The Cauldron

by Colin Forbes

  He had just thanked her when the phone rang. Paula automatically picked it up.

  'Could you please repeat that?' she requested. "Then I'll see if Mr Tweed is available. Thank you.'

  She turned to Tweed, her hand over the mouthpiece while she spoke.

  'It's Hoarse Voice. Monica told me about him.'

  'I'll take it.'

  Tweed suddenly was alert, took the phone from her, gave his name and listened for several minutes without speaking. The conversation closed when Tweed spoke for the first time.

  "Thank you. I'm grateful - very - for that data.'

  "That was the mysterious Waltz.' Paula commented. 'Monica swore me to secrecy when I took a call from him and I was alone in the office at Park Crescent. He refused to say a word when I told him he must have got a wrong number. Later Monica warned me about the caller she had nicknamed Hoarse Voice. Sounds as though he smokes a lot.'

  'Maybe.' Tweed paused. 'I've just been warned that time is running out. Whatever project VB is working on should soon be ready for launching. We may. have arrived too late.'

  Paula called Room Service, ordered coffee. She could sense that Tweed was very worried, which was unlike him. When the coffee arrived she poured two cups, sat in a chair close to him, started talking.

  'How did you know Maurice had arrived home safely? When you told Grenville?'

  'Butler and Nield arrived soon after us. They're upstairs in two smaller rooms. I saw Harry give me a thumbs-up sign. That meant he had delivered the drunken package.'

  'If Maurice was drunk.'

  'Why do you say that?'

  'It struck me he was putting on a very clever act. Possibly for Grenville's benefit.'

  'An interesting thought.'

  'Oh, come on. What do you think of Grenville - of Maurice?'

  'I think Grenville is deliberately acting out a caricature of the stiff-necked military type. Probably goes down well with the Anglo-Pacific Club lot.'

  'So two of them are not what they seem? Grenville and Maurice.'

  'No one out here is what they seem. Same applied to Cornwall.'

  'Well, what about Vanity Richmond?'

  'On the surface she appears to be working hard at a big job. She spends money on expensive clothes. She appears to have a soft spot for Newman. That's all I can make out about her.'

  'On the surface,' Paula repeated. 'She appears ... she appears. You sound very dubious about her. How did you know she's working hard at a big job?'

  'Because I listened from outside the window. My job is to gather data on everyone who could be suspect.'

  'And everyone is suspect,' Paula probed.

  'Guilty until proved innocent. Remember that list of suspects you winkled out from the top of the filing cabinet in Linda Standish's apartment. Moloch, Joel Brand, Luis Martinez, Byron Landis and Vanity Richmond. Alvarez told me Martinez is guard master at Black Ridge.'

  'Well, at least Grenville and Maurice weren't on the list.'

  'A curious omission,' Tweed observed.

  'What does that mean?'

  'What I said. Now I want you to accompany me to Newman's Merc., parked out of sight of the hotel. The two of us together will look less conspicuous. I have something very important to do. Call Bob in his room next to mine and ask him to go to the car immediately. I have to make swift contact with Langley.'

  They found Newman had arrived in the car park. He was standing by the Merc., its front door open. He had even taken the precaution of summoning Butler and Nield, who were strolling round at a distance to make sure they were alone at this remote spot beyond the hotel. The aerial on the car was elevated.

  'I need to get into secret touch with Washington.' Tweed explained. 'Can it be done? It has to be one hundred per cent safe.'

  'Easily. Alvarez explained to me how to do it. If he's near a patrol car a special signal will alert him, unless you don't want him to hear. He carries a device which he can attach to any police radio - it scrambles the message so far as the outside world is concerned.'

  'Let's get on with it quickly. Show me how - and I have to be alone...'

  Newman waited until Tweed was sitting in the front passenger seat, then leaned in, pressed a certain combination of buttons on the black box, handed the microphone to Tweed, shut the door and walked away with Paula.

  'Cord here.' the familiar voice said. 'Is that you, Tweed?'

  Tweed here. I have information that two juggernauts which are no longer at Black Ridge were both carrying explosives. IRIGHT SQUARE BRACKET'

  'Jesus!' Dillon burst out. 'Are you sure?'

