Алистер Маклин – Goodbye California (страница 14)

‘Breakaway Muslims,’ Burnett wasn’t through with sneering yet. ‘Why the front?’

‘Front?’ Morro smilingly refused to take umbrage. ‘This is no front, Professor. You would be surprised how many Muslims there are in your State. You’d be surprised how highly placed a large number of them are. You’d be surprised how many of them come here to worship and to meditate – Adlerheim, and not slowly, is becoming a place of pilgrimage in the West. Above all, you’d be surprised how many influential citizens, citizens who cannot afford to have their good name impugned, would vouch for our unassailable good name, dedication and honesty of purpose.’

Dr Schmidt said: ‘If they knew what your real purpose was I wouldn’t be surprised: I’d be utterly incredulous.’

Morro turned his hands palm upwards and looked at his deputy. Dubois shrugged then said: ‘We are respected, trusted and – I have to say this – even admired by the local authorities. And why not? Because Californians not only tolerate and even cherish their eccentrics, regarding them as a protected species? Certainly not. We are registered as a charitable organization and, unlike the vast majority of charities, we do not solicit money, we give it away. In the eight months we have been established we have given over two million dollars to the poor, the crippled, the retarded and to deserving pension funds, regardless of race or creed.’

‘Including police pension funds?’ Burnett wasn’t through with being nasty for the evening.

‘Including just that. There is no question of bribery or corruption.’ Dubois was so open and convincing that disbelief came hard. ‘A quid pro quo you may say for the security and protection that they offer us. Mr Curragh, county Chief of Police, a man widely respected for his integrity, has the whole-hearted support of the Governor of the State in ensuring that we can carry out our good works, peaceful projects and selfless aims without let or hindrance. We even have a permanent police guard at the entrance to our private road down in the valley to ensure that we are not molested.’ Dubois shook his massive head and his face was grave. ‘You would not believe, gentlemen, the number of evilly-intentioned people in this world who derive pleasure from harassing those who would do good.’

‘Sweet Jesus!’ Burnett was clearly trying to fight against speechlessness. ‘Of all the hypocrisy I’ve encountered in my life…You know, Morro, I believe you. I can quite believe that you have – not suborned, not subverted – you have conned or persuaded honest citizens, an honest Chief of Police and an honest police force into believing that you are what you claim to be. I can’t see any reason why they shouldn’t believe you – after all, they have two million good reasons, all green, to substantiate your claims. People don’t throw around a fortune like that for amusement, do they?’

Morro smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re coming round to our point of view.’

‘They don’t throw it around like that unless they are playing for extremely high stakes. Speculate to accumulate – isn’t that it, Morro?’ He shook his head in slow disbelief, remembered the glass in his hand and took further steps to fortify himself against unreality. ‘Out of context, one would be hard put not to believe you. In context, it is impossible.’

‘In context?’

‘The theft of weapons-grade materials and mass kidnapping. Rather difficult to equate that with your alleged humanitarian purposes. Although I have no doubt you can equate anything. All you need is a sick enough mind.’

Morro returned to his seat and propped his chin on his fists. For some reason he had not seen fit to remove the black leather gloves which he had worn throughout. ‘We are not sick. We are not zealots. We are not fanatics. We have but one purpose in mind – the betterment of the human lot.’

‘Which human lot? Yours?’

Morro sighed. ‘I waste my time. Perhaps you think you are here for ransom? You are not. Perhaps you think it is our purpose to compel you and Dr Schmidt to make some kind of crude atomic weapon for us? Ludicrous – no one can compel men of your stature and integrity to do what they do not wish to do. You might think – the world might think – that we might compel you to work by the threat of torturing the other hostages, particularly the ladies? Preposterous. I would remind you again that we are no barbarians. Professor Burnett, if I pointed a six-gun between your eyes and told you not to move, would you move?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘Would you or wouldn’t you?’

‘Of course not.’

‘So, you see, the gun doesn’t have to be loaded. You take my point?’

Burnett remained silent.

