Goodbye California (19 page)

‘Worry about the other guy.’ Dunne hesitated. ‘Some news for you and your father, not all that good. Both shot FBI men were under heavy sedation during the night, but one’s clear now. He says that the first person shot last night was neither him nor his partner but Peggy. She got it through the left shoulder.’

‘No!’

‘I’m afraid so, boy. I know this agent well. He doesn’t make mistakes.’

‘But – but – if she’s wounded, I mean medical attention, hospital, she must have –’

‘Sorry, Jeff. That’s all we know. The kidnappers took her away, remember.’

Jeff made to speak, turned and ran from the office. He went to Delmino’s, the station officers’ favourite hang-out. Yes, Sergeants Ryder and Parker had been there. No, the barman didn’t know where they had gone.

Jeff drove the short distance to the station house. Parker was there along with Sergeant Dickson. Jeff said: ‘Seen my father?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘You know where he is?’

‘Yes. Again why?’

‘Just
tell
me!’

‘I’m not rightly sure I should.’ He looked at Jeff, saw the urgency and intensity and was not to know it was because of the news Jeff had just heard. He said reluctantly: ‘He’s at Chief Donahure’s. But I’m not sure –’ He stopped. Jeff had already gone. Parker looked at Dickson and shrugged.

Ryder said, almost conversationally: ‘Heard that my daughter has been kidnapped?’

‘No. I swear to God –’

‘All right. Any idea how anyone might have got hold of her address in San Diego?’

Donahure shook his head – but his eyes had flickered, just once. Ryder broke open the revolver: the hammer was lined up against an empty cylinder, one of two. He closed the gun, shoved the stubby finger of Donahure’s right hand through the trigger guard, held the Colt by barrel and butt and said: ‘On the count of three I twist both hands. One –’

‘I did, I did.’

‘How did you get it?’

‘Week or two ago. You were out for lunch and –’

‘And I’d left my address book in my drawer so you kind of naturally wrote down a few names and addresses. I really should break your finger for this. But you can’t sign a statement if I break your writing forefinger, can you?’

‘A statement?’

‘A statement?’

‘I’m not a law officer any more. It’s a citizen’s arrest. Just as legal. I arrest you, Donahure, for larceny, corruption, bribery, the acceptance of bribes – and for murder in the first degree.’

Donahure said nothing. His face, greyer than ever, had slumped between his sagging shoulders. Ryder sniffed the muzzle. ‘Fired recently.’ He broke open the gun. ‘Two bullets gone. We only carry five in a cylinder, so one’s been fired recently.’ He eased out one cartridge and scraped the tip with a nail. ‘And soft-nosed, just like the one that took off Sheriff Hartman’s head. A perfect match for this barrel, I’ll be bound.’ He knew
that a match-up was impossible, but Donahure either didn’t know or was too far gone to think. ‘And you left your fingerprints on the door handle, which was a very careless thing to do.’

Donahure said dully: ‘It was the man on the phone –’

‘Save it for the judge.’

‘Freeze,’ a high-pitched voice behind Ryder said. Ryder had survived to his present age by knowing exactly the right thing to do at the right time and at the moment the right thing appeared to be to do what he was told. He froze.

‘Drop that gun.’

Ryder obediently dropped the gun, a decision which was made all the easier for him by the fact that he was holding the gun by the barrel anyway and the cylinder was hinged out.

‘Now turn round nice and slow.’ Brought up on a strict diet of B movies, Ryder reflected, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous. He turned round – nice and slow. The visitor had a black handkerchief tied below his eyes, wore a dark suit, dark shirt, white tie and, of all things, a black fedora. B movies, late 1930s.

‘Donahure ain’t going to meet no judge.’ He’d the dialogue right, too. ‘But you’re going to meet your maker. No time for prayers, mister.’

‘You drop that gun,’ said a voice from the doorway.

Obviously the masked man was considerably younger than Ryder, for he didn’t know the right
thing to do. He whipped round and loosed off a snap shot at the figure in the doorway. In the circumstances it was a pretty good effort, ripping the cloth on the upper right sleeve of Jeff’s coat. Jeff’s reply was considerably more effective. The man in the mask folded in the middle like a collapsing hinge and crumpled to the floor. Ryder dropped to one knee beside him.