  'My informant is exceptionally reliable. The juggernauts are usually parked in a hidden garage behind the mansion - but one was been stopped by a roadblock south of Big Sur, the other crashed over the cliff into the ocean.'

  'Alvarez is now listening in. Alvarez, investigate urgently. Tweed, we are checking an unauthorized explosion which took place in the Nevada desert. One of the abandoned silos which housed missiles was used. We can't identify the explosive. It's something new.'

  'How powerful?' Tweed asked.

  'Brace yourself. Washington is crazy with fear. The new unknown explosive has the force of ten hydrogen bombs.'

  23

  For several minutes Tweed sat motionless in the car when Cord Dillon had gone off the line. Even from a distance Paula could see how grim his expression was. She made a move to go towards the car. Newman stopped her.

  'When he's ready he'll join us.'

  'I've never seen him look so grim.'

  'Leave him alone. He's taking a major decision.'

  'He's sitting so still...'

  As soon as she had spoken Tweed lowered the window, beckoned to them. His whole attitude had changed, had become ferociously active.

  'First, Bob, I want to talk to Alvarez urgently. Second, I want you to drive me to the nearest public phone. Third,' he looked at Marler, who had appeared out of nowhere, carrying a golf bag which Tweed guessed contained the Armalite. "Third, I want maximum protection. I'm sure Moloch knows now where I am. Paula, get in the back.'

  'I'll drive the BMW.' Marler decided, 'and take Butler and Nield with me. I'll be close behind you. Don't be surprised if I suddenly overtake you if I see trouble ahead.

  Newman was already behind the wheel of his Merc. He drove up the long winding drive away from Spanish Bay. In the back Paula checked the action of her .32 Browning. Tweed was holding the microphone in his hand.

  'Alvarez here ...'

  Tweed speaking. Where are you?'

  'Still at the roadblock just south of Big Sur ...'

  'Stay there until you hear from me - if you can ...'

  'I can.'

  'Not possible, I imagine, to get scuba divers who could look under the hull of that ship, the Baja, offshore?'

  "They'll be here in thirty minutes. From police HQ in Monterey. Will do ...' , "Thank you.'

  Paula was surprised. Never before had she known Tweed to ask for maximum protection. She knew him well enough to realize he was not bothered about himself - he was worried about what he had to do. The momentum was building up.

  'I need to phone Professor Weatherby, the seismologist, at his Holland Park home,' Tweed explained tersely.

  A few minutes later Newman parked close to a remote phone box. Tweed was out of the car almost before it stopped moving. He ran to the box, began to call Weatherby.

  Outside Marler had jumped out of his car to join Newman, followed by Butler and Nield. Marler looked round at the dense pine forests closing in on all sides.

  'Not the safest spot,' he observed. 'Harry, Pete, take up positions at the edge of the forest. Stay out of sight and have your weapons ready. Regard any vehicle approaching us as potentially hostile, but be careful - we don't want to shoot up any innocent travellers.'

  Newman took up his own position close to the phone box, his Smith & Wesson revolver in his hand by his side. Paula joined him. She found the heavy silence of the forest disturbing. Inside the box
Tweed had got through to Weatherby.

  Tweed here. I know it's midnight in London. Hope I didn't get you up.'

  'I am up, will be for hours. You sound serious.'

  'Can you explain to me - in simple language, please -if it would be possible to trigger an earthquake under the sea off the California coast? Area Carmel-Big Sur?'

  Triggered? Well, recent research has detected movement under the Pacific in that area. You have to understand there are immense tectonic plates, as we call them - vast slabs of the ocean bed - which can grind up against each other. Or even against the coast. It's an event which is highly unlikely.'

  'If it happened,' Tweed pressed, 'what would cause it?'

  'I suppose a gigantic upheaval underwater could shift a tectonic plate.' He paused. 'I didn't tell you, but Ethan Benyon was working on one such theory, which I find too advanced. Found it in the files he forgot to take with him.'

  'A gigantic underwater upheaval,' Tweed repeated. 'Assume it happened. What would be the result if the plate did hit the coast?'

