Part 31 (1/2)

'What are you having to celebrate?' Windermere enquired.

They were sitting in two comfortable seats upholstered in red leather. No one else was in the bar except for an attractive blonde waitress, who immediately came to them. Windermere looked her up and down appreciatively. Newman sensed the girl did not like the way he looked at her.

'I'll have a double Scotch,' he said.

After what's just happened I think I need it, he was thinking. And I'm not staying here a moment longer than I have to. Not with this piece of rubbish.

'Cheers! To eternal friends.h.i.+p, my dear chap,' said Windermere, raising his gla.s.s.

'What are we celebrating?' Newman asked without enthusiasm.

'The fact that we're together again, of course. I must say you're looking chipper.'

'Why are you here?'

'Just like the old Newman, foreign correspondent extraordinaire extraordinaire.' Windermere gave a saturnine smile. Newman realized he'd never before noticed how like a handsome fox the playboy was. A smile which probably had rich dowagers swooning. 'Always digging for info,' Windermere went on.

'You haven't answered my question. Why?'

'To keep dear Rupert company, of course.'

'Rupert is in Basel?'

'Ectually, like me, he has a room in this hotel. Sir Guy also is here.'

'I get it. He's paying for you both.'

'You could be a little more diplomatic at times, Bob.' 'When it's staring me in the face, I tell the truth.'

'See you've finished your drink.' Windermere summoned the waitress. 'Same again?'

'I'll have a single this time, thank you.'

'You know, Bob,' Windermere remarked when they were alone, 'at times life can be hard. A chap doesn't know where the next penny is coming from.'

Windermere was wearing a new blue Armani suit, an expensive starched white s.h.i.+rt, a Valentino tie. He sat with his long legs sprawled out, crossed at the ankles. His feet were clad in handmade shoes.

'From the way you're dressed I'd say you were doing all right.'

'Ah! Appearances can be deceptive.' He placed a finger along the side of his Roman nose. 'Not a word to Betty. At the moment I haven't a bean. Thought you might help me out. Twenty thousand pounds would help me to get by. Just as a loan,' he added hastily. 'Pay you back as soon as I get on my feet.'

'I know. This year. Next year. Sometime. Never.'

'You know you could afford it - never even notice a difference in your bank balance. You did write that book - world bestseller. Kruger: The Computer That Failed Kruger: The Computer That Failed. Must have made you independent financially for life.'

The book had done just that for Newman. He had no intention of confirming the fact to Windermere. He finished his drink, turned in his chair to face Windermere.

'Basil, I never borrow, I never lend. A maxim you might like to think about.'

The waitress had placed the bill on the table. It was left there for Windermere to sign. His expression turned ugly. He lifted his gla.s.s, drank the contents quickly, hammered down the gla.s.s.

'I thought you'd get me out of a hole. I've got back rent due on my flat...'

'You will live just off Regent Street. Move to Clapham.'

'You know I couldn't possibly receive my friends in Clapham...'

'Your rich widows. Ever thought of getting a proper job?'

'If you don't mind my saying so,' Windermere said with an edge to his voice, 'I don't too much care for what you're saying.'

'It's not an ideal world, Basil.'

Newman stood up to leave. Windermere caught him by the sleeve. The smile was a memory. Newman was surprised at how vicious Windermere looked.

'You've forgotten the tab,' he said, pointing to the bill.

'And you've forgotten you invited me to have a drink.'

Without waiting for a response he left the bar. On his way up in the lift to his room Newman had a thoughtful expression. He was recalling his conversation with Basil Windermere. He was also remembering the vicious expression which had crossed Windermere's face at one moment. It didn't fit in with his previous impression of a playboy who preyed on rich woman. He'd have to see Tweed a little later.

Tweed was alone in his room. He had taken his time having a hot bath, changing into fresh clothes. His mind was racing round in three or four different directions. He was just about to call Newman, Marler and Paula when the phone rang. To his surprise the hotel operator told him Beck was waiting downstairs to see him.

'Please ask him to come straight up...'

It was a solemn-faced Beck who entered. He accepted Tweed's invitation to sit down, refused his offer of coffee. Crossing his legs, he sat quite still, as though gathering his thoughts, or wasn't sure how to start. Tweed sat opposite him and waited.

'That was a grim business,' Beck began. 'Fortunately there were no casualties, which was a miracle.'

'You know what it was all about? A determined attempt to wipe out me and my team at one blow. I doubt if you would have survived.'

'I'd worked that out for myself. I've just had a stormy phone conversation with Jake Ronstadt. I called him. I told him what had happened, that I was just about to report the incident to Was.h.i.+ngton - together with the fact that five of the men staying with him had been killed in Basel, that all were found to carry weapons. He didn't like it at all.'

'What was his reaction?'

'Oh, what I expected. Raved on, saying it was nothing to do with him, that he had diplomatic status. I interrupted him, said that after I had spoken to Was.h.i.+ngton I would want to see him here at police headquarters. He erupted.'

'In what way?'

'He said he'd not stand any longer being hara.s.sed by Swiss police. In any case, he was leaving Switzerland for good during the next two or three days. And he'd be taking his staff with him. Then he slammed the phone down.'

'So you got what you wanted.' Tweed smiled ruefully. 'What you are after.'

'I'm not sure I understand you.'

'Arthur, you understand me only too well. Your phone call was intended to drive Ronstadt and his men out of the country. And you succeeded.'

'I must admit I'm sick and tired of the violence the Americans are causing.'

'And,' Tweed said quietly, 'you'll be glad to see the back of us.'