Terminal (35 page)

After war trained as doctor at Lausanne Medical School, followed by post-graduate work at Guy's Hospital, London, and Johns Hopkins Memorial Hospital, Baltimore, Maryland, USA. Brilliant student, always top of his class.

Military service not continued due to eye defect. After qualifying as lung consultant, trained as accountant. He proved to be as brilliant in this field as in the medical.

1954. Due to financial flair became director of Zürcher Kredit Bank at early age of 30. 1955. Founded Chemiekonzern Grange AG with factory at Horgen on shores of Lake Zurich. Chemiekonzern manufactures commercial gases, including oxygen, nitrous oxide, carbon dioxide and cyclopropane, a gas used in medical practice. Rumoured finance for foundation of Chemiekonzern provided by Zürcher Kredit Bank. Note: Repeat, rumour — not confirmed.

1964. Subject bought controlling interest in Berne Clinic. This establishment reported engaged in practice of cellular rejuvenation since subject took over. General comment: subject speaks fluent German, French, English and Spanish. Has made frequent visits to USA and South America. Believed to be millionaire. I was told by reliable contact no decision affecting Swiss military policy taken without reference to subject. One of the most influential voices in Swiss industrial-military complex. This comprises preliminary report based on sources in Zurich and Berne.

Newman read through the report twice and his expression was grim as he inserted the sheets inside the addressed envelope. Recent incidents flashed into his mind, triggered off by the report.

The doodle he had been given by Anna Kleist, a doodle of a gas-mask. Arthur Beck's comment about Hannah Stuart. 'The body was cremated...' The photograph Julius Nagy had taken of Beck outside the Taubenhalde — talking to Dr Bruno Kobler, chief administrator of the Berne Clinic.

Col Lachenal's reference to
tous azimuts
— all-round defence of Switzerland. And, most recent of all, Lisbeth Dubach's interpretation of the photos Blanche had taken of the laboratory at the Berne Clinic— `... something there they are making which needs the protection of similar filters.'

Another aspect of the report intrigued Newman: it bore all the hallmarks of a military appreciation with its terse, precise phraseology. That took his mind back to his meeting in the bar at the Bellevue Palace with Captain Tommy Mason. What was it the Englishman had said during their conversation when Newman had queried his research trip?

`Yes. Medical. Standards of and practice in their private clinics...'

Newman had little doubt he had just read a report drawn up by Mason — Mason who had 'accidentally' bumped into him in that bar, who was now dead. He asked Blanche the question, feeling pretty sure he already knew the answer.

`At the end of the report the word "preliminary" is used. That suggests more to come. Did you get the impression from your other client this would be the case?'

`No, I didn't.' Blanche paused. 'Nothing was said about any further data coming from the same source.' She perched on the arm of the sofa next to him. 'Bob, that report is frightening. Where is all this leading to? There is a mention of the Zürcher Kredit Bank — my stepfather is president of that bank...'

`There really isn't a close relationship between you two?'

`If you don't do exactly what my stepfather wants you to — and I didn't — he just forgets all about you. He's very much the military man. Obey orders — or else...'

`Blanche...' He took her hand. `... this whole business is beginning to look far more dangerous than I ever suspected. Is there any way your father could know that we are friends?'

`Our lives have gone separate ways. He doesn't know who my friends are — and doesn't want to know. And he is my stepfather. My mother divorced my real father who is now dead. You see now why we're so far apart...'

`I'd like you to keep it that way.' Newman kissed her and walked across the room to collect his coat. 'I'm off now — and thanks for this report...'

`Take care, Bob. Please. Where are you going now?' `To blow someone up with verbal gelignite...'

Lachenal agreed to see Newman as soon as he arrived. It is only a ten-minute walk from the upper Junkerngasse to the Bundeshaus Ost. On that morning it had been a freezingly cold walk through the warren-like arcades and on the way Newman had taken the precaution of slipping into the Bellevue Palace to leave the report on Grange in a safety deposit box at the hotel.

Coming out of the safety-deposit room, he bumped into a small, plump-faced man who had turned away from the reception counter, a man who blinked at him through his glasses before he spoke.

`I'm sorry,' Tweed said. didn't see you coming... `No harm done,' Newman assured him.

`I haven't been here long,' Tweed rambled on as though pleased to encounter a fellow-countryman. 'Has the weather been as beastly as this recently?'

`For days — and I think we're due for snow. Best thing is to stay indoors if you can. The wind out there cuts you in two...'

`I think I'll take your advice. This is a marvellous hotel to take refuge in...'

Tweed wandered off across the inner reception hall and Newman paused by the door, taking his time putting on his gloves. Sitting in a corner with her back to him was Nancy and the plump Englishman was heading straight towards her table followed by a waiter carrying a tray of coffee — coffee for two.

Newman waited just long enough to see the Englishman sit down opposite her while the waiter served them with coffee. They were talking together when Newman walked out and turned left to the Bundeshaus Ost.

`Lachenal,' Newman began savagely in the Intelligence chief's office as he sat facing the Swiss across his desk, 'what was all that bloody nonsense out at the Berne Clinic? I'm referring to that Leopard tank — for a moment it looked as though it was going to blow us to kingdom come. My fiancée nearly had a fit. I didn't enjoy the experience too much myself. And what is a German Leopard 11 tank doing in Switzerland? If I don't get some answers I'm going to file a story...'

`Permission to reply?' Lachenal's tone was cold, hostile. Even seated he seemed a very tall man, his back erect, his expression mournful. He's not a very happy man, Newman was thinking as he remained silent and the Swiss continued.

