Midnight Plus One - Lyall Gavin - Страница 35

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'I'd like to get off at Lausanne,' I said slowly. 'If we can pass it on to Maganhard.'

He looked at me thoughtfully. 'You haven't got a plan,' he said. 'You're just counter-punching. That's all.'

'There are worse plans. At least it's flexible.'

He gave me another look, then relaxed slowly. The smell of trouble had done a lot to wake him up. He might have been feeling like hell's ashes – and probably was – but he'd been a gunman a lot longer than he'd been an alcoholic.

But it wouldn't last. As his hangover wore off, his thirst would begin to wear on. If hangovers lasted as long as thirsts, there wouldn't be any alcoholics.

The train had the early-morning feeling, too. It crawled out along the lakeside, stopping whenever it got the chance. We'd started with about half a dozen other people in our carriage; most of them had gone by the time we got to Nyon.

The ticket collector, wearing a cash satchel slung down around his knees, came round and said'Bern, ah?' to Maganhard's tickets, good and loud. That suited me fine, since I'd changed my mind.

The trench-coat had to buy a ticket. I bent my ears hard in that direction in case he was passing messages as well as money, but was certain he hadn't.

Soon after Nyon, Maganhard came back down the aisle, towards the lavatory. While he was gone I scribbled a note: The man just behind you is following you. Don't talk out loud. Get off at Lausanne. Wait until everybody else is off.

When he came back I just held it out to him and he took it without stopping to argue, and without stopping to read it before he got back to his seat, either. Now all we had to do was wait to see if he'd obey it.

At the next few stations, people started to get in again. I hoped there wouldn't be too many; I wasn't looking for an audience.

As we rounded the last curve into Lausanne, most of the people in the carriage stood up. Harvey said quietly: 'Are you going to try and lose him by running all over town?'

'No.'

He nodded. 'I'm not offering toshoot any cops, but-'

'My own thoughts exactly.'

He smiled. 'You or me?'

'Me. You block the light.'

The train stopped gently. People jostled their way off. I began to sweat. Maganhard could still wreck it by getting off too soon; I wished I'd remembered to tell him the train stopped for several minutes.

He got it right. The last people got off, a few more got on and sat down. Then the doorway was clear. Maganhard stood up and strode out, the girl a few paces behind him. Harvey took my briefcase and we started moving.

The trench-coat bounced suddenly out in front of us, snapped:'Je m'excuse'without looking at us, and hurried down the aisle. I took several quick steps and was right behind him when he went through the glass door into the little cramped space beside the lavatory and before the steps down. The girl was just ahead of him.

At the last moment his mind must have caught up with events: the fact that Maganhard had suddenly jumped off meant he knew he was being followed; and what were we doing getting off so late, as well? He slowed, stiffened, and his head started to turn.

I jabbed my fist, first knuckle extended, in under the brim of the Alpine trilby. He gave a little whistling sigh and folded up. I caught him and leaned us against the lavatory door. Latched.

Harvey's hand snaked under my elbow, and twisted the handle; the trench-coat and I fell inside with a rush. The door slapped shut behind us.

I hardly bothered to look at his face: it wouldn't tell me anything. I dumped him on the seat and ripped open his coat. He had a small Walther PPK in a shoulder-holster, a bunch of papers and passes in his inside and outside breast pockets, a wallet on his hip, a purse of coins, and some keys. It took me just over ten seconds to grab the lot, and I was sorry to have to leave the holster itself.

I wasn't being vindictive or money-hungry. It's just that a man without a franc on him takes more time getting his hard-luck story believed than one who can flash a roll of notes and start hiring help.

We stepped off the train not twenty seconds later than Maganhard.

I led the way down off the platform, along the passageway, and up to platform one and the station buffet. I'd still have liked to keep us in two separate parties for as long as we were travelling by train, but now it was more important to brief Maganhard and the girl again.

We sat down at a corner table, where he could keep his back to the world, and ordered coffee and rolls.

'Who was that man?' Maganhard wanted to know.

'I'm not sure, yet.' I was taking one piece of paper at a time out of my pockets, looking at it, and putting it away before I got out the next.

Miss Jarman asked: 'Did you kill this one?'

'No.'

Harvey chuckled. 'You hope. I didn't know you knew that Karate stuff – the knuckle punch.'

She said: 'What's Karate?'

'Ju-jitsu played dirty.'

Finally I found something: a French identity card. 'His name's Griflet, Robert Griflet. Policeman.'

Harvey frowned. 'French?'

'Surete. I thought it was something like that – him being alone, and so on. I think this explains it.' It was a letter of the to-whom-it-may-concern type, explaining that the bearer was an agent of the Sureteand asking everybody, to give him all the help they could, if they would be so kind. It was tactfully phrased, but for me the gun under his arm had rather spoiled the effect in advance.

I passed the letter round. The rest of the papers were a French driving licence, an international one, and normal everyday junk. Nothing to show what job he was on.

The waiter brought our coffee. Maganhard read the letter, grunted, and passed it back. I put it back in my pocket and said: 'Well, I hope that ends the episode of Robert Griflet, policeman. With luck, he might not wake up before Bern. But I'm afraid it means we've got to change our line again. We daren't take a train on through Bern now.'

'I hope we will not take any more trains,' Maganhard said stiffly. They seem to get us into more trouble. We can hire a car here.'

I shook my head. 'I don't want to do anything in Lausanne. Remember, that bloke Griflet's going to wake up and start spreading the word sooner or later – and the last place he saw us was Lausanne. He'll try and pick up our trail here. No – I think we'll take a train round to Montreux and start from there.'

Nobody seemed to like the idea much. Maganhard said: 'I am not on a guided tour of Switzerland, Mr Cane. We have only come sixty kilometres from Geneva, and Montreux is a dead end. It is round the end of the lake. Even if we get a car there, we will have to double back to reach the main road.'

'True. So I hope they won't expect us to be fools enough to go there. And there's a man there I rather want to meet.'

'We are not here for your social life, either! '

'It's only thanks to my social life that we've got this far. We're going to Montreux.'

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