The Enemy Page 7

  'What are you getting at?'

  'McCulloch and Ross is a cover for a sort of discreet government department dealing mainly with economic and industrial affairs in so far as they impinge on state security.'

  "State security! You mean you're some sort of secret agent. A spy?'

  I laughed and held up my hands. 'Not a spy. We're not romantic types with double-0 numbers and a licence to kill-no nonsense like that.'

  'But you were watching and investigating my father like a common spy.' Anger flamed in her. 'And was I just a means to an end? Did you snuggle up to me just to get to know him better?'

  I lost the smile fast-this was where the crunch came. 'Christ, no I didn't know a damned thing about him until yesterday, and I don't know much more now. Believe me when I say it was something I stumbled into by accident.'

  She was disbelieving and contemptuous. 'And just what did you stumble into?'

  'I can't tell you that because I don't know myself.'

  She shook her head as though momentarily dizzy. 'That man in the hall-those men outside: are they in your department, too?'

  'Yes.'

  'Then I'd like to talk to the man in charge.' She stood up. 'I'd like to tell him just what I think of all this. I knew Daddy was under pressure. Now I know where it was coming from.'

  I said deliberately, 'You're talking to the man in charge, and you're dead wrong.'

  That stopped her. She sat down with a bump. 'You are in charge?'

  'That's right.'

  'And you don't know what you're doing?' she laughed hysterically.

  'I know what I'm doing, but I don't know why. There's a hierarchy of levels, Penny-wheels within wheels. Let me tell you how I got into this.'

  So I told her. I told her everything, holding nothing back. I told her about Nellie and the colour codes; I told her about Ogilvie and Lord Cregar. I told her a damned sight more than I ought to have done, and to hell with the Official Secrets Act.

  She heard me out, then said thoughtfully, 'Your people aren't very trusting, are they?'

  'They're not in the trust business.' I lit a cigarette. 'The pressure didn't come from us, Penny. We threw no acid. We came into it after that, and my brief was to watch over your father and protect him-your father, you and Gillian, and Benson, too, if I thought it necessary.' I walked over to the window and looked at the cars. The gang had all arrived. 'I've not done a very good job so far.'

  'It's not your fault that Daddy went away.' Her words hung heavily in the air, and she seemed to take another look at her father. 'That he ran away.'

  I turned to her. 'Don't start blaming him without knowing what you're blaming him for.'

  She said pensively, 'I wonder if he'd still want me to marry you, if he knew what I know now?'

  'I'll ask him as soon as I catch up with him,' I said grimly.

  'You're not going after him?' She picked up her letter. 'He said…'

  'I know what he said. I also know he's regarded by my people as a very important man, and he may be going into danger without knowing it. I still have my job to do.'

  'But he doesn't want…'

  I said impatiently, 'What he wants or doesn't want is immaterial.' I plucked the letter from her fingers and scanned it. 'He says he doesn't want you to go looking for him. Well, you won't-I will. He says not to involve the police. Right; they haven't been told. He says, "I will come to no harm because my old friend, Benson, will be looking after me." Good God, Penny, how old is Benson? He must be pushing sixty-five. He's in no position to protect himself, let alone anyone else.'

  She started to weep. She didn't sob or make an outcry, but the tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She cried silently and helplessly, and she was shivering as though suddenly very cold. I put my arm around her and she clung to me with a fierce grip. One of the worst things that can happen is when a hitherto cosy and secure world falls apart. An icy wind seemed to be blowing through that pleasant panelled study from the greater and more vicious world outside.

  'Oh, Malcolm, what am I to do?'

  I said very quietly, 'You must do what you think is best. If you trust me you will help me find him, but I wouldn't-I couldn't-blame you if you refuse. I haven't been open with you-I should have told you about this yesterday.'

  'But you were under orders.'

  'A common plea,' I said. 'All the Nazis made it.'

  'Malcolm, don't make it harder for yourself than you have to.' She put my arm aside, stood up, and went to the window. 'What are your men waiting for?'