‘I will not give you my word that no harm will come to any of you for clearly my word will carry no weight with any of you. We shall just have to wait and see, will we not?’ He smoothed the sheet in front of him. ‘Professor Burnett and Dr Schmidt I know. Mrs Ryder I recognize.’ He looked at a bespectacled young girl with auburn hair and a rather scared expression. ‘You must, of course, be Miss Julie Johnson, stenographer.’

He looked at the three remaining men. ‘Which of you is Mr Haverford, Deputy Director?’

‘I am.’ Haverford was a portly young man with sandy hair and a choleric expression who added as an afterthought: ‘Damn your eyes.’

‘Dear me. And Mr Carlton? Security deputy?’

‘Me.’ Carlton was in his mid-thirties, with black hair, permanently compressed lips and, at that moment, a disgusted expression.

‘You mustn’t reproach yourself.’ Morro was almost kindly. ‘There never has been a security system that couldn’t be breached.’ He looked at the seventh hostage, a pallid young man with thin pale hair whose bobbing Adam’s apple and twitching left eye were competing in sending distress signals. ‘And you are Mr Rollins, from the control room?’ Rollins didn’t say whether he was or not.

Morro folded the sheet. ‘I should like to suggest that when you get to your rooms you should each write a letter. Writing materials you will find in your quarters. To your nearest and dearest, just to let them know that you are alive and well, that – apart from the temporary curtailment of your liberty – you have no complaints of ill treatment and have not been and will not be threatened in any way. You will not, of course, mention anything about Adlerheim or Muslims or anything that could give an indication as to your whereabouts. Leave your envelopes unsealed: we shall do that.’

‘Censorship, eh?’ Burnett’s second Scotch had had no mellowing effect.

‘Don’t be naïve.’

‘And if we – or I – refuse to write?’

‘If you’d rather not reassure your families that’s your decision entirely.’ He looked at Dubois. ‘I think we could have Drs Healey and Bramwell in now.’

Dr Schmidt said: ‘Two of the missing nuclear physicists.’

‘I promised to introduce you to some guests.’

‘Where is Professor Aachen?’

‘Professor Aachen?’ Morro looked at Dubois, who pursed his lips and shook his head. ‘We know no one of that name.’

‘Professor Aachen was the most prestigious of the three nuclear physicists who disappeared some weeks ago.’ Schmidt could be very precise, even pedantic, in his speech.

‘Well, he didn’t disappear in our direction. I have never heard of him. I’m afraid that we cannot accept responsibility for every scientist who chooses to vanish. Or defect.’

‘Defect? Never. Impossible.’

‘I’m afraid that’s been exactly the reaction of American and British colleagues of scientists who have found the attractions of State-subsidized flats in Moscow irresistible. Ah! Your non-defecting colleagues, gentlemen.’

Apart from a six-inch difference in height Healey and Bramwell were curiously alike. Dark, with thin, intelligent faces and identical horn-rimmed glasses and wearing neat, conservatively-cut clothes, they would not have looked out of place in a Wall Street boardroom. Morro didn’t have to make any introductions: top-ranking nuclear physicists form a very close community. Characteristically, it occurred to neither Burnett nor Schmidt to introduce their companions in distress.

After the customary hand-shaking, gripping of upper arms and not-so-customary regrets that their acquaintance should be renewed in such deplorable circumstances, Healey said: ‘We were expecting you. Well, colleagues?’ Healey favoured Morro with a look that lacked cordiality.

Burnett said: ‘Which was more than we did of you.’ By ‘we’ he clearly referred only to Schmidt and himself. ‘But if you’re here we expected Willi Aachen to be with you.’

‘I’d expected the same myself. But no Willi. Morro here is under the crackpot delusion that he may have defected. Man had never even heard of him, far less met him.’

‘“Crackpot” is right,’ Schmidt said, then added grudgingly: ‘You two look pretty fit, I must say.’

‘No reason why not.’ It was Bramwell. ‘An enforced and unwanted holiday, but the seven most peaceful weeks I’ve had in years. Ever, I suppose. Walking, eating, sleeping, drinking and, best, no telephone. Splendid library, as you can see, and in every suite colour TV for the weak-minded.’

‘Suite?’

‘You’ll see. Those old-time billionaires didn’t begrudge themselves anything. Any idea why you are here?’