Seawitch

by Alistair MacLean

  ‘Yes. Especially on the other hand.’ Mitchell turned to leave, then said to Robertson: ‘Does the gate-keeper have a listed phone number as well as the radio-phone?’

  ‘I’ve typed it on that list.’

  ‘Maybe we should both have you as a partner.’

  Mitchell and Roomer stood on Campbell’s back lawn and surveyed the scene unemotionally. The canvas chair, on its side, had a broken leg. The parasol was at full length on the grass, straddling an upturned book. The fishing rod was in the water up to its handle, and would have floated away had not the reel snagged on a shrub root. Roomer retrieved the rod while Mitchell hurried through the back doorway–the back door was wide open, as was the front. He dialled a phone number, which answered on the first ring. ‘Lord Worth’s heliport. Gorrie here.’ ‘My name’s Mitchell. You have a police guard?’ ‘Mr Mitchell? You Lord Worth’s friend?’ ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sergeant Roper is here.’

  ‘That all? Let me speak to him.’ There was hardly a pause before Roper came on the phone. ‘Mike? Nice to hear from you again.’ ‘Listen, Sergeant, this is urgent. I’m speaking from the house of John Campbell, one of Lord Worth’s pilots. He has been forcibly abducted, almost certainly by some of the kidnappers of Lord Worth’s daughters. I have every reason to believe–no time for explanations now–that they are heading in your direction with the intention of hijacking one of Lord Worth’s helicopters and forcing Campbell to fly it. There’ll be two of them at least, maybe three, armed and dangerous. I suggest you call up reinforcements immediately. If we get them we’ll break them–at least Roomer and I will, you can’t, you’re a law officer and your hands are tied–and we’ll find out where the girls are and get them back.’

  ‘Reinforcements coming up. Then I’ll look the other way.’

  Mitchell hung up. Roomer was by his side. Roomer said: ‘You prepared to resort to torture to get the information you want?’

  Mitchell looked at him bleakly. ‘I look forward to it. Don’t you?’

  ‘No. But I’ll go along with you.’

  Once again Mitchell and Roomer had guessed correctly. And once again they were too late.

  Mitchell had driven to Lord Worth’s heliport with a minimum regard for traffic and speed regulations, and now, having arrived there, realized bitterly that his haste had been wholly unnecessary.

  Five men greeted their arrival, although it was hardly a cheerful meeting: Gorrie, the gateman, and four policemen. Gorrie and Sergeant Roper were tenderly massaging their wrists. Mitchell looked at Roper.

  ‘Don’t tell me.’ Mitchell sounded weary. ‘They jumped you before the reinforcements were to hand.’

  ‘Yes.’ Roper’s face was dark with anger. ‘I know it sounds like the old lame excuse, but we never had a chance. This car comes along and stops outside the gate-house, just here. The driver–he was alone in the car–seemed to be having a fit of sneezes and was holding a big wad of Kleenex to his face.’

  Roomer said: ‘So you wouldn’t recognize him again?’

  ‘Exactly. Well, we were watching this character when a voice behind us–the back window was open–told us to freeze. I didn’t even have my hand on my gun. We froze. Then he told me to drop my gun. Well, this guy was no more than five feet away and I had my back to him. I dropped my gun. Dead heroes are no good to anyone. Then he told us to turn round. He was wearing a stocking mask. Then the driver came in and tied our wrists behind our backs. When we turned round he was wearing a stocking mask too.’

  ‘Then they tied your feet and tied you together so that you wouldn’t have any funny ideas about using a telephone?’

  ‘That’s how it was. But they weren’t worried about the phones. They smashed them both before they took off.’

  ‘They took off immediately?’

  Gorrie said: ‘No. Five minutes later. The pilots always radio-file a flight plan before take-off. I suppose the kidnappers forced Campbell to do the same. To make it look kosher.’

  Mitchell shrugged his indifference. ‘Means nothing. You can file a flight plan to any place. Doesn’t mean you have to keep it. How about fuel–for the helicopters, I mean?’

  ‘Fuel’s always kept topped up. My job. Lord Worth’s orders.’

  ‘What direction did the kidnappers go?’

  ‘That-away.’ Gorrie indicated with an outstretched arm.

