The Cauldron (3 page)

She was eating her dessert when she had another shock. The door to the dining room opened and a woman walked in and sat at a table by herself close to Newman. A brunette, she wore tinted glasses, a blue designer dress, low-cut below the neck, which hugged her very good figure. Seen in profile she seemed very familiar to Paula and her mind flashed back to the woman at Spanish Bay who had attempted to get to know her.

God! Paula thought, I'm sure that's Vanity Richmond. But she was a glamorous redhead in California.

Leaving the dining room, Newman signalled to Marler, who - characteristically - was engaged in deep conversation in one of the lounges with an attractive woman. Marler had a gift for amusing conversation and his companion was almost choking with laughter.

Waiting outside in the dark, Newman suddenly found Paula alongside him.

'What's going on?' she asked. 'I saw you signal Marler.'

'I'm taking him with me down a secret path to a cove by the sea the proprietor told me about. I want a closer look at that ship.'

'I'll come with you.'

'No, you won't. The three of us together would give the game away if we were seen.'

'It isn't that. You think it might be dangerous.'

'All right. Tweed put me in command of this team. So I am ordering you to stay in your bedroom.'

'Bossy so-and-so!'

She was going back inside when she returned quickly after checking no one had seen her.

'I'm sorry, Bob. I shouldn't have said that. I know you're in charge. I'll stay in my bedroom. Be careful.'

'Aren't I always?'

'No, you're not.'

She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze and went inside. A few minutes later Marler strolled out, smoking a king-size.

'Get rid of that.' Newman told him.

Marler bent down to stub out the cigarette while Newman told him about his plan. Taking out an empty packet, Marler slid the dead cigarette inside to leave no traces. Newman went on talking in a low voice.

'I'm carrying a .38 Smith & Wesson in my hip holster. What about you?'

'My faithful Walther automatic is hugging me. Look, there's a back way out just past my ground-floor room. I'll meet you at the other end of the house. That way no one sees us together if you stroll along the terrace c'

The narrow pathway down to the sea, sunk below high hedges on either side, descended steeply. With their eyes tuned to the darkness Newman and Marler avoided tripping over a spider-like pattern of tree roots. The trees enclosed them on both sides and created an a'I'mosphere of imminent danger.

The path twisted and turned, always shielded by hedges growing on banks high up. It was silent as they walked rapidly down and down until they reached the small cove. No one was about. The only sound was the swish of the incoming tide, then a foghorn began to boom eerily as a mist rolled in.

'Just what we needed.' Newman commented.

'Someone is swimming in towards us.' said Marler. 'I think it's a woman. Quite a way out and I think they're tiring. I'd better strip off and go out.'

'Wait a minute.'

Newman was focusing his binoculars. He gazed through them for several minutes, then lowered them from his eyes.

'She's got her second wind, is swimming strongly. And she is heading for this cove. What was that?'

'That.' said Marler, 'was undoubtedly the crack of a rifle shot. But she's still coming. Even a top rifleman won't hit her from that distance. They must be firing from that
Venetia V
ship you told me about on the way down the path.'

The swimmer came on with powerful strokes. No more shots. The mist had blotted out the ship. Newman and Marler were waiting for her when she reached the end of a concrete ramp. As she tried to crawl ashore they lifted her gently and carried her, choking, to the path, where they laid her down.

The woman, hair flat against her well-shaped head, was clad in a swimming costume. She reached up with one hand to pull Newman closer to her, her grip on his arm surprisingly strong. He bent close to listen to what she was trying to say.

'Quack... Quack ... Prof. Benyon ... Quack...'

Then her head slumped back and she was still. They tried every known means to bring her back to life. Eventually, exhausted, Newman stood up, shook his head.

'No good, Marler. She's dead. No pulse. Nothing. She took in too much water during the swim, would be my guess.'

'We'd better report it...'

'And have the police on our backs for God knows how long? Tweed wouldn't like that. This is going to seem obscene but it has to be done.'

He took out the camera he always carried, stood close to the poor woman and took three flash pictures. With a sigh he left the cove, led the way back up the path towards the hotel.

'I'm going to make an anonymous phone call to the police in Truro when we get back,' he told Marler. 'Driving through that nice village of Mawnan Smith I noticed a public phone box.'

'Why Truro? Falmouth is closer.'

'Because then the police won't associate the call as coming from anywhere near here. At the same time I'll call Tweed, get him to send a courier straight down to pick up the film in my camera. The boffins in the Engine Room basement at Park Crescent can develop and print the pics I took. At the same time I'll ask Monica to report it to Truro.'

'Sounds sensible. We don't want anyone else seeing what you photographed. We tell Paula?'

'Not yet.'

When he eventually returned to Nansidwell after making his phone call Newman had a word with the proprietor.

'I've got a courier coming down from London with some urgent documents. He could arrive early in the morning. Mind if I sleep in my clothes on a couch near the front door?'

'You'll end up with a crick in your neck,' the proprietor joked. 'Of course I don't mind. I'll show you how the special lock on the front door works.'

The sturdy, tough Harry Butler arrived at 3 a.m. He had approached discreetly, cutting out the engine of his motorcycle when he saw the entrance to Nansidwell. He freewheeled down the drive and Newman, who was restless, had the door open when Butler arrived.