  'It would have the power to force its way under the coast. Nature's power is awesome. The result? A catastrophe. But, Tweed, this is so unlikely.'

  'Thank you, Weatherby. You've been an enormous help.'

  'Don't see how. Where are you now?'

  'California. Must go.'

  Tweed ran back to the car. Newman was in the driving seat as he sat down. He told Newman briefly the content of his conversation, then asked to be put through to Alvarez again.

  Tweed here. I definitely believe the Baja's hull should be thoroughly investigated.'

  'It's OK. Scuba divers are on their way, plus a small launch on a trailer.'

  'Can I have a word with him?' Newman asked quickly.

  Tweed handed him the microphone. Newman identified himself.

  'Alvarez, could you wait till I arrive? Be there thirty to forty minutes.'

  'I'll see you, Newman...'

  Driving back to the hotel, Newman had Paula and Marler, who had jumped in at the last moment, in the back. Butler, with Nield by his side, followed in the BMW. As they pulled in to the car park Butler jumped out, came up to Tweed who was climbing out.

  'Pete and I are staying with you. No argument. We've been known to disobey orders.'

  'You certainly have,' Tweed agreed. "Thank you.'

  Time to disembark, Paula,' Newman said.

  Time to get moving. I'm coming with you. You'll have to throw me out of the car.'

  'And you'd put up a good fight if I tried it. Marler?'

  'I'm comfortable where I am.'

  Newman sighed, drove off for his destination. Big Sur.

  At Black Ridge Grenville left the mansion, walked down the long drive to where his car was waiting at the entrance. In the front passenger seat was Maurice Prendergast.

  'I invited Moloch to the dance. He said he'd be delighted to come.'

  I'm astounded.'

  'Poor chap doesn't have much social life.' Grenville remarked as he got behind the wheel.

  'Poor chap!' Maurice sneered. 'He's a billionaire.'

  'Money doesn't always buy happiness. Often the very reverse.'

  'He can always cry all the way to the bank, to use a rather hackneyed phrase.'

  'Come to think of it.' Grenville recalled as he drove along Highway One towards Carmel, 'he showed most interest when I told him the names of some of the other guests, including Tweed and Paula Grey.'

  'Was that the real reason you visited Moloch? You were there a long time.'

  'What other reason would I have?' Grenville demanded stiffly.

  Neither of them was aware that a figure at a first-floor window had watched Grenville leaving. Byron Landis only left his viewing place as Grenville's car disappeared.

  Newman arrived in his car to find that Alvarez had hidden his cars and a trailer vehicle in the gulch Butler had used when Tweed and Paula had visited Mrs Benyon. Instinctively he had glanced up at The Apex as they passed the weird house. The curtain in one window twitched. Mrs Benyon was keeping an eye on developments.

  'We have planned it carefully.' Alvarez informed Newman and his companions as soon as they left their car. "The launch is in the water out of sight of the Baja RIGHT SQUARE BRACKET and out of sight of Black Ridge. The scuba divers, three of them, are on board.'

  'I'd like to come with you.' Newman suggested.

  'Of course you can. Why else did I wait?'

  'I'm coming, too,' said Paula. 'Newman needs someone to hold his hand.'

  As she spoke with a smile she extracted a grenade from inside her shoulder bag and slipped it behind her back into Newman's hand. He still played cricket occasionally and was, like Tweed, an ace bowler.

  'I may as well tag along,' said Marler.

  Alvarez stared at him. Marler looked straight back into the dark eyes. Alvarez, impressed by the calm, easy way Marler held himself, nodded and led the way off the highway down a steep grassy bank to a concealed cove with a small beach. A large launch was tethered to a makeshift landing stage.

  Aboard, three frogmen in full gear gazed at the newcomers from behind goggles. One carried an underwater camera. Newman wondered if they were some kind of special service. He boarded the launch, the grenade in a pocket of the lightweight jacket he was wearing. Paula, Marler and Alvarez stepped on the deck and a policeman ashore untethered the rope as Alvarez started the engine, took the wheel.