  ‘Well, the birds have flown. Might as well be on our way.’

  ‘Just like that?’ Roper registered surprise.

  ‘What do you expect me to do that the police can’t?’

  ‘Well, for starters, we could call in the air force.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They could force it down.’

  Mitchell sighed. ‘There’s a great deal of rubbish talked about forcing planes down. What if they refuse to be forced down?’

  ‘Then shoot it down.’

  ‘With Lord Worth’s daughters aboard? Lord Worth wouldn’t be very pleased. Neither would you. Think of all the cops that would be out of a job.’

  ‘Lord Worth’s daughters!’

  ‘It’s all this routine police work,’ Roomer said. ‘Atrophies the brain. Who the hell do you think that helicopter has gone to pick up?’

  Once clear of the heliport Roomer extended an arm. ‘“That-away” the man said. “That-away” is north-west. The Wyanee swamp.’

  ‘Even if they’d taken off to the southeast they’d still have finished up in Wyanee.’ Mitchell pulled up by a public booth. ‘How are you with McGarrity’s voice?’ Roomer was an accomplished mimic.

  ‘It’s not the voice that worries me. It’s the thought processes. I’ll give it a try.’ He didn’t say what he was going to try because he didn’t have to. He left for the booth and was back inside two minutes.

  ‘Campbell filed a flight plan for the Seawitch.’

  ‘Any questions asked?’

  ‘Not really. Told them that some fool had made a mistake. Anyone who knows McGarrity would know the identity of the fool that made the mistake.’

  Mitchell switched on the engine then switched off as the phone rang. Mitchell lifted the receiver.

  ‘Jim here. Tried to ring you a couple of times, fifteen minutes ago, five minutes ago.’

  ‘Figures. Out of the car both times. More bad news?’

  ‘Not unless you consider Lord Worth bad news. Touch-down in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘We’ve time.’

  ‘Says he’s coming up to the house.’

  ‘Sent for the Rolls?’

  ‘No. Probably wants to talk private. And it looks as if he’s planning to stay away some time. Ordered a bag packed for a week.’

  ‘Seven white suits.’ Mitchell hung up.

  Roomer said: ‘Looks as if we’re going to have to do some bag-packing ourselves.’ Mitchell nodded and switched on again.

  Lord Worth was looking his old self when he settled in the back seat of their car. Not quite radiating his old bonhomie, to be sure, but calm and lucid and, to all appearances, relaxed. He told of his success in Washington, for which he was duly and politely congratulated. Roomer then told him in detail what had happened in his absence: this time the absence of congratulations was marked.

  ‘You’ve notified Commander Larsen of your suspicions, of course?’

  ‘Not suspicions,’ Mitchell said. ‘Certainties. And there’s no “of course” and no, we didn’t notify him. I’m primarily responsible for that.’

  ‘Taking the law into your own hands, eh? Mind telling me why?’

  ‘You’re the person who knows Larsen best. You know how possessive he is about the Seawitch. You yourself have told us about his anger and violence. Do you think a man like that, duly forewarned, wouldn’t have a very warm reception waiting for the kidnappers? Stray bullets, ricocheting bullets, are no respecters of persons, Lord Worth. You want a daughter crippled for life? We prefer that the kidnappers establish a bloodless beach-head.’

  ‘Well, all right.’ The words came grudgingly. ‘But f
rom now on keep me fully informed of your intentions and decisions.’ Lord Worth, Roomer noted with sardonic amusement, had no intention of dispensing with their unpaid services. ‘But no more taking the law into your own hands, do you hear?’

  Mitchell stopped car and engine. Roomer’s amusement changed to apprehension. Mitchell twisted in his seat and looked at Lord Worth in cool speculation.

  ‘You’re a fine one to talk.’

  ‘What do you mean, sir?’ There were fifteen generations of Highland aristocracy in the glacial voice.

  Mitchell remained unmoved. ‘For taking the law into your own hands by breaking into and robbing that armoury last night. If Roomer and I were decent citizens and law-abiding detectives, we’d have had you behind bars last night. Not even a billionaire can get off with that sort of thing, especially when it involves the assault and locking up of the armoury guards. John and I were there.’ Mitchell was not above a little prevarication when the need arose.