  I took a deep breath. 'For your decision. I want to search the house, and I can't do that without your permission.'

  She came back to the desk and read her father's letter again. I said, 'He wrote to me, too,' and produced the letter. 'You can read it if you like.'

  She read it, then gave it back to me. 'Bring in your men,' she said tunelessly.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We found a number of surprising things in that house but nothing that did us much good, at least, not then. In the basement there was a remarkably well-equipped workshop and chemical laboratory, way beyond amateur standard. There was also a small computer with a variety of input and output peripherals including an X-Y plotter. Still on the plotter was a sketch which had been drawn under computer control; it seemed to be a schematic of a complicated molecule and it made no sense to me, but then I'm no expert. For bigger problems with which the little computer couldn't cope there was a modem and an acoustic coupler so that the little chap could be used as a terminal to control a big computer by way of the post office land lines.

  In the workshop was a bench on which a thingamajig was under construction. Whatever it was intended to do it was going to do under computer control because there were no fewer than fifteen integrated-circuit microelectronic chips built into it, and that's a fair amount of computing power. Also coupled into it was a laser, a cathode ray tube, a lot of laboratory glassware and a couple of gadgets I didn't recognize.

  I didn't snap any switches or push any of the unlabelled buttons because I didn't know what would happen if I did. Instead I said to Larry, 'Any of Ashton's firms connected with electronics or computers?'

  'No, just chemicals and plastics moulding. Some of the chemical processes might be computer-controlled, though.'

  I grunted and had the entire basement sealed. The boffins from the department would have to check it out, and I wasn't going to touch anything until they had done so.

  Penny had the combination for the safe in the study, and I knew by that we were unlikely to find anything of consequence in it. I was right. There was a bit of money, less than?50, which was not much considering Ashton's resources-I suppose it was emergency pocket money. There were some account books on which I wasted some time until I discovered they related to the running of the household, the stables and the cars. All very orderly. There was a whole sheaf of balance sheets headed with the name of the firm of accountants, Howard and Page. A quick glance at the bottom lines told me that George Ashton was doing very nicely, thank you, in spite of the economic recession.

  And that was all.

  Ashton's own quarters were a bit more productive. He had a suite-bedroom, bathroom, dressing room and sitting room which were as clean as a whistle. He seemed to live somewhat spartanly, there was less than the usual amount of junk which a man tends to accumulate and it was all very clean and tidy. There was nothing at all in any of the pockets of the clothes hanging in the wardrobes; whoever did his valeting-Benson probably-did a good job.

  But a considerable amount of panel-tapping discovered a tambour which, when slid aside after a complicated procedure involving switching on certain lights in all four rooms thus releasing an electrically-controlled lock, revealed a massive metal door of armour-plated steel. The way I've described that might make you think we were lucky to find it, but it wasn't luck. The boys were good at their jobs.

  Not good enough to open that vault door, though. After Simpson had done some architectur
al measuring with a tape I knew that beyond that door was not merely a safe but a sizeable room, big enough to swing a kitten in, if not a cat. Now, any man who would put a door like that as entrance to a room would be sure to take other precautions. The walls, floor and ceiling would be very thick concrete, well reinforced with toughened steel, and the whole package would weigh a lot even when empty. It was on the second floor which meant that a special underpinning structure must have been built to support it. I made a note to look up Ashton's architect.

  When the vault door was shown to Penny she was as surprised as anyone. She had never suspected its existence.

  All this doesn't mean that I was prowling about the house personally knocking on walls. I left that to the boys and only inspected the results when they came in. I supervised the search of Ashton's study in Penny's presence, then settled down to talk to her because I assumed she would know more about her father than anyone else.

  'Benson,' I said. 'How long have you known Benson?'

  She looked surprised. 'He's always been around.'

  'That's a long time. How long is always?'

  'Always is always, Malcolm. I can't remember a time when there wasn't Benson.'

  'As long as that? Twenty-five or twenty-six years?'

