by Colin Forbes
As she had hoped, the glass of wine persuaded Tweed to stop pacing. He sat down in an armchair opposite her, drank a little, put down the glass, stared at her.
"They think they've seen us off.' he growled.
'With the bomb, you mean?'
'No. I mean Moloch and his staff. I'm referring to the pressure Moloch put on Washington. As to the bomb, I'd be surprised if he knew about it.'
'What makes you say that?'
'My assessment of his character. The fact that the electronics plant blown up in the Thames Valley back home was carefully planned to avoid casualties. That was undoubtedly his work. It was an American competitor who was the target.'
'You said they think they've seen us off,' she reminded him.
'Yes. Moloch is wily and cunning. He's had to be to survive in this jungle of American business. We're going to also be wily. In the morning I want you to go to the reservation desk. Tell them to book six seats on a flight from San Francisco to London. Open tickets to be used at any time. In our names. Include Alvarez. Don't be discreet. Raise your voice a bit. Then ask them to hold our rooms here, explain you'll warn them if and when we have to depart.'
'We're leaving?'
'We're staying,' Tweed growled.
'It's a smokescreen.'
'Precisely. I'm sure Moloch has a watcher permanently in the hotel, a guest or guests to check our moves. He'll think we have decided to give up.'
'But we haven't.'
'No, not by a long chalk.' he said more quietly. 'We're now going on the offensive at every opportunity against Moloch and all his works. We're in hostile territory. No more help from Washington. So we'll play tough. Very tough.'
It was the bomb which had supercharged Tweed. The thought of it exploding next to Paula had enraged him. He was going to fight back - with gloves off. His mind was now filled with ice-cold ruthlessness. This was America. So he'd play it in the American way.
"That lunch with Vanity Richmond tomorrow could be a trap.' she reflected.
'It probably is. So we walk into it and wipe out the trappers.'
'You think Vanity knows that it is a trap?'
'Maybe, maybe not.'
He dismissed this possibility with a wave of his hand as being of no importance. Then he sipped more wine. She had never seen him more alert.
'I think Moloch has an innocent-seeming person, apparently outside his organization, as a spy. I can sniff him, but so far I can't identify him. It wouldn't surprise me if whoever it may be is also linked with Cornwall.'
'That narrows the field.'
'Not enough. From now on. There are several people now out here who were in Cornwall when we were.'
'Including Vanity Richmond, who is a she.'
'Including Vanity.' he agreed. 'So the watchword is trust no one, suspect everyone. I shall warn the others about this separately in the morning. A remarkable man, Vincent Bernard Moloch. A network in Cornwall, another here in California.'
'What about The Accountant?' she asked.
'That killer must be hunted down - located first -then he, or she, must be eliminated.'
Paula stared at him. She had never heard him speak like this before. But having escaped death by inches at the hands of the assassin she agreed with Tweed's attitude. The murder toll - including many women - had been too great, the method used too grisly.
'Another anxiety,' Tweed explained, 'is Ethan Benyon. You saw how he was behaving in Palo Eldorado.'
'Maybe he was on drugs,' she suggested.
'I don't think so. There's something wrong inside that clever head. And his finger is on the trigger.'
"The trigger of what?'
Tweed recalled for her his visit to see Moloch. He described how he had been shown the chamber below Black Ridge, how Ethan had described some of his work with great enthusiasm, his eyes glowing, until Moloch had veered him off the subject.
'Moloch said that steel door in the wall of the chamber was a safe,' Tweed continued. 'I'm sure it wasn't. In a bank vault a door that size swings open on hinges - this one had runners on the floor. The kind of door which leads to an elevator. I think the elevator leads to something under the earth's surface. If Dillon had agreed to our storming Black Ridge - or had done the job himself -we'd have found out what the secret of Black Ridge is. Because I'm convinced there is one - a very diabolical secret.'
'Well, that avenue is closed to us. Seems all avenues of approach are closed to us now Washington has shut down on us. I think...'
She never did say what she was thinking. The phone rang, she picked it up, answered, then handed it to Tweed, one hand over the mouthpiece.
