Rhinoceros (43 page)

The phone rang. Lisa asked Paula to see who it was so she could finish her renovation. Paula picked it up, was about to ask who it was when a creepy voice spoke.

'Oskar here. I have news
..."

Paula put down the phone as though it were red hot.
She was careful not to look at Lisa, who turned round on her dressing table seat.

'Was it Tweed again?'

'Wrong number.'

'Tweed rang me a few minutes ago to tell me you and
Newman were going with him to a business meeting. Said
he hoped you'd be back in a couple of hours. You know I'm still feeling ill about poor Mark. You don't look too
good yourself.'

'I'm all right. I'd better go soon. I just called to see if you had heard - and if so how you were.'

Paula was in a state of shock. Why had Oskar Vernon -she felt sure it had to be him - phoned Lisa of all people? She let herself out, saying nothing in case her voice might
betray her.

In the corridor the same small chunky uniformed hotel
cleaner was still operating his vacuum cleaner. She noticed
that the trousers he was wearing flopped over his shoes. His jacket wasn't a wonderful fit. She walked towards
Tweed's suite.

'Good morning,' she said as she passed the cleaner.

He grunted, didn't look up. Which was unusual. She'd
found all the staff so polite. Maybe he was new. She
knocked on the suite door and Tweed, wearing a new business suit, a coat over his arm, ushered her inside.

'You won't need a coat this weather,' she told him. 'It's a boiling day outside already.'

'You're right. Can't think why I took it out of the
wardrobe. Had my mind on something else.'

The death of Mark,
she thought. Or, more likely, working
out his strategy for the meeting with Rondel and his
partner. She sat down, couldn't think of anything to
say. Shouldn't she tell him about the weird phone call
in Lisa's room?

'Lisa,' he said, 'has had a bad time of it. She actually
saw Mark's body on the pavement when she got back to
here. From Bob's description, when he visited the morgue,
it must have shaken Lisa up badly.'

'I can understand that.'

She was still trying to decide whether to tell Tweed
when Newman arrived. He smiled at her, squeezed her
shoulder.

'I can do without any more grim shocks today. What
are the tactics for this morning?'

'Leave me to do the talking,' Tweed replied. 'You
two keep your eyes open. You might just see something
interesting.' He looked at his watch. 'Time to go. Nield has told the porter to have the Merc ready for us - the
cream one, of course.'

When they entered the corridor Paula noticed the man using the vacuum cleaner had disappeared, but half the
carpet still needed attention. Tweed had gone ahead,
turned to call to Paula.

'I'm having a brief word with Lisa, then Keith . . .'

He tapped on Lisa's door and stood half inside when
she opened it. Paula heard every word that was said.

'Lisa, I'm off to a meeting with Paula and Bob. Expect to be back in about two and a half hours. I hope you can
then join us for lunch. You can? Good.'

He hurried on to Keith Kent's door, beckoned Paula and
Newman to come with him. A heavy-eyed Kent let them in.
Paula thought he looked as though he'd had no sleep. His
desktop was scattered with Kefler's papers and he had a
small ledger open. The page was a jumble of figures. He
took the blue book out of a drawer and it had a marker
inside it.

'Didn't know who it was,' he explained. 'So I hid
the book.'

'How is it going?' Tweed asked.

'I'm breaking it, but haven't got there yet. The blue
book Mark provided is invaluable.'

It occurred to Paula that Kent didn't know Mark was
dead. He was in his shirt sleeves and on another table was a
tray of coffee, remnants of croissants. Tweed looked at it.

'When did you last eat a proper meal?'

'Can't remember. Been at it all night. It's absorbing.'

'Go down now and get a decent meal at the Condi,' Tweed told him.

'I can't leave these papers, even locked up . . .'

'Lisa could come and keep guard while you eat,' suggested Tweed.

'Lisa,' Paula said hastily, 'is fagged out. She told me,'
she lied, 'she didn't get any sleep - probably after her long day yesterday.'

Tweed glanced at her, bewildered. There was nothing
that he could say, that it would be wise to say. He looked back, saw Newman standing inside the closed door, turned
to Keith.

'Any hint as to what you've found so far?'

'Oh, there's a ton of money missing. But whether it's still somewhere inside the bank or has been moved elsewhere I just can't fathom yet. Nor who is responsible for the move
ment. I'll crack it, but it may take a few more days.'

'Promise you'll phone room service, order a proper meal
as soon as we've gone.'

'I'll do that. I've just realized I'm hungry . .'.'

