The Cauldron (60 page)

'I'm guessing,' Tweed warned him.

'And in the past you've shown yourself to be a good guesser.'

Marler was getting into his car when Paula, in search of Tweed, saw him. Curious as to where he could be off to at this time of night she went over to him.

'And where might you be off to?'

'Goin' fishin'.'

* * * *

Paula was just disappearing round the corner to the terrace as Marler zoomed off when she heard someone coming out of the hotel. Pressing herself against the wall, she watched. Grenville hurried across the courtyard, got into his car, backed it and proceeded slowly up the drive. Seconds later Butler, who had dined with Nield, ran out, dived behind the wheel of his car, drove off.

Wearing her short fur coat, Paula pulled out a pair of kid gloves, was putting them on before joining Tweed on the terrace when Maurice came out, went to his car, started up the engine and in turn disappeared. 'What the hell is going on?' she said to herself.

She turned to go, heard the door to the lounges open yet again. Nield ran out, slipped inside his car and vanished up the drive. Her head was spinning as she walked up to Tweed, told him what she had just seen.

'It was like something out of a film,' she ended.

'Which means Butler and Nield are on top form, despite enjoying a good bottle of wine between them.'

'On top form to do what?'

To carry out my orders. Butler is shadowing Grenville and Nield is shadowing Maurice. It's logical to presume that now Moloch is back the spy will contact him at Mullion Towers. Some time tonight we'll know who the spy is.'

'Vanity's car has disappeared from the yard,' Paula reported.

'I see,' said Tweed grimly.

When they arrived at Mullion Towers Moloch and Heather were greeted by a short, squat woman with grey hair and fierce-looking eyes. Her mouth above her squarish jaw was a thin line. At the front entrance she gave Heather a brief hostile stare, then her mouth cracked into what Heather presumed must be a smile.

'This is Mrs Drayton, the housekeeper,' Moloch explained. 'Drayton, meet my new assistant. Heather Lang.'

'You'll want your coffee, sir,' Drayton said, ignoring the new assistant.

'In my office, please. We have a lot of work to do. The radio op. is on duty?'

'Carson is always on duty.'

Leading the way, Moloch ran swiftly up a wide curving staircase from the spacious entrance hall to the first floor landing. He pointed to a door.

"That's the powder room if you'd like to use it. My office is the one with green baize cloth on the outside...'

Seating himself behind his desk in the small room -Drayton had already switched on all the lights - he opened a file. The windows were uncurtained. Moloch felt shut in if they were closed after dark. He had unlocked the handcuff attached to his briefcase, had perched the briefcase by the side of his chair when Heather walked in.

'I'm ready for work.'

'First, I'm expecting a visitor later this evening. When they arrive I'll want to see them privately. You can go to the communications room, two doors along on the opposite side of the corridor. Wait there until I ask you to come back. You can get to know the radio op., Carson. Unlike Drayton, he's good-humoured.'

'I don't think Drayton likes me. Not that it matters.'

'She's never liked any of my assistants. Some elderly ladies like to think they're running the show, but Drayton is very reliable. Take no notice of her.'

'That shouldn't be difficult.'

As he spoke Moloch had been scribbling a message on a radio pad. He handed it to Heather.

'You can read it. Then take it to Carson for transmission to the
Venetia
.'

Not expected to sail for two weeks. Keep the system running. All hands to remain on board. No shore leave. VB.

'So we shall be here for quite a while,' Heather observed.

'On the contrary, we will be sailing very shortly. That message means the opposite of what it says. The skipper will understand. I expect the signal to be intercepted by GCHQ at Cheltenham.'

'GCHQ?'

"The government signals station. It listens in to all radio transmission. Now we're in Britain I have to assume all our radio messages are recorded by that outfit.'

'I'll take it along now ...'

Waiting until she had gone, Moloch pressed buttons on his phone. He was calling Nansidwell. When one of the staff answered he asked to speak to one of the guests urgently, giving a name. When the guest came to the phone Moloch's order was brief.

'Get over to my HQ here when you safely can tonight.'

He put down the phone, stood up and stared out of a window into the night. There was a different atmosphere about Mullion Towers and it bothered him. He had never liked Joel Brand but he had always felt secure with Brand in charge of security. Now there were no guards left.

Normally, Brand would have brought a large team of men back with him. They had all been wiped out in California. It gave him an eerie sensation to be alone in the large mansion with only Mrs Drayton and Heather.

The thought crossed his mind that he could have summoned a team from the Venetia.lde rejected the idea. It was vital that everyone aboard remained on the ship. Any sign of men coming ashore, making their way to Mullion Towers, might draw attention to him.

He went to a large cupboard, opened the doors. Inside were various clothes, including some outlandish ones. He put on a check peaked cap, then a shabby old raincoat. Looking at himself in a mirror he was surprised at the transformation in his appearance. At that moment Heather returned.

'Oh, I'm sorry.' she began, 'I was looking forRIGHT SQUARE BRACKET'

Then she stopped, staring at the figure in the peaked cap who was gazing back at her.

'VB! I scarcely recognized you.'

