both her parents in Virginia?'

'It would be very strange,' Newman agreed. 'But I don't see how.'

'It's just a glimmer of an idea which flashed into my mind as I listened to you. And we still don't know who the mysterious Charlie is. Charlie's ident.i.ty is possibly the real key.'

A little later Tweed told Marler to go back to the Schwarzwalder Hof and to keep him informed. He then looked round at the others and said he wanted a private meeting with someone, so would they mind leaving him until he phoned them in their rooms? As soon as he was alone he picked up the phone and asked Guy Strange- ways to come and see him for a chat. While he waited Tweed took out a recording device, tested it to make sure it was in working order.

'Guy, do sit down. Would you like some coffee?'

'No, thank you. Drank too much of it already at breakfast.'

'You don't look your normal self, you know.'

Strangeways had seated himself in an armchair, slumped against the back. Tweed sat in a chair opposite him with a small table between them. His guest showed every sign of nervous exhaustion. He kept pulling at his moustache, staring at Tweed. When he did speak his voice almost quivered.

'What is this all about?'

'It's about you. You've got something on your mind and it is tearing you to pieces. We've known each other a long time, off and on, so maybe you can help me.'

'G.o.d knows, I'm the one who needs help.' He paused, then it all came tumbling out. 'I've besmirched the family name. That must sound pretty old-fashioned.'

'Not to me, it doesn't. What happened?'

'I took a gamble in business in the States and I was short of money. Only for a while but my compet.i.tors were closing in on me. Tweed, to cut a long story short, I accepted a bribe from the Americans of half a million dollars.'

'Anyone operating in the States can get caught up in the corrupt atmosphere that prevails over there. You must have promised something in return for the bribe.'

'The Yanks are planning on converting Britain into a colony of America,' he burst out. His voice grew stronger. 'We will become a state of their b.l.o.o.d.y Union. Hawaii was the fiftieth state. We would become the fifty- first state. The condition of the bribe was that if you refused to become Governor - they were very keen for you to accept - then I'd a.s.sume the post. If you accepted I'd get another big post running Britain.' He stood up, began marching round the room as he talked. 'I feel better now I've told you. Ironically, I didn't need the half a million. I tried to give it back. It's still in a special account I had set up in London.'

'What happened when you attempted to return the half a million?'

'They showed me a photo - taken secretly - of my opening their executive case with the money inside. They said they'd send the photo, and the story, to tabloids in Britain and to top newspapers in New York. My reputation would be ruined.'

'Guy, who handed you the money?'

'That vile creature Jake Ronstadt. A man I wouldn't have inside Irongates. In the photo he's smirking. I'm going to return the money anyway. I had put a codicil in my will that it was to go to a charity.' His voice had become vibrant. 'Now I'm going to return it and d.a.m.n the consequences.'

'How will you do that?'

'I've asked Sharon if she knows the private address of the Secretary of the Treasury in Washington. She does. I didn't give her any idea what I wanted it for.'

'But by accepting the money you were able to gain information as to what they intended,' Tweed said quietly.

'That's true.'

'So that's why you accepted the supposed bribe. Guy, we have to defeat them, even at the eleventh hour. I have a recording machine here. I want us to start the conversation all over again. You answer my questions, explain that you accepted the so-called bribe to find out what they were really up to. So you could tell me. If you do this it will help me enormously.'

'It will?'

'Enormously. Let's start now...'

Tweed put the same kind of questions, Guy answered them as Tweed had suggested. The answers came in a strong clear voice. Watching him, Tweed was startled by the transformation which had come over Guy Strangeways.

He looked years younger, totally alert, his blue eyes fiery. When they had finished Tweed switched off his small recorder.

'Are you expecting a fire-fight with the enemy?' Guy asked suddenly.

'It could be on the cards.'

'Got as many men as they have?'

'No. We are outnumbered, but that doesn't worry us.' 'Take me with you, to help even things up.

