The Unbegotten (6 page)

‘Good God!' exclaimed Maddern.

‘And when I began to enquire I ran into trouble,' went on Palfrey.

‘Such as broken heads?'

‘Not exactly,' Palfrey answered slowly. ‘There is some kind of invisible force—please don't laugh—which exerts pressure at awkward times. I was once pushed over a cliff when no one at all was in sight. Another time I was pushed in front of a moving car. I don't yet know the nature of this force but I think I know its significance,' Palfrey added.

‘You were recognised, and someone didn't want you to investigate,' remarked Maddern. ‘I—ah—I thought Z5 was a very large international organisation. I didn't think you took an active part in the sense of being a leg-man, or—' Maddern broke off. ‘Sorry. I don't mean to be insulting. But
isn't
this all rather odd?'

‘Very,' agreed Palfrey. ‘Although the picture of me sitting in an electronically controlled operations room in London and keeping in touch by remote control isn't exactly a true picture, either. I came here myself because four Z5 agents who were sent here a week ago all died in a car which went out of control. The driver was so expert that loss of control must have been induced; perhaps by this unidentified force. The point is, there comes a time when you can't let other men die for you. I'm here in person because I hope to draw the murderer's fire—or the force itself. I know one thing,' Palfrey went on, in a cold voice. ‘A young woman, much like the Sue you know and dressed in the same way, was near the scene every time.'

It was on the tip of Maddern's tongue to say ‘I don't believe it,' but he checked himself. They stayed as they were, Maddern standing, Palfrey looking up at him. Maddern was seeing Sue's lovely elfin face in his mind's eye.

 

 

Palfrey looked up into the other man's face, and studied it feature by feature. Maddern was a surprise in many ways, not least in his appearance. He was too plump and too pale but had fine brown eyes and a well-shaped mouth even if his chin did recede so much that it was lost in the fleshy jowl. The way he had acted at the hospital and the way he had behaved here showed him unmistakably for a man of rare decisiveness and exceptional skill. He undoubtedly had a chip on his shoulder, and he was unhappy chiefly because he was lonely.

He, Palfrey, understood loneliness only too well.

What Palfrey most liked about Maddern was his quickness of mind, coupled with his shrewdness. He reached most conclusions much faster than most men, seemed capable of seeing through all the incidental trivia to the heart of a problem or a situation.

He asked, ‘Had you seen Susan before?'

‘I saw her in my garden, climbing an apple tree, for the first time,' Maddern answered.

‘Have you ever caught sight of her before that?'

‘I don't understand you.'

‘Have you caught a passing glimpse of her in Middlecombe, for instance?'

‘No,' answered Maddern flatly. ‘What are you wondering about? Whether she's been here for some time or whether she came because you were here?'

‘Yes.'

‘It looks as if she came just for you or your men,' said Maddern. ‘Are you sure she was involved in the death of your agents?'

‘Yes.'

‘How
can
you be?' demanded Maddern, sceptically.

‘She's very lovely, isn't she,' said Palfrey. ‘It's hard to believe that anyone like her could hate and kill. Isn't that in your mind?'

‘She is sick,' Maddern stated, simply.

‘I think you're right. But that doesn't make her any the less dangerous.'

‘Oh, no,' agreed Maddern. ‘I saw her shoot at the men in the garden. She is murderously inclined all right, and from the way she behaved I would say she is full of hate. And there's hysteria with it, and I suspect she's psychopathic. Sick, as I say. She needs to have treatment and she needs to be kept under observation. However, that doesn't answer my question. How can you be sure she was involved?'

‘I am absolutely sure after what has happened here,' Palfrey answered. He hesitated before going on, ‘We had reports of two or three young women arriving in the West Country by a form of rocket. At first we were inclined to dismiss the story as another version of the flying saucer legend, but we investigated. Two of my agents were already in the area, finding out what they could about the barrenness. I assigned them to the rocket women. They found three—the one they called Sue and two others. Each girl, when approached, went berserk: you saw Sue go berserk today. They fought off my agents who were taken completely by surprise.' Palfrey paused again, looking very sombre; when he went on, Maddern sensed and could understand the fear in him. ‘In her rage one of them said that the whole human race would die out.'

Maddern ejaculated, ‘My God.'

‘Yes,' Palfrey said, sombrely. ‘Well, the “accidents” followed, this curious invisible pressure or force. And once I came down here the attacks were stepped up. I've come to believe the girls and the way they reached the area means that they see me as a threat to whoever is responsible for the barrenness. The message from your mysterious man suggests the same thing. But—' Palfrey broke off.