  ‘You were there?’ Most rarely for him, Lord Worth was at a loss for words. He recovered quickly. ‘But I wasn’t there.’

  ‘We know that. We also know you sanctioned the break-in. Ordered it, rather.’

  ‘Balderdash. And if you actually witnessed this, why did you not stop it?’

  ‘John and I take our chances. But not against nine men armed with nine machine-guns.’

  This gave Lord Worth to pause. They had their figures and facts right. Clearly they had been there. He said: ‘Supposing any of this rigmarole were true, how in God’s name do you tie me up with this?’

  ‘Now you’re being a fool. We were also at your heliport. We saw the truck arrive. We saw nine men unload a fairly massive quantity of more than fairly lethal weaponry into one helicopter. Then a man drove the truck away–an army truck, of course–back to the armoury from where it had been stolen. The other eight men boarded another helicopter. Then a mini-bus arrived, carrying twelve heavily-armed thugs, who joined the other eight. John and I recognized no fewer than five of them–two of them we’ve personally put behind bars.’ Roomer looked at him admiringly, but Mitchell wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at Lord Worth, and both voice and tone were bereft of any form of encouragement. ‘It came as a shock to both of us to find that Lord Worth was consorting with common criminals. Your brow is very damp, Lord Worth. Why is it very damp?’

  Lord Worth didn’t enlighten them as to the reason why his brow was damp.

  ‘And then, of course, you came along in the Rolls. One of the very best sequences we got on our infra-red ciné camera last night.’ Roomer choked, but the peculiar coughing sound had no effect on Lord Worth, who was now perspiring freely. That Lord Worth believed Mitchell, Roomer did not for a moment doubt: everything that Mitchell had said, even the slight embellishments, Lord Worth knew or believed to be true, so he had no reason to doubt the truth of the ciné camera fiction.

  ‘We actually debated phoning the nearest army HQ and have them send along some armoured cars and a trailered tank. Even your murderous thugs would have stood no chance. We thought of going down the road, blocking the Rolls and holding you until the army arrived–it was perfectly obvious that the helicopters had no intention of leaving until you turned up. Once captured, God knows how many of them–especially those who had already served prison terms–would have jumped at the chance of turning State’s evidence and incriminating you. It’s quite true, you know–there is no honour among thieves.’ If Lord Worth had any objection to being categorized as a thief it didn’t register in his face. ‘But after the standard bit of soul-searching we decided against it.’

  ‘Why, in God’s name?’

  ‘So you admit it.’ Mitchell sighed. ‘Why couldn’t you do that at the beginning and save me all this trouble?’

  ‘Why?’ Lord Worth repeated his question.

  It was Roomer who answered. ‘Partly because even though you’re a confessed law-breaker, we still have a regard for you. But it’s chiefly because we didn’t want to see your daughters confronted with the unedifying spectacle of seeing their father behind bars. In hindsight, of course, we’re extremely glad we didn’t. In comparison with the kidnapping of your daughters, your own ventures outside the law fade into something that is comparatively a peccadillo.’

  Mitchell started the motor again and said: ‘It is understood that there will be no more such peccadilloes again. It is also understood that there will be no more silly talk as to whether we take the law into our own hands or not.’

  Lord Worth lay back in his study armchair. His second brandy tasted just as good as his first–it seemed to be his day for brandies. He hadn’t spoken a word for the rest of the trip which, fortunately, had been mercifully short, for Lord Worth had felt urgently in need of restoratives. Not for the first time he found himself silently blessing his kidnapped daughters.

  He cleared his throat and said: ‘I assume you are still willing to come out to the rig with me?’

  Mitchell contemplated his glass. ‘We never expressed our intentions one way or another about that. But I suppose someone has to look after you and your daughters.’

  Lord Worth frowned. There had, he felt, been more than a subtle change in their relationships. Perhaps the establishment of an employer-employee status would help redress the balance. He said: ‘I feel it’s time we put your co-operation on a business-like footing. I propose to retain you in your professional capacities as investigators, in other words to become your client. I shall not quibble at your demanded fees.’ He had no sooner finished than he realized that he had made a mistake.

