‘Thank you.’ Ryder wasted no time on preamble. ‘You’ve all seen the streets round this block. As we came into your pad on the roof we saw a hundred streets like it. Blocked. Choked. Nothing like it since the retreat from Mons. The people are running scared. I don’t blame them. If I lived here I’d be running scared too. They believe that Morro is going to trigger off this bomb at ten tomorrow morning. So do I. I also believe that he will set off or is quite prepared to set off the other ten nuclear devices he claims to have. What I don’t for a moment believe in is his demand. It’s utter foolishness, he must know it is and we should recognize it for what it is: an empty threat, a meaningless demand that can’t be met.’
‘Perhaps you should know,’ Barrow said. ‘Just before you arrived word came through that protests have been lodged by the Kremlin and Peking, and by their embassies in Washington, crying to high heaven that they are as innocent as the driven snow of this monstrous accusation against them – no one has accused them of anything but one takes their point – and that it’s all part of a warmongering capitalist plot. First time in living memory that they’ve totally agreed with each other on anything.’
‘Not just the usual standard denial?’
‘No. They’re hopping mad.’
‘Don’t blame them. The suggestion is ludicrous.’
‘You’re sure the fact that you already seem to have discounted evidence pointing to some Communist connection has not influenced your thinking in this?’
‘I’m sure. So are you.’
Mitchell said: ‘I’m not so sure.’
‘You wouldn’t be. Last thing you do every night is look under your bed.’
Mitchell just stopped short of grinding his teeth. ‘If not that, what?’ The words were innocuous enough but their tone left no doubt that he was prepared to fight to the death for his disbelief of every word Ryder was about to say.
‘Bear with me. It all seems to start with the Philippines. I’m sure you all know how it is out there, and I’m sure the last thing I am is a specialist in foreign affairs, but I’ve been reading all about it in the library just a couple of hours ago. I’ll briefly recap what I read, as much for my own sake as anybody else’s.
‘The Philippines are in a financial mess. Hugely ambitious development plans, mounting internal and external debts, heavy military expenditures – they’re strapped. But like a good many other countries they know what to do when the kitty’s empty – put the arm on Uncle Sam. And they’re in an excellent position to apply pressure.
‘The Philippines are the keystone of America’s Pacific military strategy and the huge Seventh Fleet anchorage at Subic Bay and the strategically crucial Air Force Base are regarded by the Pentagon as being indispensable and well worth the rent – many people regard it as a cross between ransom and extortion money – that is demanded.
‘The south of the Philippines – the island of Mindanao – is inhabited by Muslims. You all know that. Unlike Christianity, the Muslim religion has no moral laws against the killing of mankind in general – just against the killing of Muslims, period. The concept of a holy war is an integral part of their lives and this is what they’re doing right now – carrying out a holy crusade against President Marcos and his predominantly Catholic government. They regard it as a religious war being waged by an oppressed people. Whether it’s a justifiable war or not is – well, it’s none of my business. In any event, it is an intensely bitter war. I think all this is well known.
‘What is, perhaps, not quite so well known is that they feel almost equally bitter towards the United States. It’s not hard to understand. Although Congress raises its hand in holier-than-thou horror at Marcos’s long-term track record on civil liberties, they still cheerfully, as I said, ante up the rent for our bases to the tune of several hundred million dollars a year in military aid, no small amount of which is put to what the Philippine government regards as being perfectly good use in crushing the Muslims.
‘Even less known is the fact that the Muslims aren’t all that much fonder of Russia, China and Vietnam. Not, as far as is known, that those countries have caused them any harm: it’s just that the Philippine government has established cordial – and diplomatic – relations with those three countries and countries that reciprocate the Philippine government’s overtures are automatically classified by the Mindanaon Muslims as belonging to the enemy camp.
‘What the Muslims desperately lack is arms. Provided that they were armed to the same standards as the government’s well-equipped eighty field battalions – well-equipped, mainly, by the courtesy of Uncle Sam – they could give a good account of themselves. Until last year what little supplies they received came from Libya – until Imelda Marcos went there and sweet-talked Colonel Gadhafi and his foreign minister Ali Tureiki into cutting off the Mindanaon Muslims’ last lifeline.
‘So what were they to do? They couldn’t obtain or manufacture their own arms in the Philippines. Even if they didn’t hate America there was no way the Americans would supply arms to insurgents against the Philippine government. They weren’t even speaking to the Communists, and their own fellow Muslims had turned against them. So the Muslim rebels came up with the only answer. Any big armament firm in the world will supply arms to anyone – if the money is right and on the barrel-head – irrespective of race, creed and politics. Why shouldn’t they? Governments do it all the time – America, Britain and France are the worst offenders. So, all they had to do was to find the cash to put on the barrel-head.
‘The solution was simple. Let the enemy provide. In this case the unfortunate provider was to be Uncle Sam. All the better if you can wound him in the process. Rob him blind, hurt him and – to kill two birds with one stone – discredit the USSR and China by using them as a smokescreen. That’s what I believe is happening in California here and now. And the frightening thing about it is that we have to remember that the Koran gives a Muslim a conscience-free hand to knock off anyone who isn’t a Muslim. And if your conscience is free, what’s the difference between one and one million? If all’s free in love and war what’s it like in a holy war?’