'Can I think about that?' Tweed suggested.

'Don't think I'm up to it, do you? I am armed.'

Guy slid a Smith & Wesson.38 revolver out of a shoulder holster under his jacket, the weapon favoured by Newman. He began unloading the gun, placing six bullets on the small table.

'Why are you carrying that?' Tweed asked quietly.

'Like to be able to look after myself in a tight corner. See that picture of a man over there? That's the target.'

Guy loaded and raised the revolver, aiming at the picture. Tweed watched him closely. Guy held the revolver in one hand, pulled the trigger six times in rapid succession. The gun was steady as a rock. No sign of even a hint of a quiver. The demonstration impressed Tweed far more than he'd expected. Guy talked while he reloaded the weapon, returned it to his holster.

'I did manage to cope in the Gulf War. As you know, I was a general. Part of the sweeping left hook which raced across the desert to cut off the whole of Saddam's Presidential Guard. Then the d.a.m.n Yanks stopped us. In another twenty-four hours we'd have destroyed Saddam for ever.'

'I know,' said Tweed. 'I'd like first to get in touch with one of my team. Then could I phone you in your room?'

'Of course. Incidentally, when you speak to your chap stress I take orders from him. I serve as a simple footsoldier. Won't make any suggestions unless I'm specifically asked for them.'

'I'll tell him. Going back briefly to that silly business about the money. Did you tell Sharon?'

'Good G.o.d, no! Thought I'd made that clear..Wouldn't dream of it. I've told no one except you, and I'll keep it that way. Just before I leave you alone, there is another problem.'

'Which is?'

'The usual one. Rupert. He's traipsing round with - that swine, Basil. Windermere is a bad influence on him.' He smiled grimly. 'And probably Rupert is equally a bad influence on Basil.'

'You don't mean they're here?'

'They are. Both have a room in this hotel. They were pa.s.sengers when I drove here from Basel. Found myself between the devil and the deep blue sea. Didn't want them with me. Didn't want to leave them behind. Thought it best to keep an eye on them. At this moment they're in the bar downstairs, of course. Saw them a few minutes before I went back up to my room in time to take your phone call.'

'You'll have to leave them on their own if you should come with us - if we're going anywhere.'

'Trouble is Basil has hired a car here in Freiburg. So they're mobile. But there are more important things than those two. I'd better go now. I'll wait for your phone call ...'

Alone in his room, Tweed called Monica on Beck's mobile phone. He could tell from her voice the moment she answered that she was excited.

'Tweed, is this line safe?'

'Yes, it is. You have news?'

'Roy Buchanan called me, wanted to speak to you.

When I said you weren't available he gave some data to pa.s.s on. No more bombs have exploded. You know why?'

'I will if you tell me.'

'Well-'

'Monica, could you hold on? Something I have to check. Back in a moment...'

Tweed had started calling Monica as soon as Guy had left the room. He had vaguely been aware of some kind of commotion outside in the corridor. Running to the door, he opened it. Paula stood there. Her expression was strange. He went into the corridor. To his right stood Osborne, smoking a fresh cigar.

'Hi there, Tweed. Time we had that drink in the bar.'

Osborne seemed the jovial hail-fellow-well-met type he had been when he had visited Tweed in his office at Park Crescent. He waved his cigar in greeting.

'What is it, Paula?' Tweed asked, irritated.

'I was coming along to your room when I heard an argument. Two voices. One was Sir Guy's. He was shouting, sounded furious. I couldn't see who the other person was. The argument sounded vicious. I was a little way round a corner, so I couldn't see anything. When I got here I saw Sir Guy disappearing. Mr Osborne was standing where he is now...'

'The name is Ed Ed,' Osborne called out amiably. 'OK, Paula?'

'The name is Miss Grey,' she shot back. 'Did you see who was in the corridor with Sir Guy Strangeways?'

'Nope. I just came outta my room. What's the problem?'