The cream stretch limo was waiting for them and
Newman took the wheel. Paula sat beside him and Tweed rode in the back. Tweed had once visited Blankenese and
navigated for them.

It didn't seem to take long for them to leave behind
the massive, stately buildings which were Hamburg and
then they were driving along a rustic road with trees in
leaf. Paula gazed out and to each side they began to pass
imposing mansions set back from the road with manicured
lawns in front of them. The architecture varied enormously
- there were mansions in the old style, square and solidly
built, but others were more imaginative with long frontages, thatched roofs and strange turret-like towers. Each
property, she guessed, would cost a fortune to buy.

'Marler and Nield are not far behind us in the Opel,' Newman remarked. 'Not a bad idea, maybe. It's rather lonely out here.'

'We're approaching the house,' Tweed warned from the
back. 'I can see a sign ahead pointing to a side road.
Taxusweg. Rondel scribbled that as a landmark when he
gave me the address.'

Newman slowed, indicated right. A warning to Marler
they were close. As he had anticipated, Marler turned
down Taxusweg. To park discreetly, Newman guessed.

'This big house well back,' Tweed warned. 'Turn along
the drive.'

Newman swung into the wide entrance, flanked by two
pillars, each surmounted with an elegant lantern. The front
garden was like a small park with lawns and beautiful specimen trees.
But no electronically powered gates,
Paula thought —
and no sign of guards. You just drove in.

There were other lanterns perched on steel posts scattered
amid the trees. This place must look even more glorious after dark with the lanterns lit, she mused. A large long mansion built of white stone came into view. Newman parked close to the main entrance, a pair of heavy oaken
doors.

'Well,' said Tweed, before alighting. 'Let's hope here is where we find the key to what is really going on.'

Both doors were opened with a flourish by a tall uniformed
chauffeur. A Daimler was parked near the corner of the
mansion. Tweed studied the chauffeur intently. Not the
usual chauffeur - even by the standards of those working
for rich men. He had brown hair trimmed short, a strongly
featured face, and was in his thirties, but it was the eyes
that caught Tweed's attention. They were exceptionally intelligent, and the man moved athletically.

'Yes, I'm Tweed.'

'You are expected, sir,' the chauffeur replied in faultless
English. 'If you would wait in the hall for just a few
moments
..."

Left to themselves in the spacious hall, Tweed noticed a Louis Vuitton case standing against a wall. He bent down.
Someone had tucked in below the handle a
Bordkane,
or
a boarding pass. Lufthansa.
From BER to HAM.
Dated
the previous day. Someone had flown back from Berlin
to Hamburg in the afternoon - on the day Kuhlmann had
reported that Kurt Kruger, aide to the Deputy Chancellor,
had been murdered.

Tweed was holding the pass in his hand when Rondel
entered like a whirlwind, clad in riding gear.

'Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!'

He bowed, took Paula's right hand, kissed it, looked up
at her with a broad smile. She found she rather liked a
gesture she would not normally have found acceptable.
Tweed held up the printed slip.

'I found this boarding pass from Berlin to Hamburg
lying on the floor. It must have slipped out of the case.'

'That belongs to Danzer, the chauffeur who greeted
you. He flew to Berlin and back again yesterday.' Rondel
grinned. 'He has a new girlfriend. He collects and dismisses
them as though they were playing cards . . . Please excuse
my attire. I have an engagement to go riding . . . Want to come?' he asked Paula.

'It's a long time since I sat on a horse. Thank you, but
I think I need a quiet day. Yesterday was rather hectic. I
did enjoy the dinner, though.'

'You couldn't have enjoyed it as much as I revelled in
having a chat with you
...
I couldn't sleep last night. Your
image kept coming into my mind . . .'

He was talking as he had at the restaurant. In rapid
bursts that demonstrated the extraordinary quickness of
his mind. He waved towards the interior of the house.

'My partner is waiting for you. Or rather, he would
like to see Tweed alone, if that is not too impolite . . . Paula, you and Bob can come with me . . . we will enjoy
a drink together. I am hoping Bob, the famous inter
national foreign correspondent, can tell us what is wrong with the world. If both of you would like to make yourselves comfortable in this room . . .' He was leading them
towards a closed door. '. . . I will be back in a tick.'

He turned to Tweed, who had slipped the boarding pass
under the handle of the case.

'Please, Mr Tweed, let me escort you . . .'

Inside the room she had been shown into with Newman,
Paula remained standing. It kept going through her head.
Lisa concussed, after the blow Delgado had struck her back
home at Reefers Wharf. The message she had desperately
tried to get across, hardly able to speak.

Ham . . . Dan . . . Four S.