Part 51 (2/2)

'That's right,' Tweed replied, glancing at the menu, 'divine inspiration told us you'd be staying here.'

'Is there anywhere else to stay in Paris?' she retorted.

'Mind if I join you folks?' a deep American voice rumbled. Ed Osborne had a hand on the back of an empty chair facing Tweed. 'Guess we're gettin' to be a family - the way we keep meetin' up.'

'You're welcome, of course, Ed,' Sharon replied unenthusiastically.

'Great. I'm a sociable guy. Like company. What are you guys havin' for breakfast?' he enquired.

'We're having the full English,' Tweed told him. 'Here's the waiter.'

'Guess I'll go along with that,' Osborne agreed.

After they had ordered Sharon concentrated her attention on Paula. Putting a s.h.i.+elding hand to her face, she raised her eyebrows and glanced to her left at Osborne, as much as to say 'Here we go again.' Instead she said something else.

'When I've finished breakfast I'm off to the hairdresser. They have a good one here.'

Paula looked at Sharon's blonde waves, sweeping down gracefully to her shoulders.

'You look as though you've just come from the hairdresser,' she remarked.

'That's the nicest thing anyone's.said to me for a while.' Sharon extended a hand across the table, clasped Paula's. 'Thank you. Tweed, why are you in Paris?' she asked suddenly.

'I'm investigating the probable murder of Denise Chatel's father and mother at a lonely bridge in the state of Virginia.'

Osborne spilt coffee from the cup he was holding on his napkin. A waiter hurried forward, checked to make sure no coffee had stained his smart beige suit. Presenting him with a fresh napkin the waiter took away the spoilt one.

Paula was stunned by Tweed's unusual candour. She stiffened but managed to avoid a startled expression.

'Murder?' Sharon looked puzzled 'I thought they died in a road accident.'

'You got something wrong there, brother,' said Osborne. 'It was was an accident, according to the official report.' an accident, according to the official report.'

'I have a witness who says otherwise,' Tweed told him.

'A witness?' Osborne was incredulous. 'Who is this so-called witness?'

'I don't think I can reveal a name at this stage.'

'This is Paris, France, not Virginia,' Osborne protested.

'The long arm of retribution sometimes stretches across continents.'

'I'm stupefied,' said Sharon. 'Stupefied and shaken. If you're right, does Denise know about this?'

'By the way, where is Denise?' Tweed enquired, evading a direct answer.

'In her room here. Working. She had a very early breakfast.'

'Talkin' about breakfast, here it comes, praise the Lord,' said Osborne. 'Everybody here probably thinks with my weight I'd be better off with just grapefruit. Fact is, I'm in good shape. Keep myself in good shape at the gym. Slam at punch bags, lift weights. All that stuff.'

'You must have good reflexes, then,' Newman suggested.

'He has,' Paula confirmed. 'I saw him coming downstairs this morning like a ten-year-old.'

'In a hurry for my breakfast,' said Osborne, and he chuckled.

'I have to go upstairs to make a phone call,' Tweed announced after finis.h.i.+ng his meal.

He glanced round the restaurant. Marler, as instructed, sat at a table by himself some distance away. At another table, again as instructed by Tweed, Butler and Nield sat at their own table. No point in identifying all his people to anyone in the restaurant who might be interested.

'I hope you'll excuse me,' Tweed said to Sharon.

'Of course. I'm just going to have another cup of coffee and then I'll be working too.'

As Tweed left the restaurant Marler stood up, strolled casually after him. En route to the lift with Newman, Tweed felt like a breath of fresh air. As Paula, following behind them, had said earlier, it was a glorious day.

Walking the full length of the wide corridor Tweed approached the main exit leading out onto the Place Vendome. He reached the door and no one else was about. He stepped forward into the open and was forcefully jerked backwards by Marler. A bullet struck the exact point where he'd been a second earlier. The bullet ricocheted out into the place. The uniformed doorman on duty outside ran up to him.

'Something wrong, sir?'

'Caught my foot on a stone someone must have kicked into the entrance.'

'I thought I heard a noise.'

'Car backfiring.'

Marler had run out into the place place. The doorman saw nothing of what he was doing as he was talking inside to Tweed. Marler was circling the empty place place, a Walther in his hand. He had it pointed upwards along thq rim of the mansard rooftops opposite. He didn't expect to be fired at - he was a moving target. His reaction was a warning to the invisible marksman who had aimed to kill Tweed. Again from a rooftop, as had been the case in Basel.

Inside the reception hall Tweed was viewing the potentially lethal incident calmly and philosophically. Which was not the case with either Paula or Newman. She kept her voice down but didn't mince her words.

'You must be crazy to walk out of that door by yourself. It was only due to Marler that you weren't killed. What were you thinking of?'

'Paula's right,' Newman agreed. 'What the h.e.l.l were you thinking about - taking a risk like that?'

'Yes, you are both right,' Tweed responded. 'I was thinking about something that happened at breakfast - or rather something that didn't happen. I'll express my grat.i.tude to Marler when I see him.'

'It means,' Newman pointed out grimly, 'that the Phantom tracked you to this hotel.'

'It means just that,' Tweed agreed.

Earlier, en route to the lift, before he had decided to sample some fresh air, Tweed had paused to take a good look at the patio beyond some windows. He had recalled this was where, in summer, society women gathered for tea and an exchange of the latest scandal. Osborne had pa.s.sed them on his way out from the restaurant, hurrying to the exit.

Now it was Paula who paused. She was examining the contents of a gla.s.s showcase displaying objects d'art objects d'art sold by a famous shop in the rue St-Honore. The prices were sky high. sold by a famous shop in the rue St-Honore. The prices were sky high.

<script>