‘What?' asked Maddern, after what seemed an interminable time.

‘No one who knows me or Z5 could possibly expect the warning to have any effect. It was almost naive.'

‘I see what you mean,' Maddern said gruffly. ‘And I see why you can't take risks with Sue. She's your one clue, isn't she?'

‘Yes,' Palfrey answered. ‘The one clue. Well!' He became more brisk as he asked, ‘How long will she be under sedation?'

‘Probably another four or five hours.'

‘What exactly did this man on the telephone say?'

‘He told me not to allow you to talk to her. And he said that she mustn't go away with you.'

‘Is that really all he said?'

‘Yes. There was no overt threat, only an implied one. Do you know the man?'

‘No,' answered Palfrey. ‘It's the first time anyone has come into the open, if we can call that coming into the open, except for the girls. If you'd describe exactly what happened, from the moment he started to speak, I would be grateful.'

Maddern felt a little impatient but controlled himself and described precisely how the man had spoken, how he had sounded, and he remembered every word. When he finished, Palfrey said musingly, ‘It sounds to me as if he might have been playing for time, after being shaken by Sue's capture. It's a remarkable thing,' he added, ‘but men who think they have irresistible power in their hands become so out of touch with reality, that whenever they run up against effective opposition or a defeat, they lose their heads.'

‘You make it sound as if such men are two-a-penny,' Maddern remarked. ‘The question is, what are you going to do?'

‘I know what I would like to do,' said Palfrey.

‘What?'

‘Keep her here.'

‘What good would that do?'

‘You could begin to treat her when she came round.'

‘I'm
no psychiatrist.'

‘You aren't far off,' Palfrey said. ‘Is there a good psychiatrist in Middlecombe?'

Maddern hesitated, now being forced to think of two things at once, and wanting to give all his attention to the girl. He was fascinated by her. Even now it was hard to believe that a girl so delicate, so fragile-looking, could fight like a wildcat. He wanted to find out more about her, wanted to help her. This was simply part of his nature; he was a doctor and a healer by instinct and character as well as by training, but there was something more than that in his attitude towards this girl whom he did not know.

‘Yes,' he said at last. ‘Congleton.'

‘Would he help?' asked Palfrey.

Maddern considered the question and then answered, ‘You mean, would he take personal risks for a patient?'

Palfrey actually laughed.

‘You go devastatingly straight to the point. Yes. Would he?'

‘I should think so,' answered Maddern. ‘I'd have to explain this particular risk.'

‘I wouldn't object,' Palfrey said. ‘Do you yourself fully understand it?'

‘Oh, yes,' answered Maddern, without hesitation. ‘I might be pushed under a tractor by this invisible force any time!'

He laughed, in turn. ‘I think that's one of my chief troubles, I never have a chance to take a risk, and I'm a pioneer by nature!'

He stood very close to Palfrey, looking down intently, while Palfrey returned his gaze with the same intentness. He looked much better. The pain and the weariness had gone from his eyes, and his cheeks had regained their healthy tan.

‘Well?'

‘Do I understand that you think that there is a man, or there are men, who have turned this and two other areas barren? That there are no children in the womb and so, in these parts of the world at least, there could be a gradual end of life?'

‘It could happen.'

‘And a man, a human being, is responsible?'

‘I think so.'

‘And he could spread the barrenness throughout the land?'

‘Obviously there is danger that he could,' Palfrey said. ‘Until we find who is doing it, and how we don't know for sure.'

‘If this is done by human agency, then someone has the power to control the birthrate. So, he can exert absolute control over man's destiny.' Maddern backed off a foot or two but did not look away.
‘Is
that what you mean?'

It was exactly what Palfrey meant and feared; it could not have been put more succinctly. This man had a mind of rare quality, rare positiveness. It was almost wrong to risk losing it in the present circumstances. There was great intentness in Maddern, too; his whole body seemed to be on edge.

‘Yes,' Palfrey said, at last. ‘That is exactly what I mean.'

‘Then I will help in every way I can,' Maddern said simply.

‘The risks—' began Palfrey.

‘I don't care about the risks. Apart from anything else, this would really give me something to live for, even if I lived only for a few days. I'd like to talk to Sue before calling Congleton. May I?'

‘Don't lose any more time than you can help,' urged Palfrey.

‘If you keep talking nonsense, I shall doubt whether you really want my help,' Maddern said, as if anger were returning.