'You've said the right thing. The opposition may be out there. Instead of riding in the Rolls to the harbour we shall use the old Ford Escort in the garage. I would like you to drive it when we leave. Take only one case - you can buy what you like when we reach Beirut.'

'How do we reach the ship from the waterfront?'

'A large launch will be waiting to take us out to the
Venetia
. We go aboard as inconspicuously as possible when the time comes.'

While talking, Moloch divested himself of the raincoat and cap, putting them back into the cupboard. He was glad to observe that Heather accepted this strange development as just part of her job. She was probably the coolest of all the assistants he had hired. Moloch had a shrewd eye for a highly competent woman who, in return for a big salary, would give him loyalty.

'It sounds like good organization to me,' Heather commented. 'And Mrs Drayton has informed me dinner is ready. She said she hoped we wouldn't wait all night when she'd taken the trouble to cook a hot meal.'

"Then let's not wait. The message was sent off by Carson?'

'He sent it as soon as I handed it to him.'

As Moloch descended the curving staircase he found the unnatural silence disturbing. Up to now there would have been guards to greet him respectfully, some of them acting as servants. His footsteps, and those of Heather following him, echoed as he started to cross the woodblock floor of the entrance hall.

Feeling rather stupid, he checked the locks and chains on the heavy front door. What was there to worry about? But for years, once he left his office Moloch had been surrounded with staff, many of them armed. He crossed the hall, entered the large panelled dining room, sat down at one end of the long dining table. He noticed Heather's place was laid at the far end.

'Come and sit next to me,' he told her.

'Does that mean I have to change the seating arrangement?' barked Mrs Drayton who had just come into the room carrying a tureen.

'It does.' Moloch snapped.

'If you'd told me to start with it would have saved time. Is this the way you want me to serve meals in future?'

'It is.'

No point in telling Drayton that this was probably the last meal he would ever eat at Mullion Towers. He must remember to leave her an envelope with money and a note saying her services would no longer be required. He wondered how much Brand used to pay her.

By his side against his chair rested the briefcase he had brought down with him from his office. He only felt safe with it close to him - it was his passport to untold riches in the Middle East.

Heather sensed his unease in the large dining room. She chatted to him, made him join in the conversation. There was a strange atmosphere in the house, she was thinking, but she took care not to refer to it. Why did she feel she was participating in the Last Supper?

They had just finished the meal, were drinking coffee, when the doorbell rang. Drayton, who had just poured more coffee, was about to hurry to the front door when Moloch spoke.

"That will be a visitor I'm expecting. I'll answer the door. You clear up in here. Heather has to send a message from the radio room.'

47

Tweed had become so restless at Nansidwell that Paula had persuaded him to talk to her in her room away from the guests in the lounge who were chattering like magpies about nothing.

The first thing he did when they had entered the room was to go over to the window. Again he focused his glasses on the
Venetia
and the surrounding waters. Paula joined him by his side, placed her hand over the lenses.

'Enough is enough. Sit down in that armchair. I asked the head waiter downstairs to bring us up more coffee.'

"Thank you.'

'Now.' She perched on the arm of his chair. 'I've rarely seen you so on edge. What's it all about?'

'When did Vanity go off in her car?'

'I've no idea. It must have been after dinner. I noticed her car was gone when I told you before.'

'Where is Newman?'

'Again, I've no idea. He may have gone for a walk.'

'Without telling me? That's not like him. I saw his Merc, is still parked outside.'

'Is that all that's worrying you?' she asked softly.

'No. Moloch has to be stopped from leaving the country. I don't care how we achieve that. Look, I have to call Howard. No one does the right thing when I'm absent.'

At that moment the waiter arrived with more coffee. He poured for both of them. It seemed to Tweed that he was taking for ever to perform this simple function,

although actually he was simply providing them with the normal excellent service they had experienced at the hotel.

Tweed reached for the phone as soon as they were alone. He got through to Monica, who immediately transferred him to Howard. Tweed thought it significant that Howard was still at Park Crescent .at this late hour. Normally he went off to his club for a drink in the evenings.

'Tweed here. Look, Howard, something drastic has to be doneRIGHT SQUARE BRACKET'

'Is this a safe line?' Howard interrupted. 'Where are you calling from?'

'From where we're staying. Nansidwell Country Hotel. Surely Monica has informed you.'

'Yes, she has. Then I can't discuss anything with you.'

'Why the hell not?'

'Call me from a public phone box.'

'Oh, didn't you know? I carry them around with me in my coat pocket!'

Paula watched as Tweed replaced the phone with such care she knew only will-power had prevented him from slamming it down. She edged his cup of coffee closer to him.

'What happened?'

"The pompous fool clammed up on me.'

"Then it had to be something he could only talk to you about on a safe line. You're the one who is usually so careful about security.'

'You're right, of course.' Tweed agreed, then sipped coffee.

'We could drive to that phone box in Mawnan Smith,' she suggested.

'It may be too late then.' The significance of what she had just said suddenly struck him. 'We haven't any transport.'

'Yes, we have. Newman gave me a spare key to the Merc, a long time ago. In case of emergency.'