This United State - Part 48
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Part 48

'Is someone going to let me in on the secret?' Paula pleaded.

They both handed her their letters. She studied them, took her time. Then she looked up.

'This is crazy. Same address, but apparently provided by two quite different people. Why?'

'It's a mystery,' Tweed agreed. 'And here's our meal. I'd like everyone to get on with it. I'm sure we're very short of time.'

'I know,' said Paula, 'gobble it down even though we haven't eaten for hours. Then we all get indigestion.' 'No need to do that,' Tweed a.s.sured her.

Marler finished first. Like Tweed and Paula he drank only water, avoiding wine. They didn't believe in touching alcohol when it came to driving.

'I told you about our brief confrontation with those four thugs in Hollental,' he began. 'I also mentioned the landslide. I was worried that when I drove to the bottom of the gulch that the exit would be blocked. Luckily, the landslide which covered the highway had not reached the right-hand lane. So we just drove straight off.'

Soon afterwards Tweed summoned the waiter, paid the bill. He pushed his chair back, anxious to leave.

'Just a moment,' Paula said. 'It would be nice to know where we're going.'

'To Strasbourg, of course.'

'It could be a trap,' Newman-warned.

'I agree. Only way to find out is to get there. As I mentioned earlier, I once stayed at the Hotel Regent. It's a very good hotel.'

'I'll take over the driving,' ,Paula offered.

'Thank you. But I'm just waking up, said Tweed, 'so I'll go on driving.'

'And I'll continue behind the wheel,' Marler chimed in.

'Oh, well,' Paula sighed. 'Strasbourg here we come.'

Paula was certain she would never forget the headlong drive up the autobahn heading for Strasbourg. They were all seated as they had been during the drive from Schluchsee. She was next to Tweed, with Newman and Kent in the back. She had her map in her, lap and referred to it frequently with the aid of her torch.

There was no longer any trace of snow and the moon glowed down brightly. Ahead she could see nothing but the endless stretch of the autobahn going on for ever. Tweed kept overtaking huge trucks lumbering along. One moment they saw red lights, the next, so it seemed to Paula, they had whipped past the vehicle. Hedges on the central reservation whipped past in a blur. She glanced at Tweed.

He was sitting quite still, his hands on the wheel relaxed as he continued staring into the distance. Her next glance was at the speedometer. Oh, my G.o.d! she thought. But of course there was no speed limit on German autobahns. There was also no speed limit for Tweed as the Audi devoured the miles.

'Are we trying to break some record?' Newman called out.

'We have so little time left,' Tweed replied.

As if Newman's comment and his own reply had alerted him he pressed his foot down even further. Paula suppressed a gasp. She thanked Heaven they had left the snow behind long ago. Red pinpoint lights appeared in the distance. Another truck. Then Tweed was overtaking. The juggernaut whizzed past, was gone. Paula realized she was pressing her feet hard against the floor, that the palms of her hands were damp. Surrept.i.tiously, she wiped them on her trousers.

'We're getting there,' said Tweed cheerfully.

'I'd already gathered that,' she replied.

In the second Audi, some distance behind them, Marler kept up his speed. Once he glanced at his speedometer. He raised his eyebrows.

'You know something,' he said to Nield next to him, 'this is North Pole or bust. In other words, Tweed has really got the bit between his teeth.'

'Oh, is that what is happening,' Nield answered, suddenly aware that he was sitting very tensely.

'I think he's in a bit of a hurry to get to Strasbourg,' Marler remarked.

'And I think he believes he's flying Concorde.'

Paula was studying her map again. She looked up as something flashed past. She cleared her throat to warn Tweed she was going to say something. He glanced at her.

'Comfortable?' he enquired.

'Oh, very. Would you mind if I suggested you slowed down just a bit?'

'We've got to get there.'

'I know. But we're approaching junction 54. That's where we'll turn off the autobahn and head for Kehl.'

'But we just pa.s.sed junction 55,' Tweed objected.

'Yes, we did. And at the rate we're moving we'll overshoot 54.'

'Not a chance.'

They overtook a convoy of three huge trucks. Paula looked up at the roof. It had been like watching a video on fast-forward. They had to be very close to 54 now. Then she realized Tweed was slowing - at least they were not travelling quite at supersonic speed any more.

'We have to be extremely close to it now,' she warned.

'I'm sure we are.'

She glanced at him again. For the first time she realized that mixed with his sense of anxiety about time was a sense of pure enjoyment. He felt he was achieving something. Which, she supposed, he was - if they got there in one piece.

'We're nearly at junction 54,' she said. 'And before you slap me down may I remind you I am the navigator?'

'Best in the world, I'd say.'

'Flattery will get you nowhere!'

Tweed had reduced his speed a lot. Turning off the autobahn at the junction he proceeded at a more sedate pace. Paula checked her map again.

'Soon we'll cross a bridge over the Rhine. After that we're in Strasbourg in no time.'

'Look for the spire of the cathedral,' Tweed suggested. 'It is immensely high. From the top on a clear day you can see the Vosges Mountains and the Black Forest, and they're a long way off.'

'What's Strasbourg like?'

'The centre, crowded round the cathedral, is a labyrinth of streets and alleyways. The buildings are as old as the hills. They're crammed together and their rooftops are all different heights, a lot of them lopsided and odd-looking. The best part is where we're going - Pet.i.te France.'