  Penny smiled. 'Longer than that. He was with Daddy before I was born.'

  'Always is a long time,' I agreed. 'He does the faithful family retainer bit very well, I must say. But he's more than that, isn't he?'

  She crinkled her brow. 'I don't know. That's difficult to assess. When a man had been with a family as long as Benson he tends to become regarded as more of a friend than a servant.'

  'To the extent that your father would share a bottle of whisky with him?'

  'I don't think he ever did that.'

  'He did on Sunday night,' I observed. 'Has Benson always been a personal servant to your father?'

  She thought for a moment. 'We moved into the house in 1961-I was twelve then. It was then Benson moved in here as Daddy's valet and dogsbody. Before that we had a house in Slough; just a little one, nothing as grand as this. Benson worked in one of Daddy's factories, but he visited the house quite often-at least once a week.' She smiled. 'He was one of our favourites. He used to bring us sweets-forbidden fruit because Daddy didn't like us to eat too many sweets. Benson used to smuggle them to us.'

  'What was Benson doing in the factory?'

  'I don't know. I was only a little girl.'

  'When did your mother die, Penny?'

  'When I was four.'

  I thought that was bad luck on Ashton, having to bring up two small daughters. Still, he hadn't made a bad job of it. It seemed he didn't make a bad job of anything. I said, 'Do you know how your father got started? I mean, how did he start in business? Did he have inherited money, for instance?'

  She shook her head vigorously. 'Daddy never talked much about his early life but I know he didn't inherit anything because he was an orphan brought up in a foundling home. He was in the army during the war and when he came out he met my grandfather and they set up in business together. They didn't have much money at the time, so my grandfather said before he died. He said Daddy's brains made it a success.'

  'What was he in the army?' I asked idly.

  'Just a private.'

  That surprised me. Ashton would have been twenty-six or twenty-seven when he was demobbed and it was strange that a man of his drive and character should still have been a private soldier. Perhaps his army record would bear looking into.

  'Did your father ever carry a gun?'

  She misunderstood me. 'He did rough shooting at times, but not often.'

  'I don't mean a shotgun. I mean a revolver or automatic pistol.'

  'Lord, no! He hasn't got such a thing.'

  'Would you know?'

  'Of course I would.'

  'You didn't know about that strong room upstairs.'

  She was silent and bit her lip, then said, 'You think he's armed?'

  I was saved from answering that because Larry popped his head around the door. 'Can I have a word, Malcolm?' I nodded and joined him in the hall. He said, 'Gillian Ashton's rooms are clean, nothing there of' consequence. I read her diaries; she seems to live a quiet, upper-middle-class life-theatre, ballet, opera and so on. She reads a lot, too.'

  'Not any more. Any liaisons?'

  'Nothing very strong; a string of men who appeared one at a time and then petered out after a while.' He grinned. 'No mysterious assignations with people referred to by only their initials, nothing like that.'

  'What about Penny's rooms? Have you checked there?'

  Larry looked at me a bit queerly. 'But I thought…'

  'I don't care what you thought,' I said evenly. 'Do it.'

  'Okay.' He went downstairs again, and I thought that young Larry still had a lot to learn.

  I was about to return to the study when Michaelis came through the hall. I said, 'Found anything?'

  'Nothing for us. But in an attic there's the damnedest thing-the biggest model railway set-up I've seen in my life.'

  'Model railway!' I said incredulously.

  'It's a real enthusiast's job,' he said. 'I'm a bit keen, myself, but I've never seen anything like this. There must be over a mile of HO-gauge track up there-it's like a bloody spider web. You'd have to do some smart scheduling to keep that lot running smoothly.'

  It was a facet of Ashton I wouldn't have dreamed of, but it didn't have a thing to do with the matter at hand. I dismissed it. 'Where's Jack Brent?'

  'Giving the out buildings a going over-the garages and stables.'