  Rounding a point, they saw the Baja starboard-on to the launch. The sea was calm - calm enough even for Tweed, Paula thought. At the stern of the huge dredger a big powerboat was moored. As they came closer Alvarez picked up a loudhailer to give the warning 'Police...'

  He never had a chance to speak. Men from the dredger had dropped into the powerboat. Its engine started with a roar and it headed towards them at increasing speed. Paula recognized the large man behind the wheel. Joel Brand. This was going to be a repeat performance of the attempt to run down the dinghy on the faraway Helford River in Cornwall.

  The powerboat soared towards them with increasing momentum, its prow lifted out of the water. It was big enough to slice the launch in two. Alvarez swung the wheel, but so did Brand, heading straight for them at terrifying speed. Newman took out the explosive grenade, removed the pin, counted seconds, hurled it. The grenade landed inside the powerboat towards its stern.

  Paula saw Brand, wearing a woolly cap, which concealed his hair, dive overboard, abandoning the wheel, abandoning the other men aboard. He began to swim towards the shore with the ease and strength of a practised swimmer. The grenade exploded.

  There was a dull crump! followed almost immediately by a shattering roar as the fuel tank went up. Flames engulfed the powerboat in seconds. A section of the stern rocketed skywards, trailing a flame like a meteor, then fell back into the Pacific where it hissed before vanishing below the surface.

  'Proceed with the mission.' Alvarez ordered.

  He guided the launch round the wreckage floating on the surface. They were close to the Baja when he ordered the frogmen overboard. They disappeared below the sea, heading for the underwater section of the hull. Paula had taken out her small pair of field glasses, was scanning the deck of the dredger.

  "That's funny,' she reported. 'Doesn't seem to be anyone aboard.'

  "They're all staying below deck.' Alvarez told her.

  'Looks like a ghost ship.' she commented.

  'More than ghosts aboard that hulk.' he replied. He looked at his watch. 'Should take them a maximum of five minutes to complete the check...'

  They cruised slowly up and down along the starboard side and still no one appeared. Worse still, after ten minutes the frogmen had not surfaced. Alvarez looked worried, guided the launch away from the dredger's prow and round to its port side. He was just in time to catch a glimpse of a figure in a wetsuit disappearing up a ladder and onto the deck.

  'Was that one of your men?' Paula asked. 'He was carrying what seemed like a farmer's prong.'

  'Not one of mi
ne.' Alvarez said with a grimace.

  'And I think he carried one of those electric prongs divers use to ward off marauding underwater life,' warned Newman.

  Paula was leaning over the side, grabbing hold of a floating object. It was the camera one of the frogmen had carried. She handed it to Alvarez. He looked at it, then at Newman.

  'More and more sinister. These special cameras are expensive. If a frogman loses its grip on one it floats to the surface. So what happened to the man holding it?'

  'He was electrocuted - like the others,' Newman said quietly. 'Like the other two. They have an underwater defence team, which means there's something under the hull they don't want us to see. The bodies should float to the surface.'

  'No, they won't,' said Alvarez. "There's a strong current here below the surface. The bodies could be carried miles away, maybe never recovered.'

  'Let's board the ship,' Marler suggested. 'We're armed.'

  'Can't do that,' Alvarez told him. 'We have no authority. No evidence.'

  'What about that powerboat that tried to run us down?' Paula insisted.

  'What about it? I noticed all the wreckage had vanished. No evidence,' he repeated.

  "There's the camera,' Paula went on. 'Could Tweed look at copies of any pictures it took?'

  'Have them delivered to him today.'

  It was a depressed group which headed back for the hidden cove and no one spoke until it had landed. Alvarez acted at once. He handed the camera, which he had placed inside a strong plastic bag, now sealed, to a police officer standing by a patrol car.

  'Get this to the photographic laboratory in Monterey fast. I want original prints and three copies last night...'

  Paula watched the patrol car take off at high speed, siren shrieking, lights flashing. It reminded her of the nightmare drive from the airport to San Francisco when they had arrived.

  'That was Joel Brand who swam ashore.' she said, refusing to give up.

  'You could swear to that in court?' Alvarez asked. 'A positive identification?'

  'Well, no. He was wearing that woolly cap which concealed his hair. I recognized his movements.'