'There isn't one,' said Tweed. 'Paula, come in. I'm talking to somebody.'

He locked the door when they were both inside, ran back to the phone he'd left on a table. He explained briefly to Paula over his shoulder.

'I have Monica holding on. Be with you soon.... 'Monica. Sorry about that. Turned out to be nothing. Now I can give you my full attention.'

'Well, Buchanan is using to the full his new powers. He's ringed the American Emba.s.sy in Grosvenor Square with a large team of plain-clothes officers, all armed. When anyone comes out they're followed - on foot if they're walking, in a car if they drive away. Since he employed these tactics no more bombs, as I told you earlier.'

. 'Any protests from the Americans?'

'You bet. Buchanan happened to be there in a car with a team when Morgenstern came out, was driven off in a limo. Buchanan followed him. Morgenstern stopped his limo, demanded to know what was going on. Buchanan explained they'd had a tip-off that terrorists were going to bomb the Emba.s.sy, so he was providing protection.'

'Clever. Significant that the bombings have stopped.'

'Earlier someone had placed a bomb - a big one - inside a key telephone exchange. The Bomb Squad found it, defused it.'

'Any other developments?'

'I was just going to tell you. An FBI team flew in, offered their services. Buchanan said he didn't need an alien force to help. They didn't like that at all. The situation appears to be under control. For the moment.'

'Thank you, Monica. Make a note of this hotel's name and my room number. I may not be here long. And I'll give you the number of my mobile phone...'

He gave her the data, thanked her again, ended the call, turned to look at Paula. She was sitting down, listened intently as he asked the question.

'Something very weird went on in that corridor a few minutes ago. I even. thought I heard the sounds of a struggle. Were you able to identify the second voice - the voice of the person arguing with Guy?'

'No. It was a voice I haven't heard before. Strident. Using filthy language.'

'Voice of a man, a woman?'

'Sony, Tweed, but I couldn't tell. I thought I caught the tone of a very American accent, but I could be wrong. I was still a distance along the other corridor, which m.u.f.fled things a lot.'

'But you could hear Sir Guy's voice?'

'Definitely. His is so distinctive. I thought I heard him shout, "Don't you d.a.m.ned well talk to me like that." But again I'm not sure. When I turned the corner he was just disappearing round a corner in the distance. Ed Osborne was standing outside his room.'

'How long do you think he'd been there?'

'No idea. It looked as though he'd just come out of his room. His cigar had been trimmed and was alight.'

'I don't like it.' Tweed stirred in the arm chair he had sat in. 'Something very weird is going on, as I said a few minutes ago.'

Paula, sitting in an armchair opposite him, the one Guy had occupied, reached out and felt the coffee pot on the table. She reached for a clean cup and saucer.

'This coffee feels fresh. Drink some. It will help you to get the brain racing.'

She watched while he drank slowly. He was staring at nothing, as though his mind was miles away. He put the cup down and spoke slowly.

'Guy was with me before he left this room. He's offered to join us as a reinforcement. He knows roughly what they're up to and thinks they should be stopped. Incidentally, regarding what happened in the corridor you used the word "vicious". Were you referring to Guy?'

'No, to whoever he was arguing with. I've just had a thought. Osborne was in the corridor. Could he have been the person Guy was having a verbal battle with?' 'Wouldn't you have recognized his voice?'

'Not necessarily. I've never heard Osborne in a towering rage.'

'Voices do change according to the mood a person is in.'

'You said Guy was going to join us. Is that a good idea?'

'I came to the conclusion he would be an a.s.set. But if he does come he'll have to travel in Marler's Audi. There's s.p.a.ce for a fourth person there. I must phone Marler, put the idea to him. If he doesn't agree, Guy doesn't come.'

Tweed took the mobile out of his pocket. He called the other hotel, explained the position to Marler vaguely, not using Guy's name. Then he put the phone on the table.

'Marler's phoning me back from an outside phone. We'll have to wait.'