‘It’s an interesting hypothesis,’ Mitchell said. His tone implied that he was a courteous man tolerantly listening to another theorizing about how the moon is made of green cheese. ‘You have evidence to back this up, of course?’
‘Nothing that you would regard as positive evidence. Elimination, circumstantial evidence, all perhaps better than nothing. In the first place it’s the only theory that explains the situation in which we find ourselves now.’
‘But you said they’re after cash. If that’s so, why didn’t they blackmail the government for cash?’
‘I don’t know. I have the glimmerings of an idea but I know what you would do with a glimmering. Second, speech experts place his area of origin as south-east Asia – which includes the Philippines. Third, it is certain – there is no question about this – that he is in criminal association with Carlton, the supposedly kidnapped San Ruffino deputy of security, and there is also no question that Carlton has been in Manila several times. Fourth, if Morro has a weakness it seems to be that it tickles his ironic fancy to give himself an alias associated with the operation he is conducting. The first stage of his operation here was concerned with nuclear fuel so he may well have purposely chosen to call himself after the nuclear station at Morro Bay. Fifth, that’s not the only name pronounced that way – there’s another in the Philippines, called Moro Bay. Sixth, this is in Mindanao and is the focus of the Muslim insurgent movement. Seventh, last year Moro Bay was the scene of the greatest natural disaster in Philippine history. An earthquake at the mouth of the bay – it’s crescent-shaped – caused a gigantic tidal wave that took over five thousand lives and left seventy thousand homeless, all along the shores of the bay. A tidal wave we’re promised for tomorrow. I’ll take long odds that we’ll be promised an earthquake on Saturday. I think that this may be Morro’s Achilles’ heel. I think it would mightily tickle his fan
cy to have his name associated with nuclear weapons, tidal waves and earthquakes.’
‘You call this evidence?’ Mitchell’s tone was nasty, but it could have been nastier.
‘No proof, I agree. Indicators, that’s all. But they’re all-important. In police work you can’t look anywhere until you have some indication of where to look. You start hunting where the hound-dog points. Put it another way. I’m looking for a lodestone and I set down a compass. The needle swings and steadies. That might indicate the direction of the lodestone. I put down a second compass and it points in the same direction. That could be coincidence although a remarkable one. I put down five more and they all point the same way. I stop thinking about coincidences. I have seven needles here and they all point towards Mindanao.’ Ryder paused. ‘I’m convinced. I understand, of course, that you gentlemen would require some sort of proof.’
Barrow said: ‘I think I’m convinced if only for the reason that I can’t see any needle pointing any other damned way. But some proof would be nice. What would you call proof, Mr Ryder?’
‘For me, any one answer to any one of, oddly, seven questions.’ He took a sheet of paper from his pocket. ‘What is Morro’s place of origin? Where can we locate a six-foot-eight giant who must be a senior lieutenant of Morro’s? What kind of bomb did this Professor Aachen design? I think Morro lied about its dimensions for the simple reason that he didn’t have to mention it at all.’ He looked reproachfully at Barrow and Mitchell. ‘I understand the AEC have put up the shutters on this one. If you two gentlemen can’t make them open up who can? Then I want to know if there are any private organizations up in the mountains using their own helicopters. Any using their own private vans. Major Dunne is working on those two. After that I’d like to know if Morro is going to threaten us with an earthquake on Saturday. I’ve said I’m sure he is. Lastly, I’d like to know if the Post Office can discover whether there’s a radio-phone link between Bakersfield and a place called the Adlerheim.’
‘Adlerheim?’ Mitchell had lost some of his intransigence. It was reasonable to assume that he hadn’t become director because his aunt’s cousin knew some stenographer in a CIA typing pool. ‘What’s that?’
‘I know it,’ Barrow said. ‘Up in the Sierra Nevada. Von Streicher’s Folly, they call it, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I think that’s where we’ll find Morro. Anyone mind if I smoke?’
Not only did nobody object; nobody even seemed to have heard his request. They were busy. They were busy studying the insides of their closed eyelids, or the papers before them or infinity. Ryder was almost an inch down on his Gauloise before Barrow spoke.
‘That’s quite a thought, Mr Ryder. Having heard what you’ve had to say so far I don’t think anyone is going to dismiss it out of hand.’ He made a point of not looking at Mitchell. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, Sassoon?’
Sassoon spoke for the first time. ‘I’ve heard enough not to make a clown of myself. You will, of course, have your pointers, Mr Ryder.’ He smiled as he said it.