'It's Hoarse Voice again.'
Tweed here.'
He listened without speaking, thanked the caller, put down the phone. He leaned back in his chair, picked up his glass, drank a little more wine. His eyes were gleaming.
'Don't forget to make those BA bookings on the plane home in the morning. Open bookings. Choose a time when the lobby is crowded.'
'You've already told me. I hadn't forgotten.' When he didn't speak for a short time she asked, 'Who is Hoarse Voice? Or shouldn't I ask?'
'You shouldn't ask. The caller gave me a message, a warning. "Don't go to McGee's Landing in the Ventana wilderness." Just that.'
'I've never heard of the place.'
'Neither have I. That is, the exact location. But when I was last here an American told me about the area. It's very wild and dangerous, I gather.'
'And if we get invited out there?'
'We'll go.' Tweed couldn't keep still. He stood up, began pacing again. 'We'll face whatever is waiting for us. From now on this is war c'
In the morning Paula was up early, despite only a few hours' sleep. After showering, taking only minutes to put on make-up, dressing, she went along to the spacious lobby and stopped at the reservations desk. They directed her to the concierge desk opposite. The lobby was crowded with people going to breakfast, sitting chatting on couches. An arm encircled her waist. She froze. Surely not another attempt on her life in such a public place? Her right hand dropped to her shoulder bag.
'Hope I didn't startle you, Paula.' a cheerful voice said. Grenville's. She turned round.
'As a matter of fact, you did.'
'Sorry, and all that. Thought we might have a bit of breakfast together. You're looking like the cat's whiskers. A dream come true.'
"Thank you. For the invitation. And the compliment. But I have to dash off somewhere.'
'Bad luck, for me. That chap Tweed keeps you on the go, I suspect. Really ought to relax now and again, you know. I won't detain you.'
Paula was staring at him. Grenville could be very charming. Since arriving in California he seemed to have developed a very likeable personality. If she hadn't had a job to do she'd almost have been tempted to accept his invitation - to find our more about what he was really like. She was heading for the concierge desk when Grenville returned, grinning.
'Our friend Maurice never learns. He's over there behind that plump lady drinking coffee.'
'Why shouldn't he?' Paula enquired.
'I just saw him emptying something from a hip flask into his coffee. Brandy would be my bet. Maurice starts early in the day. Sorry, I'm intruding on you again. I'll shove off.'
Paula went to the desk, asked in a clear voice for the air tickets to be booked. She made a great palaver about it, asking the girl behind the counter several questions. Then she turned to head back for her room to order breakfast from Room Service. Only way to avoid Grenville.
The first person she saw as she was crossing the lobby was Vanity. Dressed to kill, she greeted Paula warmly. Paula wondered how long she had been in the lobby.
'Isn't it the most wonderful day?' Vanity began with her warm smile. 'I went out onto the terrace. There isn't a cloud in the duck-egg blue sky. Sea's like the proverbial millpond. Still, I mustn't hold you up. You look as though you are in your usual rush.'
Paula smiled, turned to go, almost ran
into Newman, who was looking very buoyant. Smartly clad, he wore beige trousers with a knife-edged crease and a blue-and-white check sports shirt. Smiling at Paula, he then took hold of Vanity with his hands on her shoulders, kissed her on both cheeks.
'Sorry if I've held you up for breakfast.' he said.
'Yes, you have. And you have a starving woman on your hands.'
'We'll soon attend to that. See you, Paula ...'
She watched them walking together to Roy's, the restaurant. Paula felt a twinge of uneasiness. Newman seemed enchanted by Vanity. Was he going overboard? Well, it's his affair, literally, she thought. I just hope he hasn't lost his normal detached judgement.
She went back to report to Tweed what she had seen and heard in the lobby.
Within thirty minutes of Paula booking the open air tickets Moloch had been informed of her action by phone. He told Joel Brand who had just entered his office.
'So the whole lot appear to be ready to take off for home,' he remarked.
'Don't believe it,' Brand replied curtly.
He was wearing a lumberjack's outfit, minus the tool belt. On his feet were a pair of tough leather boots with metal studs in the toecaps.
