‘They’re not mutually exclusive either.’
‘Does the FBI have their names?’
‘Of course. Thousands of them.’
‘Forget it. If you were to lock up all the nonconformists in this State you’d have half the population behind bars.’
‘And maybe the wrong half at that.’ Dunne was pensive. ‘You mentioned the word “organized”. We do have groups of what you might call organized and successful cranks.’
‘Subversives?’
‘Weirdos. But weirdos who have managed to put it together in an acceptable and comprehensible fashion. Acceptable and comprehensible to them, that is.’
‘Many of those so-called organized groups?’
‘Haven’t seen the list lately. Couple of hundred perhaps.’
‘Just a handful. No stone unturned, is that it?’
‘And no avenue unexplored. I’ll get a list. But that’s not what you’re interested in. This Morro character. Fictitious name, of course. May have disfigurement or damage to hands and right eye. That’s easy. Number four?’
‘Bit more personal, Major.’ Ryder slid a photograph and piece of paper across the table. ‘I want this person taken care of.’
Dunne looked at the photograph with appreciation. ‘Lovely young lady. Obviously no relation of yours, so what’s the connection?’
‘Peggy. My daughter.’
‘Ah!’ Dunne was not an easy man to knock off stride. ‘Mrs Ryder must be a beautiful person.’
‘Well, thank you very much.’ Ryder smiled. ‘She’s a sophomore at San Diego. The address is the flat she shares with three other girls. Tried to phone her – that’s her number there – but no reply. I’m sure one of your men could find out where she is in no time. I’d like her to know what’s happened before she finds out on the radio or TV in some crowded discotheque.’
‘No problem. But that’s not all, is it? You said “taken care of”.’
‘They already have my wife. If Donahure is tied into this – and I’ll know within an hour – Morro and his friends might not like me.’
‘The request is unusual.’
‘So are the circumstances.’ Dunne was hesitating. ‘You have children, Major?’
‘Damnit, yes. I mean, damn you, yes. How old is Peggy?’
‘Eighteen.’
‘So’s my Jane. Blackmail, Sergeant, downright blackmail. All right, all right. But you know I’m supposed to be co-operating closely with Donahure. You’re putting me in a difficult position.’
‘What kind of position do you think I’m in?’ He looked up as pink pantaloons approached their table and looked at Ryder.
‘You Mr Green?’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘Caller said a wide man in a dark suit. You’re the only wide man in a dark suit here. Phone’s this way.’
Ryder followed and picked up the phone. ‘Well-built, my lad, not wide. What news?’
‘Raminoff’s been and left. Houseboy drove him. Still bleeding. Gone to some struck-off quack, probably.’
‘Donahure there?’
‘I don’t imagine Raminoff spent five minutes talking to the houseboy.’
‘Meet you at the corner of Fourth and Hawthorne. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen.’
Ryder had arrived back at his table but had not yet sat down when pink pantaloons appeared again. ‘Another call, Mr Green.’
Ryder was back inside a minute. He sat and brought out his flask again.
‘Two calls. The stake-out did in fact report back to Donahure. Going out there in a minute.’ Under Dunne’s puzzled gaze Ryder gulped the contents of his refilled glass. ‘Second call was from John Aaron. You know him?’
‘The Examiner? I know him.’
‘AP and Reuters are burning up the wires. Gentleman called them. You’d never guess the name he gave.’
‘Morro.’
‘Morro it was. Said he’d engineered the San Ruffino break-in of which he was sure they knew nothing about. Gave in specific detail the amount of Uranium Two-Three-Five and plutonium that had been taken, and asked any interested party to check with the power station. Also gave names and addresses of hostages and asked all interested parties to contact their relatives to check.’
Dunne was calm. ‘No more than what you expected. Your phone must be ringing constantly at the moment. Any threats?’
‘None. Just thought he’d let us know and give us time to consider the implications.’
‘Aaron say when the news is being released?’
‘Be an hour at least. TV and radio stations are jittery as hell. They don’t know whether it’s a hoax, or not, and they don’t want to appear the biggest fools in the West. Also, even if it were true, they’re not sure whether they’d be contravening national security regulations. Personally I’ve never heard of any such regulations. They’re apparently waiting confirmation and clearance from the AEC. If they get it there’ll be a simultaneous State-wide release at eleven.’
‘I see. Well, it gives me plenty of time to get a man around to your Peggy.’
I’d much appreciate that. In the circumstances, most people would have forgotten all about a mere teenager.’
‘I told you. I have one. She doesn’t think she’s there at all. You have your car?’ Ryder nodded. ‘If you drop me off at my place I’ll get hold of San Diego and have a couple of men assigned to the job in ten minutes. No sweat.’ Dunne became thoughtful. ‘You won’t be able to say that about the citizens of this State tomorrow. They’ll be sweating buckets. Clever lad, this Morro. Mustn’t underestimate him. He’s craftily reversed the old maxim of better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. Now it’s a case of worse the devil you don’t know than the devil you do. He’ll have everyone in fits.’