‘I tried for his gun-hand,’ Jeff said uncertainly. ‘Reckon I missed.’

‘You did. Didn’t miss his heart, though.’ Ryder plucked off the handkerchief mask. ‘Well. The shame of it all. Lennie the Linnet has gone riding off across the great divide.’

‘Lennie the Linnet?’ Jeff was visibly shaken.

‘Yes. Linnet. A song-bird. Well, wherever Lennie’s singing now you can take long odds that it won’t be to the accompaniment of a harp.’ Ryder glanced sideways, straightened, took the gun from Jeff’s lax hand and fired, all in seemingly slow motion. For the fifth time that night Donahure cried out in pain. The Colt he’d picked up from the floor spun across the room. Ryder said: ‘Do be quiet. You can still sign the statement. And to the charge of murder we’ll now add one of attempted murder.’

Jeff said: ‘One easy lesson, is that it?’

Ryder touched his shoulder. ‘Well, thanks, anyway.’

‘I didn’t mean to kill him.’

‘Shed no sad tears for Lennie. A heroin pusher. You followed me?’

‘Tried to. Sergeant Parker told me where you were. How did
he
get here?’

‘Ah, now. If you want Detective Sergeant Ryder at his brilliant best, ask him after the event. I thought our line was tapped so I phoned Parker to meet me at Delmino’s. Never occurred to me they’d put a stake-out there.’

Jeff looked at Donahure. ‘So that’s why you didn’t want me along. He ran into a truck?’

‘Self-inflicted injuries. Now on, you’re welcome along anytime. Get a couple of towels from the bathroom. Don’t want him to bleed to death before his trial.’

Jeff hesitated: he had to tell his father and actively feared for Donahure’s life. ‘Some bad news, Dad. Peggy was shot last night.’

‘Shot?’ The lips compressed whitely. Ryder’s eyes switched to Donahure, the grip on Jeff’s gun tightened, but he was still under his iron control. He looked back at Jeff. ‘Bad?’

‘Don’t know. Bad enough, I should think. Left shoulder.’

Get the towels.’ Ryder lifted the phone, got through to Sergeant Parker. ‘Come out here, will you, Dave? Bring an ambulance, Doc Hinkley’ – Hinkley was the police surgeon – ‘and young Kramer to take a statement. Ask Major Dunne to come. And, Dave – Peggy was shot last night. Through the shoulder.’ He hung up.

Parker passed on the requests to Kramer then went up to see Mahler. Mahler viewed him as he was viewing life at the moment, with a harassed and jaundiced eye.

Parker said: I’m going out to Chief Donahure’s place. Some trouble out there.’

‘What trouble?’

‘Something that calls for an ambulance.’

‘Who said so?’

‘Ryder.’

‘Ryder!’ Mahler pushed back his chair and rose. ‘What the hell is Ryder doing out there?’

‘Didn’t say. I think he wanted a talk with him.’

‘I’ll have him behind bars for this. I’ll take charge of this personally.’

‘I’d like to come, Lieutenant.’

‘You stay here. That’s an order, Sergeant Parker.’

‘Nothing personal, Lieutenant.’ Parker put his badge on the desk. ‘I’m not taking orders any more.’

All five of them arrived together – the two ambulance men, Kramer, Major Dunne and Dr Hinkley. As befitted the occasion Dr Hinkley was in the lead. A small wiry man with darting eyes, he was, if not exactly soured by life, at least possessed of a profoundly cynical resignation. He looked at the recumbent figure on the floor.

‘Good lord! Lennie the Linnet. A black day for America.’ He peered more closely at the white tie with the red-rimmed hole through it. ‘Heart damage of some kind. Gets them younger every day.
And Chief of Police Donahure!’ He crossed to where a moaning Donahure was sitting on his couch, his left hand tenderly cradling the blood-soaked towel round his right hand. None too gently, Hinkley unwrapped the towel. ‘Dear me. Where’s the rest of those two fingers?’