  'Tell him I want to see him when he's finished.' I went back into the study and thought it was time to try to find Ogilvie again. I'd been ringing every hour on the hour but each time he'd been out of the office so I'd passed my stuff on to Harrison. I put my hand out to dial again but the telephone shrilled before I got there.

  It was Ogilvie. 'What have you got?' he said abruptly.

  'I've passed it all to Harrison. Have you spoken to him?'

  'No. As you may have gathered the balloon went up on schedule and I've been busy the last few hours. Give me the gist of it.'

  'We've got a bloody big vault here,' I said. 'Not a safe, but a professional bank vault. We'll need experts to open it, and it'll probably take them a week.'

  'It had better not,' said Ogilvie. 'You'll have them within the hour. What else?'

  'I'd like some boffins-electronic and chemical. There's a cellar full of scientific stuff to look at. And you'd better send someone competent in computers.' I grinned. 'And maybe a model railway expert.'

  'What's that?' he barked.

  'Ashton has a model railway layout in his attic. I haven't seen it but I'm told it's quite something.'

  'This is no time to be funny,' said Ogilvie acidly. 'What else?'

  'Damn all. Nothing of use to us.'

  'Keep looking,' he said sharply. 'A man can't live fifteen years in a house and not leave something of his personality lying around. There'll be some indication of where he's gone.'

  He thought for a moment. 'But I want you back here. Put someone else in charge.'

  'That'll be Gregory,' I said. 'I still have a few things to wrap up-I'll be back in two hours.' I rang off and said to Penny, 'Well, that's it, love. The boss wants me back.'

  She said, 'Just before you went out you said something about Daddy having a gun. What did you mean?'

  'He's armed,' I said.

  She shook her head disbelievingly but, since so many strange things had occurred that day, she could not combat my statement. 'And will you find him?'

  'Oh, we'll find him. What's worrying me is that perhaps someone else is looking for him who will find him first. And the hell of it is we aren't sure, one way or another.'

  Brent came in. 'You want me?'

  I waved him out and joined him in the hall. As I stripped off my jacket I said, 'Find anything?'

  'Nothing.'

  I unhitched the shou
lder-holster from under my left armpit. 'Take this; you might need it.' I waited until he'd put it on, then took him into the study. 'Penny, this is Jack Brent;, he's your guardian angel from now on. He sticks with you everywhere you go, excepting the loo and the bedroom-and he inspects those first.'

  Penny looked at me as though she suspected me of joking. 'Are you serious?'

  'You'll have to find a room for Jack-he'll be living here as long as you do.' I turned to Brent. 'Make yourself acquainted with the burglar precautions here, and make sure the damn things work.'

  He nodded, and said, 'Sorry about this, Miss Ashton; I have to do as I'm told.'

  'Another man under orders,' she said tightly. There were pink anger spots in her cheeks. 'Do you really mean that this man goes everywhere I go?'

  'As long as you want to keep your schoolgirl complexion.'

  Maybe I was a bit brutal about it, but the force of what I said hit her hard. She went very pale. 'My God, Malcolm. What is my father?'

  'I don't know; but I'm going to wring it out of Ogilvie if it's the last thing I do.'

  Jack Brent gave me a look as though he thought it would be the last thing I did. Twisting the boss's arm in any organization is not the way to promotion and that indexed pension.

  I said, 'I have things to do. I'll see you before I go, Penny.' I went to brief Gregory on the latest developments and to hand over to him. I found him with Simpson going over Benson's quarters which were a bit more opulent than you'd expect of a house servant-a three-roomed suite. Gregory and Simpson had torn the place apart on my instructions because I was particularly interested in Benson. 'Any luck?'

  Gregory grunted. 'Not much. There's this.' He pointed to a small can of oil. 'Recommended for gun actions. And we found a single round of ammunition-unfired. It had rolled under the bed and dropped into a crack near the wall.'

  It was a 9 mm parabellum round, popular with the military and the police. 'We know he was armed,' I said. 'Now we know what with-not that it helps. Anything else?'

  'Not yet.'