‘Yes. The citizens of San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Sacramento all wondering who’s going to be the first for vaporization, and each hoping to hell it’s going to be one of the other three.’
‘You seriously think that, Sergeant?’
‘I haven’t really had time to think about anything. I’m just trying to imagine how other people would think. No, I don’t seriously think so. Clever men like our friend Morro have an objective in mind, and indiscriminate annihilation wouldn’t be any way to achieve that. Threats would be enough.’
‘That’s what I would think. But, then, it will take the public some time to realize – if they ever do – that we’re up against a person of that kind of cunning.’
‘And for such a person the mental climate is just right. For him, it couldn’t be better.’ Ryder ticked off his fingers. ‘We’ve had the bubonic plague bugaboo. Didn’t come to much, granted, but it scared half the people out of their wits. Then the swine fever – you could say exactly the same about that. Now practically everybody in the State, especially those on the coast, has this obsessive and – what’s the word? –’
‘Paranoid?’
‘I didn’t make college. This paranoid fear about when the next, the biggest and perhaps the last earthquake is going to come. And now this. The nuclear holocaust – we know, at least we think we know there isn’t going to be any such thing. But try convincing people of that.’ Ryder laid money on the table. ‘At least it should take their minds off earthquakes for the time being.’
Ryder met Jeff as arranged. They left their cars at the intersection and made their way on foot up Hawthorne Drive, a steep, narrow and winding lane lined with palms.
‘The houseboy’s back,’ Jeff said. ‘He came back alone, so I should imagine Raminoff’s either having his nose set or is being detained for the night in the casualty ward. The house-boy and his wife don’t sleep in the house – there’s a little bungalow at the foot of the garden. They’re both inside there, for the night, I take it. Up this bank here.’
They scrambled up a grassy bank, pulled themselves over a wall and parted some rose bushes. Donahure’s house was built round three sides of an oblong swimming pool, with the centre section, a long, low living-room, brightly i
lluminated. The night had turned cool and steam over the pool hung motionless in the still night air, but not so opaque as to prevent the watchers seeing Donahure, glass in hand, pacing heavily up and down. The sliding glass doors were opened wide.
‘Go down to the corner there,’ Ryder said. ‘Hide in the bushes. I’ll get as close as I can to that lounge. When I wave my arm attract his attention.’
They took up position, Jeff among the rose bushes, Ryder, on the other side of the pool, in the dark shadow between two yew trees. (The Californians, unlike Europeans, do not relegate their yews and cypresses to graveyards.) Jeff made a loud moaning sound. Donahure stopped his pacing, listened, went to the opening between the sliding glass doors and listened again. Jeff repeated the sound. Donahure slipped off his shoes and padded silently across the tiles, a gun in his hand. He had taken only five steps when the butt of the Smith & Wesson caught him behind the right ear.
They used a pair of Donahure’s own handcuffs to secure him to the standpipe of a radiator, Scotch Tape from his desk to gag him and a table runner to blindfold him.
Ryder said: ‘The main entrance will be at the back. Go down to the bungalow and check that the houseboy and his wife are still there. When you return lock it, and if anyone rings don’t answer. Lock every door and window in the house. Pull the curtains here then start on that desk. I’ll be in his bedroom. If there’s anything to be found it will be in one of those two rooms.’
‘Still don’t know what we’re looking for?’
‘No. Something that would make you lift an eyebrow if you saw it in your house or mine.’ He looked around the room. ‘No sign of a safe – and you can’t have secret wall-safes in a wooden house.’
‘If I had as much on my conscience as you say he has I wouldn’t have anything in the house. I’d have it in a bank safe-deposit. Well, at least you’ve got the satisfaction of knowing that he’ll have a headache when he wakes.’ Jeff thought. ‘He could have a study or office or den – lots of these houses do.’
Ryder nodded and left. There was no such study. The first bedroom he came to was plainly unoccupied. The second bedroom was Donahure’s. Ryder used a pencil flash, established that the curtains of both windows were open, closed them and switched on overhead and bedside lights.
The immaculate room clearly reflected the efficient tidiness of the houseboy’s wife, a tidiness that made Ryder’s task that much easier. Ryder was painstaking, methodical, took all of fifteen minutes for his search and found nothing, for there was nothing to find. For all that, he made an interesting discovery. One wall cupboard was given over to a positive armoury of weapons – revolvers, automatics, shotguns and rifles with a copious supply of ammunition to match. There was nothing sinister in this: many American gun buffs had their own private armouries, frequently setting aside an entire gun-room to display them. But two particular weapons caught his attention – peculiarly-shaped light-weight rifles of a type not to be found in any gun store in America. Ryder took them both and a box of matching ammunition then, for good measure, pocketed three of the splendid collection of handcuffs that Donahure had hanging from hooks on the side. All those items he laid on the bed while he went to examine the bathroom. There was nothing there that there shouldn’t have been. He picked up his newly acquired possessions from the bed and rejoined Jeff.