Ryder said: ‘He tried to shoot me. Through the back, of course.’

‘Ryder.’ Lieutenant Mahler had a pair of handcuffs ready. ‘I’m placing you under arrest.’

‘Put those things away and don’t make more a fool of yourself than you can help if you don’t want to be charged with obstructing the course of justice. I am making, I have made, a perfectly legal citizen’s arrest. The charges are larceny, corruption, bribery, the acceptance of bribes, attempted murder and murder in the first degree. Donahure will admit to all of them and I can prove all of them. Also, he’s an accessory to the wounding of my daughter.’

‘Your daughter shot?’ Oddly, this seemed to affect Mahler more than the murder accusation. He had put his handcuffs away. A disciplinary martinet, he was nonetheless a fair man.

Ryder looked at Kramer. ‘He has a statement to make, but as he’s suffering from a minor speech impairment right now I’ll make it for him and he’ll sign it. Give the usual warnings, of course, about legal rights, that his statement can be used in evidence, you know the form.’ It took Ryder only four minutes to make the statement on Donahure’s behalf, and by the time he had finished the damning
indictment there wasn’t a man in that room, Mahler included, who wouldn’t have testified that the statement had been voluntary.

Major Dunne took Ryder aside. ‘So fine, so you’ve cooked Donahure’s goose. It won’t have escaped your attention that you’ve also cooked your own goose. You can’t imprison a man without preferring charges and the law of the land says those charges must be made public’

‘There are times when I admire the Russian legal system.’

‘Quite. So Morro will know in a couple of hours. And he’s got Susan and Peggy.’

‘I don’t seem to have many options open. Somebody has to do something. I haven’t noticed that the police or the FBI or the CIA have been particularly active.’

‘Miracles take a little time.’ Dunne was impatient. ‘Meantime, they still have your family.’

‘Yes. I’m beginning to wonder about that. If they are in danger, I mean.’

‘Jesus! Danger? Course they are. God’s sake man, look at what happened to Peggy.’

‘An accident. They could have killed her if they came that close. A dead hostage is no good to anyone.’

‘I suppose I could call you a cold-blooded bastard but I don’t believe you are. You know something I don’t?’

‘No. You have all the facts that I have. Only I have this feeling that we’re being conned, that
we’re following a line that they want us to follow. I told Jablonsky last night that I didn’t think the scientists had been taken in order to force them to make a bomb of some kind. They’ve been taken for some other purpose. And if I don’t think that then I no longer think that the women were taken to force them to build a bomb. And not for a lever on me either – why should they worry about me in advance?’

‘What’s bugging you, Ryder?’

I’d like to know why Donahure has – had – those Kalashnikovs in his possession. He doesn’t seem to know either.’

‘I don’t follow you.’

‘Unfortunately, I don’t follow myself.’

Dunne remained in silent thought for some time. Then he looked at Donahure, winced at the sight of the battered face and said: ‘Who’s next in line for your kindly ministrations? LeWinter?’

‘Not yet. We’ve got enough to pull him in for questioning but not enough to hold him on the uncorroborated word of an unconvicted man. And unlike Donahure he’s a wily bird who’ll give away nothing. I think I’ll call on his secretary after an hour or two’s sleep.’

The phone rang. Jeff answered and held it out to Dunne, who listened briefly, hung up and said to Ryder: ‘I think you’ll have to postpone your sleep for a little. Another message from our friends.’

Delage was with a man the Ryders hadn’t seen before, a young man, fair-haired, broad, wearing a grey flannel suit cut loose to conceal whatever weaponry he was carrying and a pair of dark glasses of the type much favoured by Secret Service men who guard Presidents and heads of State.

‘Leroy,’ Dunne said. ‘San Diego. He’s liaising with Washington on LeWinter’s codes. He’s also in touch with the AEC plant in Illinois, checking on Carlton’s past contacts and has a team working on the lists of the weirdoes. Anything yet, Leroy?’

Leroy shook his head. ‘Late afternoon, hopefully.’

