by Colin Forbes
"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.'
"Then they might know we're coming.'
'They will know we're coming. The chopper will radio a warning to the communications complex Moloch has on top of his mansion.'
'Should we go on? I'm game, but if they're expecting us...'
'Let's see what equipment Marler has brought with him. And Harry always carries his tool kit. There's a high wall round the place with wire on top, probably electrified.'
'Welcome all,' Marler greeted them cheerfully as he shoved something back into the rear of the car.
"That's a telescopic ladder, isn't it?' Newman asked.
'Just that. From what I heard of Moloch he'll have this little cottage with a wall round it.'
'He has.'<
br />
'And, Harry,' Newman went on as Butler approached them, 'it has a wall with a wire, probably electrified.'
'Child's play,' Butler assured him.
"Then we go on up to that architectural masterpiece?' Paula suggested.
Tweed wanted us to check out the place. What Tweed wants, Tweed gets.'
Joel Brand put down the earphones after receiving the coded message from the pilot of the chopper. He hurried down to Moloch's office. Moloch was again studying the map of California with strange wriggly lines. He looked up as Brand burst in with his usual unceremonious manner. Moloch passed the map to him after tearing it into four pieces.
Tut that through the shredder. It must be destroyed.'
Brand stuffed the pieces impatiently in the pocket of his denims, sat down in the carver, bolt upright. Moloch clasped his finely shaped hands and leant back.
'Why don't you calm down, Brand, before you tell me what's on your mind?'
'Because it's a friggin' emergency. Intruders are coming this way in force...'
'What intruders? Please be more specific.'
'I had a radio message from the chopper from the Venetia, which watches over this place. Prior to that, in the radio room upstairs I'd been watching them myself through field glasses. Down by the dam. There was a heavily built guy who looked tough - not that I can't handle that type,' he added aggressively. 'He was with a nice-looking chick, dark haired - hair tied back with a ribbon. Had on a T-shirt and white trousers. Then...'
'Just a moment,' Moloch reached into a drawer, took out a photograph taken secretly in California. He pushed the print across the desk. 'That wouldn't be this girl?'
'Spitting image. A good looker. In this pic she doesn't have her hair tied back, but it's her. No doubt about it . . .'
"This is bad news.' Moloch replaced the photo inside his drawer. This is Tweed's lot. Tweed.' he repeated. 'He has moved fast.'
Tweed isn't Superman...'
'Keep quiet. You don't know what you're talking about. Just the two of them?'
'No! At least four. One is a slim guy wearing a linen suit. Looks like a toff. Then there's a bruiser on a motorbike. They've left the dam and they're heading up the road towards us. I've alerted the boys. They're carrying shotguns. Before you blow your top, farmers are often carrying shotguns - to clear their fields of vermin.'
'Let me think - these people have to be handled carefully, especially as Paula Grey, Tweed's right arm, is with them. She ...'
'The chick's Tweed's girl friend?' Brand sneered.
'No, she is not.' Moloch slapped the palm of his hand on the desk and it sounded like a pistol shot. 'You listen to me. Tweed is a very ethical man. Not that you would ever understand a man like that, but I respect him as a man, as a very formidable opponent. The dogs are to be brought in and chained up in their kennels. That's an order. Try to deal with the situation with finesse...'
'Finesse?'
'Finesse. You probably think that's a French pastry. It means tread carefully. Now get the hell out of my sight...'
Brand, who despite his rough exterior was a good strategist, left Moloch's office, ran up the stairs to the communications room. He had left the radio op. stationed behind his very modern set.
'We're under siege. Send a coded message to the chopper to fly straight back to the Venetia. He's giving the game away that we know intruders are on their way here. Do it yesterday...'
He ran back down the staircase to the back door to check his guards patrolling the grounds. He was passing the litter bin when he remembered the instruction Moloch had given him.
'Frig the shredder,' he muttered to himself.
Pulling out the four pieces of paper, he screwed them up, lifted the plastic lid, dropped the pieces on top of a load of rubbish. Then he ran round the house, met his most reliable thug, Gene Lessinger.
'Call in all the dogs quickly. Shove them in the kennels. All except one. You keep Brute on a leash and take him round the place constantly. Dangerous intruders coming...'
Gene, a lean, bony-faced man with a hideous scar down his right cheek, grinned. His favourite weapon was a knife and he had one tucked inside a sheath suspended from his leather belt.
'When they see Brute they'll run for it.'
"That would be my guess. Get moving...'
Brute was the largest and fiercest of the Dobermanns which prowled the grounds. Brand felt pleased with himself as he continued running round the estate to contact his other guards.
'VB used the word "dogs".' he said to himself. 'He didn't say anything about one dog. And I'm in charge of security in this mob. So come on, Grey and Co. We have an interesting reception party waiting for you.'