'Why not?' Moloch enquired, staring at his deputy.
'They're trying to bluff us. You said yourself Tweed struck you as a man who never gives up.'
'I did. But now he finds himself in an impossible position since I persuaded Washington to withdraw all support. He has no authority in America. No status. He has obviously realized this. Hence the booking of air tickets back to Britain.'
'I still don't believe it.'
'You're beginning to bore me.' Moloch's eyes gazed at Brand's. 'Why are you dressed like that? You know I like my staff to wear proper clothes on duty.'
'I ain't on duty,' Brand responded insolently. "This is one of my rare days off. You agreed I could take a day when I felt I needed it. I feel I need it. Mind if I borrow the chopper? I'm goin' fishing. You said you'd be here all day.'
'Use the chopper. Try shark fishing. You might have an accident.'
Moloch was already back at examining his papers. Brand was pleased with himself. He had stage-managed that well. Made VB so irked he was glad to be rid of him. With his back to Moloch, he smirked. His chief couldn't handle Tweed. Brand knew he could. Permanently.
'Any of several people could have been eavesdropping on me when I ordered those tickets.' Paula reported to Tweed in his living room. 'Grenville was there, so was Maurice - although according to Grenville he'd already started drinking brandy at that hour. Then Vanity was hanging around behind me.'
'But according to what you told me a moment ago the lobby was full of people. It could have been someone else we don't know about.'
Tweed was examining a map as he spoke. He asked Paula to join him as he pointed to the map.
"There is Carmel Valley. As you'll see it runs a long way inland. Alvarez came in while you were away. That cross shows the hotel called Robles Del Rio Lodge. The Ridge - the restaurant where we're meeting Vanity for lunch - is part of the hotel. Down here' - he pointed to a second cross Alvarez had drawn - 'is a small airfield for light aircraft near what they call the Village, as you'll see.'
'The road along Carmel Valley then continues for miles - to a place called Greenfield. Seems to be in the middle of nowhere.'
'It is. Approaching Greenfield the road is close to the notorious Ventana wilderness. That's where the Rednecks prowl.'
'Rednecks?'
'Alvarez will explain them to you. He's very good on the early history of America - which throws a light on California today. Had your breakfast?'
'No. Grenville wanted me to join him but I evaded the invitation.'
'Then what are you waiting for? Order it from Room Service for both of us here. I feel like the full English.'
Paula was surprised by Tweed's robust attitude. He seemed to be looking forward to the prospect of what lay ahead of them. He was even humming to himself. She paused before picking up the phone.
'I have a feeling this trip up the Carmel Valley could be dangerous.'
'Possibly. Which is why, after we've finished breakfast, everyone is assembling in Marler's room. I've put him in charge of the whole operation. He will be handing out certain equipment.'
'Bob Newman is usually in charge.'
'I know. But he's had a lot to cope with.'
'You're worried his mind might not be totally concentrated on the job? That he's so carried away by Vanity he might make a mistake? An infatuated man doesn't think straight.'
'Bob is thinking more clearly than you obviously realize. I just feel it is time Marler played a greater role. He's a cool man in an emergency.'
'You think there will be one, then? An emergency?'
'I sincerely hope so. It's time we confronted the thugs and gave them a taste of their own medicine.'
30
It was another glorious sunny day as they drove towards the entrance to the Carmel Valley. It was also very warm. At Tweed's suggestion Paula was seated in the rear of the Cadillac alongside Alvarez, who had attended Marler's conference.
In the front Newman was behind the wheel with Tweed next to him. Behind them Marler drove the BMW. In the front passenger seat sat Nield, smoking a cigarette, looking out with interest at the countryside. Butler, carrying a canvas holdall looped by a strap over his back, occupied the rear. Inside the holdall, with other equipment, was a Heckler and Koch MP5 9mm sub-machine-gun. It had been handed to him by Marler during the conference in his room.
'Where on earth did you get that?' Paula had asked.