It's a pity he's so touchy, Palfrey thought; it could be his Achilles' heel. But he smiled and answered mildly, ‘Well, you shouldn't doubt it. You could even be grateful for the chance. It's not every day a country G.P. gets a chance to influence the future of humankind!' He paused, half expecting a sharp retort, but Maddern took that reproach without any show of resentment. ‘The house will have to be surrounded. C.I.D. Special Branch men will be both inside and outside. Your housekeeper will probably hate it, and there's no telling how long it will last.'

For the first time, Maddern's expression seemed to brighten in delight, and he gave a deep, pleased chuckle.

‘I can't imagine anything that would please Bertha Witherspoon more than to have a lot of young men about both night and day. I've a number of calls to make. May I make them?'

‘Yes indeed. The more normal your movements the less suspicious our friend with the soft voice will be,' Palfrey replied. ‘And I must be going.' He sprang to his feet, very lithe, looking not only better but younger. ‘I'll arrange for the watch,' he promised. ‘Will you wait until more men arrive, and then meet me at Middlecombe Police Station?'

‘Yes,' Maddern said.

 

Within half an hour, six men were on the premises, two of them outside the door of the surgery, two in the garden near the surgery window and two moving freely about the house. And Maddern, after a word with Smith, who was in charge, followed after Palfrey.

 

Palfrey left Hallows End some time before the C.I.D. men arrived and drove in a closed Allard towards the local police headquarters. The Middlecombe Police Station was the local headquarters of the Corneshire County Constabulary, a modern building on the outskirts of the town. He was preceded by a local police car and followed by another. Being in the middle of a small procession did not appeal to him.

This was as bizarre a case as he could remember; more frightening, more horrifying than any he had known. Maddern had seen right through to the heart of the matter. If this was the work of some human agency, then that agency could exert absolute control over mankind's destiny, eventually over human behaviour. This was control over life and death in a way never suspected before. It was control over
birth
and so over all of human life. If someone wanted to wipe out mankind . . .

He pushed the thought aside as he walked up the steps to the police station, and then up an open staircase to the Chief Superintendent's office. He shivered, despite the warmth of a room lit by the sun through a huge window. The desk, set across a corner, was empty but a man came from an adjoining office.

‘Mr. King won't be a few minutes, sir. Please take a chair.'

‘Thanks,' said Palfrey.

But he went to the window, shading his eyes against the sun with his hand. Beyond was a small square of old, timbered buildings and weathered brick walls; middle seventeenth century beyond any doubt.

What would happen if there were no more births?

‘Stop it,' he said aloud, and almost savagely. He swung round from the window and as he did so, heard a man hurrying up the staircase, saying, ‘I saw him come in.'

‘But Dr. Simister—'

The policeman who called out to Simister broke off. Simister's head and shoulders appeared suddenly at the open staircase. A policeman wearing uniform and a helmet was a few steps behind him, and behind him, came Maddern. Simister glanced into this room, caught sight of Palfrey, and exclaimed, ‘Here he is!'

‘Dr. Simister—' the policeman began.

Simister said stormily, ‘Palfrey—you must be mad!'

‘I've been told so on occasion,' Palfrey said mildly. ‘What makes you think so?'

‘To come and put the fear of God into us like that!'

‘The fear of death, don't you mean?' Palfrey asked.

‘You
must
be mad! Every doctor who left the hospital this morning was shaken to his vitals.'

Palfrey repressed the obvious retort, and said, ‘And has need to be.'

Simister now stood in front of him, wild-eyed, a striking-looking man so much more attractive to look at than Maddern.

‘They'll go round and spread the story that every woman in this part of the world is barren!'

‘Well,' Palfrey said coldly. ‘Isn't that what it looks like?'

‘No, they can't be. They—'

Simister broke off, as two men appeared from the passage. One, tall, massive, almost prophet-like, was Chief Superintendent King of the Middlecombe Police. The other was a small, middle-aged man who wore
pince nez,
the nosepiece fastened together by cotton twisted round and round. He had a button of a nose and a button of a mouth and his cheeks looked like dry leather.

‘Dr. Simister!' exclaimed King.

Simister rounded on him.

‘You've got to stop Palfrey,' he cried. ‘You've got to stop him from spreading alarm and despondency. What he says can't be true, it's impossible! You've got to—'

Suddenly, Simister broke off, staring at the smaller man as if he hadn't noticed him before. Now, he seemed appalled. Palfrey moved back a little, self-effacingly, to watch the others without playing a direct part in this little tragicomedy.