Donahure, chin slumped on his chest, appeared to be asleep. With the rifle barrel Ryder prodded him far from gently in the region of his expansive solar plexus. He was asleep. Jeff was sitting by the desk looking down into an opened drawer. Ryder said: ‘Anything?’
‘Yes.’ Jeff looked pleased with himself. ‘I’m a slow starter but when I get going –’
‘What do you mean, a slow starter?’
‘Desk was locked. Took me some time to find the key – it was at the bottom of Fatso’s holster.’ Jeff deposited a bundle of currency notes on the table. They were in eight separate lots, each secured with an elastic band.
‘Hundreds of bills, all small denominations, looks like. What’s Donahure doing with hundreds of bills?’
‘What indeed? Got any gloves?’
‘Now he asks me. Do I have any gloves? Masks – hoods, rather – because you told me. Now that I – and I suppose you – have smeared fingerprints all over the shop you ask for gloves.’
‘Our fingerprints don’t matter. You think Donahure is going to report this matter and complain about the disappearance of all this money which we are about to take with us? I just want you to count the stuff and not smear up fingerprints. Old notes are no good, they could carry a hundred smears. Maybe some new notes. Count from the bottom left – most people and most tellers count from the top right.’
‘Where did you get those toys from?’
‘From Donahure’s toy shop.’ Ryder looked at the two rifles. ‘Always wanted one of those. Thought you might want one too.’
‘Rifles you have.’
‘Not those. I’ve never seen one. I’ve seen a diagram.’
‘What are they?’
‘You’ll be surprised. Unobtainable in this country. We think we make the best rifles in the world. The British think they do and the Belgians think the same of their own Nato rifles. Well, we don’t think, we say. But they all know that this is the best Light, deadly accurate, can be stripped down in seconds and hidden in the pockets of your top-coat. Splendid weapon for terrorists – as the British soldiers in Northern Ireland have found out to their cost.’
‘The IRA have those?’
‘Yes. It’s called the kalashnikov. If a person’s hunting you at night with one of those fitted with infra-red telescopic sights you might as well shoot yourself. Or so they say.’
‘Russian?’
‘Yes.’
‘Catholics and Communists make strange bedfellows.’
‘The people who use those in Northern Ireland are Protestants. An extremist splinter-group officially disowned by the IRA. Not that the Communists care very much with whom they associate as long as they can stir up trouble.’
Jeff took one of the rifles, examined it, looked at the unconscious Donahure and then at Ryder.
Ryder said: ‘Don’t ask me. All I know about our friend’s early background is that he’s a first-generation American.’
‘From Northern Ireland?’
‘From Northern Ireland. Fits in neatly. Probably fits in too neatly.’
‘Donahure – a Communist?’
‘We mustn’t look for a Red under every bush. No law against it – well, not since McCarthy departed the scene. I don’t think so, anyway. He’s too stupid and too selfish to be interested in any ideology. That’s not to say, of course, that he wouldn’t accept their money. Count those notes and then check the rest of the desk. I’ll go over the rest of the room.’
Ryder looked while Jeff counted. After some minutes Jeff looked up, his face alight. ‘Boy, this is interesting. Eight packets of notes, each containing one-thousand, two-hundred-and-fifty dollars. Ten thousand.’
‘So I was wrong. He’s now got an eighth unofficial bank account. Very interesting, I agree. But nothing to get excited about.’
‘No? There are several new notes in each packet. I’ve only made a quick check but as far as I can see they’re in series. And they’re the bicentennial two dollar notes.’
‘Ah, this is interesting. The one the ungrateful American public turned their thumbs down on. The Treasury had carloads of the stuff printed but there’s only a small percentage of it in circulation. If they really are in series, the FBI should be able to trace it without trouble.’
Nothing more came to light and they left five minutes later after freeing a now-stirring Donahure of his handcuffs, Scotch Tape and blindfold.
Major Dunne was still in his office, handling two phones at the same time. When he’d hung up Ryder said: ‘Not yet abed?’
‘No. And I don’t expect to be – not this night, anyway. I’ll have plenty of company in my misery. Statewide alert, twenty-four-hour basis, for
every agent who could walk. Description of Morro has been telexed, or is being telexed, throughout the country. I’ve arranged for this list of the organized weirdos, but I won’t have that until tomorrow. Your Peggy has been taken care of.’
Jeff said to Ryder: Our Peggy?’
‘Forgot to tell you. The kidnappers have made a statement to AP and Reuters. No threats, just detailing what materials they’ve stolen and the names of the people they kidnapped. It will be released at eleven tonight.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Half an hour. I didn’t want your sister to have the shock of hearing of the kidnapping of her mother over the TV or radio. Major Dunne has kindly taken care of that.’
Jeff looked from one man to another then said: ‘It’s just a thought. But has it occurred to you that Peggy might be in danger?’