‘None that you don’t all have. In that rather cryptic note my wife left when she was kidnapped she said that Morro referred to their destination as having bracing air and a place where they wouldn’t get their feet wet. Mountains. It’s been taken over by a group of Muslims, quite openly: this would be typical of Morro’s effrontery – and his over-confidence. It’s called the “Temple of Allah” or some such name. It’s got official police protection to ensure its privacy – a fact which would again appeal to Morro’s ironic – if warped – sense of humour. It’s virtually impregnable to outside assault. It’s close to Bakersfield, where LeWinter had a telephone contact. I should think the chances are high that they have a helicopter – we’ll soon know. A guess you might say, and too damned obvious. The clever investigator overlooks the obvious. Me, I’m stupid – I’d go for the obvious which is the last thing that Morro would expect us to do.’
Barrow said: ‘You don’t actually know this Morro?’
‘Unfortunately, no.’
‘You seem to have got inside his mind pretty well. I only hope you haven’t taken any wrong turnings.’
Parker said in a mild tone: ‘He’s quite good at getting inside minds, actually. No pun intended, but ask anyone inside. Ryder’s put away more felons than any intelligence officer in this State.’
‘Let’s hope his luck doesn’t run out. That’s all, Mr Ryder?’
‘Yes. Two thoughts. When this is all over you might make out a citation to my wife. If she hadn’t thought she’d seen a black eye-patch and suspected there was something wrong with his hands we’d still be back in square one. We still don’t know for certain if she was right. The second thought is just amusing and irrelevant except that it probably again has a bearing on Morro’s twisted sense of humour. Anyone know why Von Streicher built the Adlerheim where he did?’
Nobody knew.
‘I’ll bet Morro did. Von Streicher had a phobia about tidal waves.’
Nobody said anything because, for the moment, they had nothing to say. After some time, Barrow stirred and pressed a bell twice. The door opened, two girls entered and Barrow said: ‘We’re thirsty.’ The girls moved to one wall and slid back a wooden panel.
A few minutes later Barrow laid down his glass. ‘I wasn’t really thirsty. I just wanted time to think. Neither the time nor the Scotch has helped any.’
‘We go for the Adlerheim?’ Mitchell’s aggression was in abeyance: this was just a doubtful suggestion put up for discussion.
‘No.’ Ryder gave a negative shake of the head in a very positive way. ‘I think I’m right; I could be wrong. Either way I wouldn’t give a damn about proof and legality, and I don’t think anyone else here would either. It’s the physical factor. You can’t storm the place. I told you it’s impregnable. If Morro’s there he’ll have it guarded like Fort Knox. If we did attack the place and there was armed resistance then we’d know for sure he’s there. What then? You can’t use tanks and artillery up a mountain-side. Planes with rockets, missiles, bombs? What a lovely idea with thirty-five megatons of hydrogen bombs in there.’
‘It would be a bang,’ Mitchell said. He seemed almost human. ‘And what a bang. How many dead? Tens of thousands? Hundreds? Millions? With the radio-active fall-out all over the western States? Yes, millions.’
Ryder said: ‘Not to mention blasting a hole through the ozone layer.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘It’s out of the question, anyway,’ Barrow said. ‘Only the Commander-in-Chief could authorize such an attack, and whether he’s motivated by political cynicism or humanity no President is going to let himself go down in history as the man directly responsible for the deaths of millions of his fellow citizens.’
‘That apart,’ Ryder said, ‘I’m afraid we’re all missing the point, which is that those bombs will be triggered by radiowave and Morro will be sitting up there all the time with his thumb on the button. If he had the bombs sited – which he could well have by now – he has only to press that button. They could be in transit – and he has still only to press that button. Even if he’s sitting on top of the damn things he’d still do the same. It would be a splendid way to pay the Americans back for the billion or more dollars and military aid they’ve given Marcos’s government to use to crush the Muslims. American lives are nothing to them and, in a holy war, neither are theirs. They can’t lose: the gates of Paradise are standing wide.’
There was a long pause then Sassoon said: ‘It’s a bit chilly in here. Anyone join me in a Scotch or bourbon or something?’
Everyone, it seemed, was conscious of a drop in the temperature. There was another and equally long pause, then Mitchell said, almost plaintively: ‘How do we get at those damned bombs?’
‘You can’t.’ Ryder said. ‘I’ve had more time than you to think this out. Those bombs will be under constant surveillance all the time. Go anywhere near any of them and it’ll blow up in your face. I wouldn’t fancy
having a three-and-a-half megaton bomb blow up in my face.’ He lit another cigarette. ‘Well, I don’t know. No worry, really. In my vaporized state I wouldn’t be likely to know much about it. Forget the bombs. We want to get to that button before Morro presses it.’
Barrow said: ‘Infiltration?’
‘How else?’
‘How?’
‘Using his over-confidence and colossal arrogance against him.’
‘How?’
‘How?’ Ryder showed his first irritation. ‘You forget that I’m just an unofficial interferer.’
‘As far as I’m concerned – and, in those United States of ours, I’m the only one who is concerned – you’re now a fully accredited, paid-up and charter member of the FBI.’
‘Well, thanks very much.’
‘How?’
‘I wish to God I knew.’
The silence was profound. By and by Barrow turned to Mitchell. ‘Well, what are we going to do?’