  Roomer’s voice was coldly unenthusiastic. ‘Money doesn’t buy everything, Lord Worth. Particularly, it doesn’t buy us. What you are proposing is that you establish a moral ascendancy on the basis of the man who pays the piper calls the tune. We have no intention of being shackled, of having our freedom of action curtailed. And as to the question of fees and your “sky’s-the-limit” inference, the hell with your fees. How often do you have to be told that we don’t barter money for your daughters’ lives?’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ Mitchell said. ‘Couldn’t have put it better myself.’

  Lord Worth didn’t even bother frowning. The change in relationship, he reflected sadly, had been even greater than he had realized. ‘As you will. One assumes that you will be suitably disguised?’

  Mitchell said: ‘Why?’

  Lord Worth was impatient. ‘You said you saw some ex-convicts boarding the helicopter. People you recognized. They’ll surely recognize you?’

  ‘We never saw any of them before in our lives.’

  Lord Worth was properly shocked. ‘But you told me–’

  ‘You told us big black lies. What’s a little white lie? Let’s go aboard as–say–your technological advisers. Geologists, seismologists–it’s all the same to us, we know nothing about geology or seismology. All we need are a couple of well-cut business suits, panamas, horn-rimmed glasses with plain lenses–for the studious look–and briefcases.’ He paused. ‘And we’ll also need a doctor, with full medical kit and a large supply of bandages.’

  ‘A doctor?’

  ‘For extracting bullets, sewing up gunshot wounds. Or are you so naïve as to believe that there will be no shot fired in anger aboard the Seawitch?’

  ‘I abhor violence.’

  ‘Sure. That’s why you sent twenty heavily-armed thugs out to the Seawitch during the night? Fine, so you abhor violence. Others welcome it. Can you lay hands on such a doctor?’

  ‘Dozens of them. The average doctor hereabouts rates his scanning of X-rays a very poor second to the scanning of his bank balances. I know the man. Greenshaw. After seven years in Vietnam, he should fit your bill.’

  Roomer said: ‘And ask him to bring along two spare white lab-coats.’

  ‘Why?’ Mitchell said.

  ‘Want to look scientific, don’t you?’

  Lord Worth picked up the phone, made the arrangements, replaced the receiver and said: ‘You must excuse me. I have s
ome private calls to make from the radio room.’ Lord Worth’s sole reason for returning to his house was to contact his inside man, Corral, and have him, without incriminating himself, inform Benson, who had hosted the Lake Tahoe meeting, that the Government intended to blast out of the water any foreign naval ships that approached the Seawitch. An exaggeration but, Lord Worth thought, a pardonable one. Despite the Secretary’s promise, Lord Worth placed more faith in his direct approach.

  Mitchell said: ‘Which one of us do you want to go with you?’

  ‘What do you mean? “Private”, I said.’ His face darkened in anger. ‘Am I to be ordered around in my own house, supervised as if I’m an irresponsible child?’

  ‘You behaved responsibly last night? Look, Lord Worth, if you don’t want either of us around, then it’s obvious you want to say something that you don’t want us to hear.’ Mitchell gave him a speculative look. ‘I don’t like that. You’re either up to something shady if you like, or it’s a vote of no confidence in us.’

  ‘It’s a personal and highly important business call. I don’t see why you should be privy to my business affairs.’

  Roomer said: ‘I agree. But it so happens that we don’t think that it is a business call, that business would be the last thing in your mind at such a time.’ Both Mitchell and Roomer stood up. ‘Give our regards to the girls–if you ever find them.’

  ‘Blackmail! Damned blackmail!’ Lord Worth rapidly weighed the importance of his call to Corral compared to the importance of having Mitchell and Roomer around. It took all of two seconds to make up his mind, and Corral was clear out of sight at the winning post. He was sure that the two men were bluffing, but there was no way he could call their bluff, for that was the one sure way of provoking a genuine walk-out.

  Lord Worth put on his stony face. ‘I suppose I have no option other than to accede to your threats. I suggest you go and pack your bags and I’ll pick you up in the Rolls.’

  Mitchell said: ‘Packing will take minutes. I feel it would be much more polite if we were to wait here until you’re ready.’