Stepping outside, Newman saw the precautions Butler had taken: he wore a dispatch rider's outfit and the invented name of a courier service was -attached to his machine. He took the camera Newman handed him, holding his helmet in the other hand. He kept his voice down.

Tweed is sending me back with prints as soon as the Engine Room lads have done their stuff. I should be here again while you're eating breakfast.'

"Three hundred miles there, another three back - that's a tough ride, Harry.'

'I've done more. The photographic team has been alerted to wait for me. We're speed merchants, Bob. I'd better get cracking...'

Newman crept back to his room after locking up. He had a leisurely bath, and slipping his revolver under his pillow, fell fast asleep. He woke at 7 a.m. - Newman could get by on four hours' sleep. He stayed in his room to avoid any risk of being conspicuous and entered the dining room at 9 a.m. Paula was at her own table, finishing off a full English breakfast. He marvelled at how slim she remained - she always ate large meals when she could. He thought how attractive she looked, wearing a pale blue T-shirt, white linen trousers and white pumps.

As he sat down the brunette was about to leave her table, still wearing tinted glasses. He estimated her height at five foot six against his own five feet nine and again she wore an outfit which showed off her figure to full advantage. She sat down again when she saw him, poured herself more coffee. He was careful not to catch her eye.

Newman had just ordered his own full English breakfast when one of the serving girls came over and bent down to whisper.

"There's a courier outside who has asked for you. He insisted he must see you personally. Don't worry about your breakfast. I'll wait until you get back...'

Butler, still in courier kit, was waiting for him in the large courtyard a distance from the hotel. This time he kept his helmet on. Smart, Newman thought as he went over to him - Butler had realized at this hour guests would be about. Handing him a large cardboard-backed envelope with nothing on the outside to indicate its source, Butler raised his helmet, began talking in a low voice.

'Tweed's instructions are for you to stay down here. All of you. I have to back you up. I've left my case at the Meudon Hotel just down the road. Tweed may arrive here himself - on the pretext of keeping Paula company. He said it's important we check Mullion Towers, Moloch's place out in the wilds.'

Newman said nothing as, with his back to the hotel, he carefully unsealed the envelope and withdrew three large glossy prints. The face of the dead swimmer had come out even better than he had hoped for. He slid them back as Butler went on talking.

'You'll see I've removed the courier sticker from the machine. If you need me, call the Meudon. I'm registered as Butler. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

"That gives me unlimited scope for any risky enterprise.' Newman joshed him. 'And thank you, Harry. You look amazingly fresh after your long trips.'

'Who needs sleep?'

Butler pulled down his helmet, turned to his machine, and when Newman swung round the attractive brunette was coming out. He acknowledged her briefly, went back inside.

Paula was sitting by herself, legs neatly crossed as she appeared to be absorbed in a magazine. Newman paused by her side, pointed to something in the magazine.

'We need to meet. All three of us. But not obviously. Inside this place.'

'My room.' she said promptly. 'It's large. I'll leave the door unlocked ...'

Marler stood in the other lounge, staring out of the window at Venetia V, still floating outside the entrance to Falmouth harbour. His acute hearing had caught the lowered voices. He swung round and there was no one else in the lounge as Newman approached him, the envelope tucked under his arm.

'Meeting in Paula's room. The door will be unlocked. You slip in after a few minutes.'

'Understood. Paula has just left the other lounge...'

Ten minutes later Newman and Marler had joined Paula in her spacious room on the first floor. She had already prepared for their conversation - the small radio she always took with her on hips was playing classical music and she had turned on both bathtaps and left the bathroom door open. More than enough to scramble what they said if someone was trying to eavesdrop.

'Harry Butler is staying at Meudon Hotel just down the road.' Newman began. 'Under his own name. Tweed himself may come here suddenly. If he does, he'll know you, Paula, but none of the rest of us.'

'What's happening?' Paula interjected. 'Tweed sounds to be assembling a powerful force in this area.'

'Do let me finish.' Newman requested. "The main target for us is Moloch's mansion, Mullion Towers. I've checked it on the map. It's right in the wilderness so far as I can tell.'

'So he's very concerned about Moloch.' Paula mused.

'If you'll just let me proceed.' Newman told her with mock severity.

'I'm a mute,' Paula replied and put her hand across her mouth. 'Do go on - and on and on.'

Newman then told her of his experience with Marler the previous night, when they had brought the woman swimmer out of the water. Paula was startled, appalled.

"This is a repeat performance of what I experienced back at Octopus Cove. It's amazing.'

'It's significant.' Newman agreed. 'Considering
Venetia V
was present on both occasions. I'm convinced now the reason Tweed sent us down here was he knew that ship was heading for Falmouth, was due to reach here very soon.'

He then picked up the envelope he had dropped on Paula's bed. Taking out the three prints he held them in his hand.

"These are pics of the woman who came out of the sea at the bottom of the path Marler and I walked down. They're good shots. She was dead when I took them.'

'You left her there?' asked Paula.

'No alternative. Tweed doesn't want us tangled up with the police. I called Truro police station anonymously so she wouldn't lie there all night.'

He spread the prints out on the bed. Paula and Marler stood up, went to the end of the bed. As she stared down at them Paula almost let out a small scream. Controlling herself, she gazed at the photos as though hypnotized. Newman sensed her shock.