'And what do you expect when we reach the Mel Regent?'

'Something unpleasant, but we're getting used to that.'

42.

Paula almost purred with delight as Tweed, deep inside Strasbourg, drove across an old bridge lined with elegant iron railings and she saw the Hotel Regent. A large old four-square building, it was illuminated with tinted floodlights. She stared down beyond the railings at its reflection in the water under the bridge.

'We seem to have crossed a lot of bridges to get here.'

'The waterways are an essential part of Strasbourg,' Tweed explained. 'It's a very complex system and eventually you can sail in boats which take you on to the Rhine. Pleasure boats operate a lot in the season. I'm just hoping the hotel has rooms for all of us. The European so-called Parliament is here and when in session European MPs with fat expenses grab all the best accommodation.'

Paula glowed as they walked into a very modern and palatial reception area. The floor was paved with light green marble and the sides of the reception counter were also faced with marble. Round white pillars supported a high ceiling where the illumination was provided by recessed spotlights.

'We'd like rooms for seven people if that's possible,' Tweed said to the woman behind the curved counter. She was attractive, very fashionably dressed and had an air of authority. 'We have driven a long way,' Tweed added.

'No problem,' the woman said with a welcoming smile. 'We can give you all very nice rooms. If you could register, sir.'

Tweed dealt with the formalities, then looked at the woman as he returned her smile.

'If the porters could take our coats, some of us would like to go straight to the bar.'

'Certainly. Let me show you the way.'

Paula and Tweed were followed by Newman and Kent. Tweed heard Marler say the rest of them would like to go straight up to their rooms. Like the reception hall, the bar was modern but tasteful. In the manner of certain high-cla.s.s c.o.c.ktail bars it had comfortable armchairs upholstered in purple.

Tweed smiled to himself as they walked into the bar. By herself, seated in one of a series of banquettes facing each other, was Sharon Mandeville.

Marler was on his way upstairs to his room when a woman rounded a corner and started to descend. Denise Chatel. She looked hara.s.sed and had a briefcase tucked under her arm. She stopped dead when she saw him.

'h.e.l.lo, Denise,' he greeted her. 'You'll think I'm following you.'

'Are you?' she snapped.

Then she hurried past him down the stairs. Her expression was bleak and completely lacking in warmth. Marler shrugged.

'I think,' Nield whispered, 'she's gone off you...'

In the bar Tweed walked straight over to Sharon. She looked up and gave him a smile of extreme pleasure. Putting down her file, she stood up so he could hug her.

'Just when I was getting so bored with all this work you walk in, so now I can look forward to a really entertaining evening.'

'Rather a late evening,' he said sitting down facing her.

'Oh, the night is young. Who knows? We may be here at dawn.'

'This is Keith Kent,' Tweed introduced. 'Keith, Sharon Mandeville.'

'How nice to meet such a competent-looking man for a change. I am wondering what you do for a living.'

'I'm a banker.'

'A money man. Well, they say money makes the world go round.'

'Except,' Tweed said, 'at times the l.u.s.t for money, when satisfied, is sometimes succeeded by the l.u.s.t for power.'

'Tweed, you are a cynic.' She laughed. 'A dyed-in-the-wool cynic.'

'Or maybe a realist.'

'Paula.' Sharon focused her attention on her. 'I'm so glad you're here. Otherwise I'd feel out-gunned. Why don't we go shopping together? There are some marvellous shops here if you know where to go.'

'I doubt if my bank balance would come up to yours,' Paula said with a smile.

'Nonsense. It would be a change to have some female company. I'm drinking champagne. I'll order another bottle.'

'Not for me,' Tweed said hastily.

'There's Paula and Keith. May I call you Keith? Good. And now, Bob, I noticed you were hobbling. You've been in the wars?'

'Slipped on a flight of stone steps in Freiburg. It's nothing.'.

Sharon waved to a waiter. She ordered two more bottles of Dom Perignon. Then she leaned towards Tweed, speaking quietly.

'Talking about company, have you seen who is at the bar?'

Tweed turned round. At the bar, which had a pale yellow front, two men were perched on bar stools, their backs to the room. Rupert and Basil Windermere. He looked back at Sharon.

'What are they doing here?'

'Lord knows. They're a nuisance. Both of them, separately, have pestered me. I gave them a very cold shoulder. I can't imagine why they turned up here - unless they followed me on the autobahn. But why would they do that?'

'Your guess is as good as mine.'

'Then, to cap it all, you haven't noticed who is at a corner table by himself over there. That boor, Ed Osborne.'

Tweed again twisted round on his banquette. At that moment Ed Osborne looked up, caught his eye, stood up and lumbered over to their table between the facing banquettes. He slapped Tweed on the back, grinning, slurring his speech.

'Hi, feller! Great to see you again. You folks mind if I join you? Guess it's OK.'

As he sat down next to Tweed he looked across at Sharon and winked. She ignored him and started chatting with Newman. Osborne had a gla.s.s of Scotch in his right hand. Waves of the drink were drifting into Tweed's nostrils.

'What brings you all, as I believe they say in our Deep South, to this part of the world?'

'What brings you you here?' Sharon asked sharply, her expression cold. here?' Sharon asked sharply, her expression cold.