Dunne turned to Delage. ‘So what didn’t you want to tell me over the phone? What’s so hush-hush?’

‘Won’t be hush-hush much longer. The wire services have it but Barrow told them to sit on it. When the director tells people to sit on something,
it’s sat on.’ He nodded to a taperecorder. ‘We recorded this over the direct line from Los Angeles. Seems that Durrer of ERDA was sent a separate recording.’

He pressed a switch and a smooth educated voice began to speak, in English but not American English. ‘My name is Morro and I am, as many of you will know by this time, the person responsible for the San Ruffino reactor break-in. I have messages to you from some eminent scientists and I suggest you all listen very carefully. For your own sakes, please listen carefully.’ The tape stopped as Dunne raised a hand.

He said: ‘Anyone recognize that voice?’ Clearly no one did. ‘Anyone identify that accent? Would it give you any idea where Morro comes from?’

Delage said: ‘Europe? Asia? Could be any place. Could be an American with a phoney accent.’

‘Why don’t you ask the experts?’ Ryder said. ‘University of California. On one campus or another, anywhere between San Diego and Stanford, you’ll find some professor or lecturer who’ll recognize it. Don’t they claim to teach every major and most of the important minor languages in the world somewhere in this State?’

‘A point. Barrow and Sassoon may already have thought of it. We’ll mention it.’ He nodded to Delage who flipped the switch again.

A rasping and indignant voice said: ‘This is Professor Andrew Burnett of San Diego. It’s not
someone trying to imitate me – my voice-prints are in security in the University. This blackhearted bastard Morro –’ And so Burnett continued until he had finished his wrathful tirade. Dr Schmidt, who followed him on the tape, sounded just as furious as Burnett. Healey and Bramwell were considerably more moderate, but all four men had one thing in common – they were utterly convincing.

Dunne said to no one in particular: ‘We believe them?’

‘I
believe them.’ Delage’s certainty was absolute. ‘That’s the fourth time I’ve heard that played and I believe it more every time. You could tell they weren’t being coerced, under the influence of drugs, physical intimidation, anything like that. Especially not with Professor Burnett. You can’t fake that kind of anger. Provided, of course, that those four men are who they claim to be – and they have to be: they’ll be on TV and radio any time and there must be hundreds of colleagues, friends, students who can confirm their genuineness. A megaton? That’s the equivalent of a million tons of TNT, isn’t it? Downright nasty.’

Ryder said to Dunne: ‘Well, that’s part of the answer to what we were talking about back in Donahure’s house. To confirm the existence of those plans and scare the living daylights out of us. Us and everybody in California. They’re going to succeed, wouldn’t you say?’

Leroy said: ‘What gets me is that they haven’t given the faintest indication as to what they’re up to.’

‘That’s what’s going to get everyone,’ Ryder said. ‘That’s part of his psychological gambit. Scare the living daylights out of everyone.’

‘And speaking of scaring the living daylights, I’m afraid there is more to come.’ Dunne flicked the ‘On’ switch again and Morro’s voice came through once more.

‘A postscript, if you please. The authorities claim that the earthquake felt in the southern part of the State this morning came from White Wolf Fault and, as I have already said, this is a lie. As already said, I was responsible. To prove that the State authorities are lying, I will detonate another nuclear device at exactly ten a.m. tomorrow morning. The device is already in place in a site specially chosen so that I can have it under permanent surveillance: any attempt to locate or approach this device will leave me no alternative other than to detonate it by radio control.

‘People are advised not to approach within five miles of the site. If they do, I shall not be responsible for their lives. If they don’t, but are still foolish enough not to wear specially darkened lenses I shall not be responsible for their sight.

‘The chosen site is in Nevada, about twelve miles northwest of Skull Peak, where Yucca Flat adjoins Frenchman’s Flat.

‘This device is in the kiloton range, of the approximate destructive power of those which destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki.’

Delage switched off. After about thirty seconds’ silence, Dunne said thoughtfully: ‘Well, that’s a nice touch, I must say. Going to use the United States’ official testing ground for his purposes. As you ask, what the devil is the man up to? Does anyone here believe what we’ve just heard?’

