The Cauldron (5 page)

'He must love America.' Tweed commented.

"The word is he hates it after what happened to him. But he keeps his real feelings to himself. He then set about building up AMBECO into the biggest conglomerate in the world. Borrowed money from a bank, immediately paid back the loan when he was successful to keep his independence. He works like a Trojan, needs very little sleep.'

'Personality?'

'I'm told he can be a real charmer - far more so than Brand. I can't find a photograph of him anywhere but I'm persisting. He objects to having his picture taken. He has plants all over the States, here in the North, in Germany and France and Holland. He has one in Saudi Arabia.'

'The Arab connection.'

'Exactly. He's fluent in Arabic, German, French, Italian, Spanish, and English, of course. My informant on that score told me he was self-taught. He has a first-rate brain...'

'Married?'

'Never. At least so far I haven't traced a wife. VB has a succession of girl friends - all of them so-called upper-class types. There have been seven of them so far. They have all disappeared.'

'Disappeared? What on earth do you mean?'

'What I said. They vanish without trace. They are supposed to have gone off travelling with money VB supplied them with but they've never been seen since. I spoke to Cord Dillon, your American opposite number at the CIA in Langley. The wealthy father of one of the girls, Julia Sanchez, called Cord from Philadelphia. Cord, as a favour, checked out her movements. The records show a return ticket to London, and a girl who looked like Julia did board the flight, then she vanished. A flight from San Francisco.'

'Were these girl friends VB's confidantes, I wonder?'

'I gather they may have been. Cord is equally worried about the amount of power Moloch has accumulated. He has certain key senators in his pocket. Money roars.'

'It certainly does.' Tweed looked thoughtful. 'Any chance of obtaining a photo of this Julia Sanchez?'

'Yes. The father in Philadelphia supplied Cord with several. At my request Cord has sent one to you by Federal Express. Should arrive tomorrow.'

'Does this Armenian Varouj Kerkorian - or Joel Brand as he now calls himself - jealously guard his position as Moloch's deputy?'

Monica looked surprised at this unexpected question. She gazed at Tweed, smiled wrily.

'You do have a sixth sense. One of the things I left out was that Brand can't stand anyone else getting close to VB.'

'Where is VB's main base?'

'I asked Cord that question. VB has a huge house near Big Sur south of Carmel. It's called Black Ridge, overlooks the Pacific, is heavily guarded. Savage dogs, searchlights, an electric wire on top of a wall round the place. You name any form of advanced security and he's got it.'

'What about his fabulous ship,
Venetia V
?'

'Well, as I told you the other day, it sailed from Monterey some time ago. My contact at Lloyd's said it was supposed to be bound for Baja California in Mexico, then it changed its destination to Falmouth...'

'Yes, I remember.'

'Which I suppose is why you sent that large team down to Cornwall...'

'Yes. I omitted telling them about the ship to see how they reacted spontaneously. And, of course, Paula had phoned some of that information to me from San Francisco airport before she boarded her flight to return here. Now, about the contact at Lloyd's.'

'He said it was the most expensive and sophisticated private vessel in the world - especially as regards communications.'

'Must have cost a packet - but Moloch's resources appear to be unlimited. That's it so far?'

'Not quite. Living in a big house near Mission Ranch, just on the southern fringes of Carmel, is Moloch's grim-looking stepmother, Mrs Benyon.'

'Why grim-looking? How do you know?'

'Because I obtained a recent picture of her from a photo library.' Monica stood up, produced a large print from her desk drawer, laid it in front of Tweed. 'That's her.'

Tweed gazed at the picture. It showed Mrs Benyon sitting in a chair like a throne. She was grotesquely fat, had two plump jowls, hawklike eyes which stared straight at Tweed. She reminded him of a Buddha and he didn't like the look of her. Her mouth was pouched venomously and her thick grey hair hung to her wide shoulders. Even in a photo she exuded an air of command, a woman who expected everyone to obey her slightest whim. He handed the photograph back to Monica.

'How old is the dear lady?'

"That I haven't found out. But she has a son who works for Moloch. He's called Ethan Benyon, and is a seismologist.'

'What is VB doing with seismology?'

'No idea. It's another factor that worries Cord Dillon. He wouldn't say why so I didn't press him. I'm still digging, but what do you think of it all so far?'

'I don't like it. Especially that item about VB's seven girl friends vanishing without trace. Sounds sinister. I may have to go down to Cornwall very soon. With Harry Butler's partner, Pete Nield.'

"The eagles gather.'

She had just spoken when the phone rang. Tweed grabbed it before Monica could reach it. Newman's voice came clearly over the line.

'Bob reporting in.'

Tweed here.'

'I'm making a brief call over a safe line. Local call box. We're on our way to take a close look at Mullion Towers.'

'Be careful. Monica found out from Jim Corcoran, Chief of Security at Heathrow, that Moloch arrived from the States a few days ago, then took off again after refuelling for Newquay airport. That's close to Stithians. So the great man is probably in residence. Could be very dangerous - proceed with great caution...'

2

Emerging from the phone box, Newman jumped behind the wheel of his Mercedes with Paula by his side. As he left the small village of Mawnan Smith, with its thatched cottages, the Red Lion pub and a square with the local shops, another car took off behind him. Marler followed in his Saab, his Armalite rifle concealed on the floor. Ahead of Newman, Butler led the way on his Harley-Davidson motorbike. Everyone knew where they were going, the route they were taking to Mullion Towers.