'Don't ask embarrassing questions,' Marler had reproved her with a glance at Alvarez. 'It has a firepower of six hundred and fifty rounds a minute. Standard weapon used by the SAS back home...'
The others were also carrying canvas holdalls -including Nield, Marler, Newman and Alvarez. Paula's shoulder bag was bulging. The only passenger not carrying any weapon was Tweed. He had rarely been known to carry a gun, although he was a crack shot.
"That building down there on your right is Mission Ranch,' Alvarez told Paula. 'A very nice restaurant with a superb view over the estuary of the Carmel River and the hills beyond, to say nothing of its ocean view. We might call there for a drink on the way back.'
If we ever get back, Paula thought, but kept the idea to herself.
Warm as it had been during the drive to the Carmel Valley, the heat became subtropical when Newman turned off the main road along the entrance to the valley. The further they drove along a well-surfaced wide road the more the temperature climbed. Paula remarked on it.
"That's true.' Alvarez agreed. "The reason is the valley is cut off from ocean breezes. It is like a funnel. The sun beats down on it, builds up the heat for which there is no escape.'
'No escape is right.' replied Paula, mopping perspiration off her forehead. 'Yet there are some pretty luxurious-looking properties high up.'
"The higher up you are, the cooler you are. And with a good view we are talking of properties worth a million dollars, maybe two or three.'
"This part of California seems loaded with dollars.' she commented.
'It is. People who have made it come here because of the climate and the magnificent scenery. Here you have it all.'
'Including contentment?'
'Ah!' Alvarez let out his infectious laugh. 'Who is content in America? There is always a restlessness, a seeking of a new sensation. Maybe a new wife, a new lady friend. Women are infected with the same disease, always looking for something new, someone new. I believe the trouble is that America is not a country, as in Europe, it is a continent. The sheer scale dwarfs people, so they scuttle around like ants.'
Paula fell silent. She was watching the endless new views which appeared as Newman kept driving round bends, opening up a fresh panorama. On both sides high rolling hills folded behind each other and she had distant views of the valley which seemed to plunge into the interior for ever. Then she remembered w
hat she was going to ask him.
'What are Rednecks?'
'Rednecks.' replied Alvarez gravely, 'are primitive people. You leave behind the California of the tourist posters. They are very tough, carry shotguns - and don't hesitate to use them on strangers. They live in and on the edge of the Ventana wilderness. They are usually big men with thick red necks. Hence the name. Best if we don't meet up with them. But they are a long way down the valley from where we are lunching. Oh, here we are. Newman, be ready to turn right up a winding road. Off the highway.'
Following the instructions, Newman turned, began to climb a steep winding narrow road. The road carried them higher and higher past open hill country. Gone were the wayside hamlets, the turn-offs to general stores and other shops Paula had seen at intervals on the valley road.
Just when she wondered where their destination was they swung round another steep slope and she saw Vanity's Audi parked below a flight of white stone steps. A wooden sign suspended from a post proclaimed Robles Del Rio Lodge. At the top of the steps a large trellis of wood framed the entrance to a terrace beyond.
Newman was parking the car with the BMW pulling up behind him when Vanity appeared, running down the steps. She wore a summery white sleeveless dress which emphasized her blazing mane of red hair. Round her waist was a wide leather belt with a gold buckle.
'Welcome, all of you.'
She was smiling constantly. Newman held out his hand, grinning as he kissed her on one cheek. The scene amused Paula. She realized he didn't want a great display of public affection. Vanity turned to Paula, hugged her, and Paula caught a whiff of faint perfume, quite different from the aroma she had experienced when The Accountant attempted to garrotte her.
'I've booked Table Four.' Vanity said to Tweed. 'I've had it enlarged. It gives us the most terrific view while we enjoy lunch. But first you will all want drinks. The heat is exceptional today.'
'It would be,' Tweed replied in a mocking tone as she gazed at him. 'It knew we were coming.'
After greeting the others, Vanity folded her arm inside Tweed's, escorted him up the steps with Paula by her side. At the top Paula paused, gazing in admiration at a large oblong swimming pool to their right. She thought she had never seen water so intensely sapphire.