‘I do,’ Ryder said. ‘I believe it absolutely. I believe it’s in position, I believe it will be detonated at the time he says it will, and I believe there is nothing we can do to stop him. I believe all you can do is to prevent as many rubber-neckers as possible from going there and having themselves incinerated or radiated or whatever. A traffic problem of sorts.’

Jeff said: ‘For a traffic problem you require roads. No major roads there. Dirt-tracks, that’s all.’

‘Not a job for us,’ Dunne said. ‘Army, National Guard, tanks, armoured cars, jeeps, a couple of Phantoms to discourage air-borne snoopers – there should be no problems in cordoning the area off. For all I know everybody might be more interested in running in the other direction. All that concerns me is why, why, why? Blackmail and threats, of course, but again, what, what, what? A man feels so damned helpless. Nothing you can do, nothing you can go on.’

‘I know what I’m going to do,’ Ryder said. I’m going to bed.’

The Sikorsky cargo helicopter landed in the courtyard of the Adlerheim but none of those seated in the refectory paid it any attention: the helicopter, which ferried in nearly all the supplies for the Adlerheim, was constantly coming and going, and one just learned to live with its deafening clatter. That apart, the few guards, the hostages, Morro and Dubois were considerably more interested in what was taking place on the big TV screen before them. The announcer, arms folded in a form of noble resignation and his features arranged with a gravity appropriate to the occasion, had just finished the playing of the tape-recordings of the four physicists and had embarked upon Morro’s postscript. The pilot of the helicopter, clad in a red plaid mackinaw, entered and approached Morro but was waved to a seat: Morro was not concerned with listening to his own voice but appeared to derive interest and amusement from listening to the comments and watching the expressions of the others.

When Morro had finished his postscript, Burnett turned to Schmidt and said loudly: ‘Well, what did I tell you, Schmidt? Man’s a raving lunatic’

The remark seemed to cause Morro no offence: nothing ever seemed to. ‘If you are referring to me, Professor Burnett, and I assume you are,
that’s a most uncharitable conclusion. How do you arrive at it?’

‘In the first place you don’t have an atom bomb –’

‘And even worse, that’s a stupid conclusion. I never claimed it was an atom bomb. It’s an atomic device. Same effect, though. And eighteen kilo-tons is not to be regarded lightly.’

Bramwell said: ‘There is just your word –’

‘At one minute past ten tomorrow morning you and Burnett will doubtless have the courtesy to apologize to me.’

Bramwell was no longer so certain. ‘Even if such a thing did exist what would be the point in detonating it out in the desert?’

‘Simple, surely. Just to prove to people that I have nuclear explosive power available. And if I can prove that, what is to prevent them from believing that I have unlimited nuclear armament power available? One creates a climate first of uncertainty, then of apprehension, then of pure fear, finally of outright terror.’

‘You have more of those devices available?’

‘I shall satisfy the scientific curiosity of you and your three physicist colleagues this evening.’

Schmidt said: ‘What in God’s name are you trying to play at, Morro?’

‘I am not trying, and I am not playing, as the citizens of this State and indeed of the whole world will soon know.’

‘Aha! And therein lies the psychological nub of the matter, is that it? Let them imagine what they like. Let them brood on the possibilities. Let them imagine the worst. And then tell them that the worst is worse than they ever dreamed of. Is that it?’

‘Excellent, Schmidt, quite splendid. I shall include that in my next broadcast. “Imagine what you like. Brood on the possibilities. Imagine the worst. But can you imagine that the worst is worse than you ever dreamed of?” Yes. Thank you, Schmidt. I shall take all the credit for myself, of course.’ Morro rose, went to the helicopter pilot, bent to listen to a few whispered words, nodded, straightened and approached Susan. ‘Come with me, please, Mrs Ryder.’

He led her along a passage. She said, curiously: ‘What is it, Mr Morro? Or do you want to keep it as a surprise for me? A shock, perhaps? You seem to delight in shocking people. First you shock us all by bringing us here, then you shock the four physicists with your hydrogen weapon plan, now you shock millions of people in the State. Does it give you pleasure to shock people?’