Ahead of the small convoy Butler rode his machine along the narrow lane leading uphill towards the strange mansion. He rode slowly now and stopped abruptly as he topped the crest of a hill. Switching off the motor, he freewheeled the bike back a few feet, then held up a hand to stop the Merc, and the Saab.
Newman stopped his car, jumped out and ran to meet Butler with Paula at his heels.
'We're very close.' he warned them. 'Just over that top you can see the house perched on the ridge.'
'Good.' said Newman as Marler joined them. 'Let's take a peek.'
Earlier Newman had outlined a plan with the others. It was based on what he had observed when he had carefully scanned the mansion through his binoculars from near the dam. Marler had added his own suggestions. They walked to the top until they could see. Paula shuddered inwardly at the view.
The ridge which Mullion Towers was perched on looked even bleaker close up. Nothing grew on the long sharp slope descending from the ridge towards the reservoir and the dam far below them now. The slope seemed to consist of dust which, in the scorching sunlight, had a strange, almost yellowish colour.
'Could be the Sahara.' she commented. 'I never realized Cornwall inland could be so uninviting. So different from near the sea with its nice beaches and coves and intriguing creeks.'
Following Newman's example, they were lying alongside each other in the road, their heads peering over the top. Newman again scanned the Gothic-like horror called Mullion Towers, then he handed the binoculars to Marler.
'What do you think of the creeper up the side of the place?'
'Just what I need, I think. I'll only know when I see it close up, but it looks as though it's grown there for years. The stems are thick and gnarled. The plan is going to work, I'm sure - just so long as I reach that creeper unobserved.'
'What is that long knotted rope attached to your telescopic ladder for?' Paula asked.
'All will be clear when we get there. Guards with shotguns are patrolling - but they seem to be concentrating on the front of the house. One has a somewhat unfriendly-looking Dobermann. I'll worry about the little canine.'
'Let's get on with it.' Newman said, sliding backwards before he stood up. 'Interesting the way that chopper has disappeared. I think they recalled it to lull us into a false mood of self-confidence. Assume the worst possible case - that they know we're coming...'
At Park Crescent Tweed sat behind his desk, very still as he gazed towards the windows. Monica knew he was worrying about what was happening in Cornwall. He checked his watch again as the phone rang. Monica answered it. She frowned, repeated her question several times.
'Who is this speaking?'
Then she pressed the secrecy button and called across to Tweed.
'Someone with a strangely hoarse voice insists on speaking to you. They're using the name Waltz.'
'I'll take the call. Tweed here.'
'You should know that while Paula was in Monterey a Vanity Richmond secretly took several pictures of her. I followed her and she sent a package by Federal Express to somewhere in Cornwall. That is all for now.'
"Thank you.' Tweed put down the phone and looked grim. He was still staring out of the window when he told Monica what the caller had said.
'Who is Waltz?' she asked.
'An infor
mant who was present in Monterey at the same time as Paula. It is, of course, a code name.'
'It's not good news.'
'At this juncture it most certainly isn't. I wish I'd had that call yesterday. It means that if our team is spotted approaching Mullion Towers someone may recognize Paula - and know who they are.'
'Oh, my Lord, doesn't that mean the whole enterprise could end in a frightful disaster?'
'Newman can handle any situation, but it doesn't help our finding out what Moloch is up to - I have no doubt he is up to something pretty major. If only we could find out the identity of that girl who was washed ashore at Octopus Cove - and the identity of the same woman who jumped ship off Cornwall.'
'Cord's picture of Julia Sanchez, the girl from Philadelphia who disappeared, and who was Moloch's friend, should arrive at any moment. It might help.'
'It might - and it might not.'
Tweed checked his watch again. 'I reckon from the time Bob called me, from the distance to Stithians on the map, he and his team should just be about ready to assault Mullion Towers - may already be doing so.'
3
Marler led the way back to his Saab, asking the others to come with him. He opened the back door of his car and inside Paula saw a large canvas bag on top of the telescopic ladder.
'I know you're all equipped with weapons,' he said crisply, 'but you may well need extra defences. That bag contains them. Father Christmas is about to give you his toys.'
Diving inside, he opened the large bag, produced a small device like a grenade, handed one to Paula.
"That's the new type of smoke bomb. Press the button on the top and hurl the thing. It will not only fog the enemy, it gives off an acrid smell which will put them out of action for thirty minutes. They then recover quickly. Here are two for you, Paula, two for you, Bob.'
'You've come well prepared,' Paula commented as she examined the device quickly and put it inside her shoulder bag.
'Wait, there's more ...'
'We're starting a small war,' Paula joked.
'It may well be that.' Marler replied.