`First, I must apologize for the most unfortunate incident due entirely to a brief lack of communication. It was a simple but unforgivable misunderstanding. The people responsible have been severely reprimanded..

`What's a Leopard 11, the new German tank, maybe the most advanced tank in the world, doing in Switzerland..

`Please! Do let me continue. That is not classified. As you know, we manufacture certain military equipment but we buy a lot abroad — including tanks. We are in the process of re-equipping our armoured divisions. We have just decided to buy the Leopard 11 after thorough testing at Lerchenfeld. It is no secret...'

`Tabun. Is that a secret? The special team sent into Germany near the end of the war to bring back Tabun gas. Is that a secret?' Newman enquired more calmly.

`No comment!'

Lachenal stood up abruptly and went over to the window where he stood gazing at the view. Even dressed in mufti, as he was that morning, Lachenal reminded Newman of de Gaulle more than ever. The same distant aloofness at a moment of crisis.

`You know the
fohn
wind has been blowing,' Lachenal remarked after a pause. 'That probably contributed to the incident outside the Berne Clinic. It plays on the nerves, it affects men's judgement. It is no longer blowing. Soon we shall have snow. Always after the
fohn
...'

`I didn't come here for a weather forecast,' Newman interjected sarcastically.

`I can tell you this,' Lachenal went on, thrusting his hands into his pockets and turning to face Newman, 'it is true that the Germans had a large quantity of Tabun, the nerve gas, near the end of the war. Twelve thousand tons of the stuff, for God's sake. They thought the Soviets were going to resort to chemical warfare. The Red Army captured most of it. They've now drawn level with the West in a more sinister area — in the development of organo-phosphorous compounds. They have perfected their toxicity...'

`I do know that, Rene,' Newman said quietly.

`But do you also know the Soviets have perfected far more deadly toxic gases — especially those highly lethal irritants which they have adapted for use by their chemical battalions? I am referring, Bob, specifically, to hydrogen cyanide …'

Hydrogen cyanide
...'

The two words rang through Newman's head like the clang of a giant hammer hitting a mighty anvil. Lachenal continued talking in a level voice devoid of emotion.

`This substance is regarded in the West as being too volatile. Not so by the Soviets. They, have equipped their special chemical warfare sections with frog rockets and stud missiles. Artillery shells filled with this diabolical agent are also part of their armoury. Did you say something, Bob?'

`No. Maybe I grunted. Please go on...'

`The Soviets have further equipped aircraft with sophisticated spray tanks containing this advanced form of hydrogen cyanide gas. We have calculated that a single shell fired through the vehicle of a missile, an artillery shell or from a spray tank — aimed by a low-flying aircraft — would destroy all life over an area of one square kilometre. Just a single shell,' Lachenal repeated.

Newman heard him but he also heard Nancy's diagnosis of how Mrs Holly Laird had died.
And the complexion of the face showed distinct traces of cyanosis
. What was it Anna Kleist had replied?
My examination so far confirms precisely Dr Kennedy's impression
...'

Lachenal walked back from the window and again sat behind his desk, clasping his hands as he stared at his visitor who sat motionless. Newman shook his head slightly, brought himself back into the present. He had the distinct conviction that the Swiss was labouring under enormous tension, that he was concealing that tension with a tremendous effort of will.

`And so,' Lachenal concluded, 'all that started with Tabun. Which was what you came here to talk about — not the Leopard.'

`If you say so, Rene.' Newman heaved himself to his feet and reached for his coat. 'I'd better be going now...'

`One more thing, Bob.' Lachenal had stood up and he spoke with great earnestness. 'We all have to be the final judge of our own conduct in this world. No hiding behind the order of a so-called superior...'

`I would say you're right there,' Newman replied slowly.

It was this conversation which decided Newman as he left the Bundeshaus Ost — decided him that at the very first opportunity he would get Nancy out of Switzerland—even if it meant he had to crash the border.

Twenty-Six

`I'm going to visit Jesse — with or without you,' Nancy announced when Newman returned to their bedroom. `They're holding that Medical Congress reception here tomorrow evening. Are you, or are you not, coming with me?'

`I agree — and I'm coming with you.'

Newman dragged a chair over to the window and sank into it, staring at the view. The dark grey sea of cloud was lower than ever. He thought Lachenal had been right: they would have snow in Berne within the next twenty-four hours. Nancy came up behind him and wrapped her arms round his neck.

`I expected an argument. You're looking terribly serious. God, you've changed since we started out on this trip. Has something upset you?'

`Nancy, I want you to listen to me carefully. Most people think of Switzerland as a country of cuckoo clocks, Suchard chocolate and skiing. In one of his novels a famous writer made a wisecrack about the cuckoo clocks. There's another side to Switzerland most tourists never even dream exists.'

`Go on. I'm listening...'

`That makes a change. The Swiss are probably the toughest, most sturdy nation in Western Europe. They are ruthless realists — in a way I sometimes wish we were in Britain. They'll go a long way to ensure their survival. You know about their military service. This country has been on a wartime footing ever since nineteen thirty-nine. They still are. From now on we have to move like people walking through a minefield — because that's what lies in our path. A minefield...'

`Bob, you've found out something new since you left the hotel. Where have you been? And why the sudden turnabout as regards visiting the Berne Clinic?'

Newman stood up and began pacing the large room while he lit a cigarette and talked. He punctuated each remark with a chopping gesture of his left hand.