Morro considered. ‘No, not really. The shocks I have administered so far have been either inevitable or calculated to further my own designs. But a warped and sadistic pleasure, no. I’ve just been wondering how to tell you. You
are
in for a shock, but not a serious one, for there’s nothing serious to be worried about. I have your
daughter here, Mrs Ryder, and she’s been hurt. Not badly. She’ll be all right.’

‘My daughter! Peggy? Here? What in God’s name is she doing here? And how hurt?’

For answer, Morro opened a door in one side of the passageway. Inside was a small private hospital ward. There were three beds but only one in use. The occupant was a pale-faced girl with long dark hair, in which point lay the only difference from her remarkable resemblance to her mother. Her lips parted and brown eyes opened wide in astonishment as she stretched out her right arm: the bandages round her left shoulder were clearly visible. Mother and daughter exchanged the exclamations, endearments, murmurs and sympathies which mothers and daughters might be expected to exchange in such circumstances while Morro considerately maintained a discreet distance, using his right hand mutely to bar the further progress of a man who had just entered: the newcomer wore a white coat, wore a stethoscope round his neck and carried a black bag. Even without the trappings he had indefinably the word ‘doctor’ written large upon him.

Susan said: ‘Your shoulder, Peggy. Does it hurt?’

‘Not now. Well, a little.’

‘How did it happen?’

‘I was shot. When I was kidnapped.’

‘I see. You were shot when you were kidnapped.’ Susan squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head and looked at Morro. ‘You, of course.’

‘Mummy.’ The girl’s face showed a complete lack of understanding. ‘What is all this? Where am I? What hospital –’

‘You’re not in hospital. This is the private residence of Mr Morro here. The man who broke into the San Ruffino refinery. The man who kidnapped you. The man who kidnapped me.’

‘You!’

Susan said bitterly: ‘Mr Morro is not a piker. He doesn’t do things on a small scale. He’s holding seven others hostage too.’

Peggy slumped back on her pillows. ‘I just don’t understand.’

The doctor touched Morro’s arm. ‘The young lady is overtired, sir.’

‘I agree. Come, Mrs Ryder. Your daughter’s shoulder requires attention. Dr Hitushi here is a highly qualified physician.’ He paused and looked at Peggy. ‘I am genuinely sorry about this. Tell me, did you notice anything peculiar about either of your attackers?’

‘Yes.’ Peggy gave a little shiver. ‘One of them – a little man – didn’t have a left hand.’

‘Did he have anything at all?’

‘Yes. Like two curved fingers, only they were made of metal, with rubber tips.’

‘I’ll be back, soon,’ Susan said and permitted Morro to guide her by the elbow out in the passageway where she angrily shook her arm free. ‘Did you have to do that to the poor child?’

‘I regret it extremely. A beautiful child.’

‘You don’t wage war on women.’ Morro should have shrivelled on the spot, but didn’t. ‘Why bring her here?’

‘I don’t hurt women or permit them to be hurt. This was an accident. I brought her here because I thought she’d be better with her mother with her.’

‘So you shock people, you tell lies and now you’re a hypocrite.’ Again Morro remained unshrivelled.

‘Your contempt is understandable, your spirit commendable, but you’re wrong on all three counts. I also brought her here for proper medical treatment.’

‘What was wrong with San Diego?’

‘I have friends there, but no medical friends.’

‘I would point out, Mr Morro, that they have fine hospitals there.’

‘And I would point out that hospitals would have meant the law. How many small Mexicans do you think there are in San Diego with a prosthetic appliance in place of a left hand? He’d have been picked up in hours and have led them to me. I’m afraid I couldn’t have that, Mrs Ryder. But I couldn’t leave her with my friends either because there she would be lonely, with no one capable of looking after her wound, and that would have been psychologically and physically very bad for her. Here she has you and skilled medical attention. As soon as the doctor has finished treating her I’m sure he’ll permit her to be wheeled to your suite to stay there with you.’

Susan said: ‘You’re a strange man, Mr Morro.’ He looked at her without expression, turned and left.