The Cauldron (45 page)

'Byron, come to my office at once. Which means now.'

'I'll chuck the friggin' job in,' raged Brand.

'No, you won't. I pay you too much. In any case, no one ever resigns from AMBECO. They are fired - without a reference.'

'I have reported it to you,' Brand insisted.

'Now you're repeating yourself. Who has replaced Martinez as guard master?'

'Hogan,' Brand said bleakly.

Moloch again pressed a button on the intercom. A rough voice answered.

'Hogan,' Moloch said, 'I want you in my office immediately.'

In no time at all the door opened and a short heavily built man with wide shoulders and a large head, covered with red hair, appeared. His whole manner exuded aggressiveness but he addressed Moloch respectfully.

'Is there a problem, Chief?'

'I want the whole place sealed off. No one leaves or enters without my express permission until further notice. Double the guard force.'

'Yes, Chief. The only problem is Ethan left the building an hour ago in his car.'

'Why didn't you stop him? Did he say where he was going?'

For the first time Moloch was furious. But he had schooled himself to conceal his feelings. Lose your temper and you lose control.

'How could I stop him?' Hogan pleaded. He spread his large strangler's hands. 'Ethan is Head of the Technical Division, Head of the Armaments Division at Des Moines.'

'You have a point.' Moloch agreed. 'Anything else?'

'Somehow his mother bypassed the operator here and got through to him. I don't know what she said but he just took off - to go and see her at The Apex.'

Moloch threw up both hands in a gesture of irked resignation.

'I spend one day in San Francisco and everything begins to fall to pieces. Hogan, do as I told you, but when Ethan returns let him in, of course. Warn me immediately he does get back.'

As Hogan left, his stocky legs moving like pistons, Landis came in. The bald-headed man held a bulging file under his arm - as he always did to demonstrate his industry. Moloch thought he looked nervous. Landis adjusted his glasses twice before hauling up a chair at his chief's request. Moloch stared hard at the accountant, who adjusted his glasses once more. An air of tension gripped the room.

'Byron,' Moloch began, 'did you know half a million dollars has been stolen from the safe to which you hold the combination?'

'Half a million?' Landis stuttered. 'You mean in cash or bonds?'

'You didn't specify, Joel,' Moloch remarked, looking at Brand.

'Half a million in one-hundred-dollar bills. No bonds.'

'How do you explain it, Byron?' Moloch asked genially.

'I can't. They were there early this morning. I noticed

the stacks of bills when I went to the safe for confidential files. And I was, as always, careful to close the safe.'

'Did you see Martinez in that room?'

'Yes. He came in as I was leaving. I thought nothing of it. He uses the other safe in that room for his weapons.'

Brand leaned back in his chair, which creaked under his weight. He was smiling as though glad someone else had confirmed what he had said.

Take that smirk off your face, Joel.' Moloch said in a cold voice.

'Where would Martinez head for, assuming he has taken the money, which is pure speculation?'

'Mexico would be my guess.' Brand said offhandedly.

'You can both go.' Moloch said suddenly. 'Just don't attempt to leave the building. No, wait a minute, Joel.' He went on speaking when Landis had left. 'Joel, you have handled many millions of dollars, bribing senators and other key figures in Washington. The same applies to MPs and Cabinet Ministers in London who are in my pocket. Were you never tempted to cream a few thousand off the top before you handed over the money?'

'If I wanted more money I'd ask for it.' Brand flashed back at him. 'Don't forget I know enough to put you behind bars in either Washington or London for the rest of your life.'

'I wish you hadn't said that, Joel.'

'I apologize without reservation.' Brand said quickly. He leaned forward. 'You and I have worked together for years - we have been through bad times and good times. Always I have stood by your side. Naturally I resented your insinuations.'

'Erase them from your mind.' Moloch replied after a long pause. 'What you've said is true. Now leave me alone to think.'

After Brand had left his office Moloch stood up, went to the window which looked down on the raging sea. It reflected his mood. He made up his mind, went back to his desk, unlocked a drawer, took out a file marked Standish.

'Now what was the name of Linda Standish's partner at their San Francisco office?' he said to himself. 'Ah, here it is. Ed KellerRIGHT SQUARE BRACKET'

He pressed buttons on his phone. He didn't think he would be lucky. Few worked like he did and already it was evening.

'Keller here. Who is it?'

'Vincent Bernard Moloch speaking. You're still at your office.'

'Pretty big workload, sir.'

'Mr KellerRIGHT SQUARE BRACKET'

'Ed will do.'

'Ed, could you do me a great favour? A serious crime has been committed here today. Could you possibly drive down at once to see me at Black Ridge?'

"The answer is in the affirmative.'

'When might you arrive?'

'Let's see. A two-hour drive from here to the Monte-rey-Carmel area. I move behind the wheel. Then thirty minutes, say, to get to Black Ridge. If I start now.'

'Start now, please...'

33

The trip to Black Ridge didn't turn out as expected - it was very grim. They were approaching Big Sur when headlights began flashing behind them. Paula tensed, grabbed the Browning out of her shoulder bag. Newman slowed down, drove with one hand on the wheel as he hauled the Smith & Wesson out of its holster. It was at this moment that Marler called out.

'Don't panic. It's the BMW - ours. I think Alvarez is behind the wheel. Here he comes...'

Defying all the stringent rules about not overtaking on the coast road, Alvarez drove slowly past, waving to Newman to park in a lay-by ahead. Allowing Newman to pull in first, he dropped back, parking behind the Merc. He jumped out and spoke as Newman lowered his window.