'I always feel like royalty when we ride like this.' Paula commented. 'A motorcycle outrider ahead and Marler guarding our rear.'

'You're more worthwhile than some royalty I could mention.' Newman replied and grinned roguishly at her.

"Thank you, kind sir.' she replied mockingly.

'Any time, Princess.'

'Seriously, Bob, do you think this is going to be a quiet trip?'

'I doubt it. From what you told us about your experience in Monterey - and that woman, Vanity Richmond, who tried to make friends with you - I suspect Moloch knows more about us than is comfortable. I've told Butler and Marler we're on maximum alert.'

'I looked again at that map you showed us and it seemed pretty remote country where Moloch has his mansion. I'll bet there's not much traffic out there, that any there is will be noticed. And we're a ruddy convoy.'

'So let's see how the king of the castle reacts to having visitors. Moloch himself is probably there.'

'What makes you say that?'

'While I was collecting my case at Park Crescent Monica warned me the great man flew from San Francisco in his Lear jet to Heathrow, refuelled, then flew on to Newquay airport. From there it's just a short car drive to this place Stithians.'

'So this could be exciting. I've got my Browning inside my shoulder bag.'

'Good. My advice is prepare for fireworks c'

Driving through open countryside they went straight over a crossroads down a lane signposted Stithians. They had entered a typical Cornish lane, the banked hedges of ferns and gorse closing in on both sides. Topping the crest of a hill they had a panoramic view - great sweeps of rolling land with few trees, stretching away into the far distance towards high ridges silhouetted against an azure sky. The sun beat down and the inside of the car became an oven, even with all the windows open.

'It's getting a bit hot and airless.' Paula remarked.

'A bit!' exclaimed Newman. 'It's torrid, tropical. My shirt is already sticking to my back.'

The lane twisted and turned while Paula forced herself to concentrate on the open map in her lap. They turned along a more major road for a short distance, then swung off along an even narrower lane again signposted Stithians. Paula braced herself as Newman squeezed the car between the enclosing banks. After a while they turned again into another similar lane sign posted Stithians Dam.

'A dam out here?' Paula queried. "That's strange.'

'There's a reservoir below where I expect Mullion Towers is. Hence, probably a dam...'

They passed through Stithians, no more than a hamlet of granite-walled cottages with grey slate roofs. There was not a soul about: even a few whitewashed houses failed to lighten the gloom of the place. They passed a children's playground with swings and Paula stared. 'What future can children expect here when they grow up?' she wondered aloud.

'No future at all down here ...'

He stopped speaking as he slowed, turned a corner and below them a large deep dam barred off a large stretch of still water, the reservoir. Turning off the engine, Newman got out, put on his jacket reluctantly, but he had to conceal the hip holster holding the Smith & Wesson. Taking hold of a pair of binoculars from the back seat, he looped them round his neck, walked down towards the dam.

Paula walked alongside him, tense because of the dam and the heavy sultry silence. They had passed no traffic during the whole trip and the area round the dam was equally deserted. Newman stopped, raised his binoculars, focused them.

"That has to be Mullion Towers - on top of the ridge.'

'Are you sure?' Paula queried. 'It looks a horrible place.'

'Pretty sure - it has towers at each corner with gargoyles. The windows are mullion-paned. What else is there round here that could be it?'

Glancing back, Paula saw Marler had pulled up a distance behind the Merc. He was standing on the far side of the Saab, crouching down. She guessed he was checking the action of the Armalite rifle. Butler had hidden his machine close to a wall. Paula looked towards the remote mansion and was appalled.

The long savage ridge the house was perched on stretched a mile down towards them, hideously arid, not a tree or shrub on its barren slope. Newman scanned the house inch by inch. Built of granite the hulk was three storeys high and higher than any of the towers rose a mast with a complex of radio aerials and a Comsat dish. Just like the set-up aboard the
Venetia
. That convinced him they had found their objective.

"That's Mullion Towers,' he said.

"The whole area is a wilderness.' Paula commented without enthusiasm. 'Might be a flaming desert.'

Newman had started walking down the steep slope to the dam and Paula walked by his side. There was something eerie about the silent dam which unsettled her.

'It's a wilderness,' Newman agreed. -Not another sign of human habitation. Just the place a secretive billionaire would favour.'

Thigh-high rails, painted a hideous blue, almost purple, lined each side of the walkway spanning the top of the dam. Low gates at either end of the walkway appeared to be locked. They reached a tall railed gate with a notice warning them to proceed no further. The dam loomed above them.

Looking up, Newman measured the distance from the walk to the bottom of the dam where the wall sloped outwards. Anyone falling over from near the centre would never survive the drop.

Now the unnerving silence was broken by the low surge of water passing under the dam. The silence was further broken by another more penetrating sound - the engine of a helicopter. They looked up and saw a helicopter circling above them a few hundred feet up.

'Had we better hide if we can?' Paula suggested.

'Nowhere to hide. Just walk back with me quietly to the car like a couple of tourists.'

'It might be a helicopter from that big RAF training airfield at Culdrose.' Paula surmised as they continued walking back to the car. 'Our hotel proprietor told us.'

'Could be.'

'But you don't think so,' she insisted.

'Well, when I was down at that cove with Marler I had a chance to scan the
Venetia
. Aft of the main control cabin was a helipad. Perched on it was a similar machine to that one circling above us.'