'I was thinking about what you planned back at Mission Ranch. Decided to follow you. Butler and Nield are with me. This is a bad time of night to go near Black Ridge - well after dark. No traffic about. No one to witness what happens to you. May I travel with you?'

'Full house,' Paula called out.

'Maybe Marler would take over driving the BMW, staying close behind us. Then I could occupy his seat.'

'My pleasure,' Marler assured him, getting out. 'I'm always bored as a passenger. Prefer to drive...'

In a couple of minutes they were off again, the BMW driven forty feet or so behind the Merc. Alvarez made his apologies to Tweed.

'I hope you don't regard this as an intrusion, but I do know this area. By night as well as by day. Incidentally, the police back in Monterey are checking the juggernaut stopped by the roadblock - checking it for any trace of explosives. Trouble is I won't get the report. Not officially, anyway.'

'But unofficially?' queried Tweed.

'I may get a tip off. Later.'

'And we welcome your support,' Tweed told him.

They were approaching Black Ridge when from his rear seat Alvarez leaned forward. Searchlights were swivelling over the grounds behind the closed gates. Paula sensed something had disturbed him. He squinted, shielded his eyes against the lights, then stiffened.

'Drive on past, Newman.' he said urgently. 'Don't even slow down. Just keep on driving down the highway. They're on hill alert. The grounds crawling with armed guards, savage dogs. Something has happened.'

Newman obeyed his request, kept up the speed. Behind him Marler followed, also keeping moving. As they passed, Paula saw a large man directing the heavy force of guards, waving his arms. Joel Brand. In the back Alvarez heaved a high of relief.

"That mob looks trigger-happy. I wouldn't mess with them.'

They drove on and moonlight glowed on the savage sea. As they approached a great massif of rock projecting into the ocean, Alvarez touched Paula's arm. The massif reminded her of a small Gibraltar and a narrow road ran off the highway, then spiralled up the massif. A light like a great glowing eye on its summit flashed on and off.

"That is Big Sur Point,' Alvarez told her. 'As you see, it has a lighthouse on top. A very prominent landmark.'

'It's impressive.' Paula agreed.

They had driven further when Paula frowned, staring out of the window with her first-rate eyesight. She leaned closer to the window, gazing out to sea where the rollers swept in like an invading army. Then she was certain.

'Alvarez, there's a body coming in. Look! It just crested a wave-top. Keep watching. It's in a deep trough. There it is again. I'm sure I'm right.'

'I do believe you are,' Alvarez said slowly. 'It's coming in to Pfeiffer Beach. Newman, slow down, we'll come to a narrow road off to the right. You only go a short distance and there's a parking area. We leave the cars there and walk the rest of the way. It's supposed to be closed at sunset but we'll forget about that.'

They turned off the highway. Alvarez reached down, picked up off the floor a large canvas bag he had brought, looped it over his shoulder. They had parked when Paula asked Alvarez, 'What have you got inside that bag? Weapons?'

'Yes, and something more macabre. Not that I think we'll need it. The corpse will be smashed to pieces against the offshore stacks.'

'Stacks?'

'You'll see. I have a powerful torch. We'll need it.'

Butler stayed with the cars while Alvarez led the way on foot, flanked on one side by Tweed and on the other by Paula. His torch illuminated the path running under a canopy of cypress trees overhead. To their left was a dried-up riverbed. Alvarez illuminated it briefly with his torch.

'That's Pfeiffer Creek. Runs down from Sycamore Canyon on the far side of the highway.'

He had to hurry. Tweed was taking great strides, keeping up a cracking pace. Paula thought that had they not seen what was coming in, it would have seemed an enchanted glade. They reached the beach suddenly. No more cypresses. Only soft sand, difficult to trudge across. Alvarez switched off his torch because moonlight was illuminating an amazing scene and Paula gasped inwardly.

Just beyond the tide mark, massive rocks sheered up out of the sea, rocks which were pierced by large arches through which the violent ocean pounded in, broke on the beach. A fierce wind almost blew them off their feet. Tweed, coat flapping round him, pointed. Paula felt a chill which had nothing to do with the icy wind hurtling against Pfeiffer Beach, throwing up the soft sand like a dust storm.

A tall wave, cruising in, carried on its crest the body she had seen from the car. The crest soared on inside the arch, carrying its dead passenger, narrowly missing the rock faces on either side. The bizarre sight reached its climax as the wave plunged through the opening, crashed against the shore, throwing its corpse onto the beach.

Alvarez ran forward, a handkerchief tied round his nose and mouth, gesturing to Newman to adopt the same precautions as he threw him a pair of surgical gloves. He was already wearing gloves himself. Together, they hauled the waterlogged body higher up the beach. It seemed to Newman it weighed a ton, although the man they had dragged out of reach of the hungry sea was slim. Alvarez shone his torch on the face of the man who lay on his back. Paula gasped inwardly. It was the body of Luis Martinez.

'Stay back!' Tweed shouted at Paula. 'There could be infection.'

Out of his large canvas holdall Alvarez produced a roll of cloth which he spread out. It was a body bag. Between them, Newman and Alvarez laid the corpse inside the body bag, which Alvarez, immediately and with care, zipped up. It was a difficult task and Newman was breathing heavily as he followed Alvarez's example, taking off the gloves, throwing them into the sea. The two men thoroughly washed their hands at the edge of the water then took off the makeshift handkerchief masks and threw them after the gloves.

Alvarez walked over to where Tweed waited with Paula and Marler. He also was breathing heavily.