Sepulchre (7 page)

Dieter Stuhr, sitting at one end of the Controller's desk, tapped the blunt end of his pencil against the large notepad in front of him. 'Personally, I don't see how that affects us anyway. What goes on between Kline and the Magma Corporation is their affair. We should treat this like any other job.'

'Of course you're right,' agreed Snaith, 'but this business bothers me. It's . . .' he shook his head, frustrated '. . . it's not logical. What kind of man is he, Liam?'

'Changeable,' came the reply. 'I'd say he's highly unstable neurotic, in fact. He's going to be a problem.'

'I see.' Snaith's expression was grim. 'Well, we've dealt with prima donnas before. And his personal bodyguards? What's your opinion of their worth?'

'I was only introduced to one. He wasn't very effective.'

Nobody in the room asked him how he'd reached that conclusion; they accepted his word.

Mather consulted a notebook. 'I have the names of the other three here. Let me see now, yes - Janusz Palusinski, his driver, then Asil Khayed and Youssef Daoud. They're described as "personal attendants", which I suppose could imply anything.'

'Good Lord,' exclaimed Snaith. 'Arabs?'

'Jordanians.'

'And the first? Czech? Polish?'

'Janusz Palusinski - Polish.'

'And the one you met, Liam?'

'Monk. He didn't say much.'

'Theodore Albert Monk,' Mather supplied from his notebook. 'According to the Magma files, he's American.'

'That's some mixed bag,' commented Snaith.

'Apparently Felix Kline picked them up on his travels. They've all been with him for years.'

'The driver might need some training,' suggested Halloran.

'That's being taken care of,' Snaith told him. 'Kline's PA, Miss, uh - Redmile, rang me earlier this afternoon to arrange it. Dieter?'

'I've got him booked in for tomorrow. We'll lease Magma one of our own specials - for Palusinski to train in and to use afterwards. Kline's own vehicle doesn't have enough protection facilities; body and windows are bullet-proof, but that's about it. I'll want to keep Palusinski for at least two days, Liam, to make sure he really knows what he's doing when he leaves us, so it looks like you're Kline's chauffeur until then.'

Halloran nodded.

Snaith spoke: 'Miss Redmile also confirms that her employer agrees to the list of conditions regarding his own actions in the forthcoming weeks. I understand you had lunch with her today?' He was looking directly at Halloran. 'Apart from their business relationship, what is she to Kline? Is she his mistress?'

Halloran took time to consider the question. Finally, he said, 'She could be.'

'She's that type?' 'What type?'

'The type who beds her boss.'

'I wouldn't know.'

'But she's a looker.'

Halloran nodded.

'Let's assume that's the case, then.'

Mother noticed the brief flare of anger in Halloran's eyes and was puzzled by it. Liam usually held his emotions totally in check. 'I don't see that it's entirely relevant, Gerald,' Mather put in. 'After all, Kline isn't married, and there's no mention of other girlfriends - or boyfriends, for that matter - in the dossier from Magma.'

'She could be a weak spot,' Snaith replied. 'He might put himself at risk if he knows she's in danger. There could be other possibilities, also. Has she been checked out?'

'I have her file right here,' said Stuhr. 'Charles brought it back from Magma earlier today, so I've only managed to glance through it. She sounds pretty solid to me. Raised in Hampshire, an only child, father a university lecturer, mother a local GP, both now deceased. Attended private school until eighteen, bright seven Os and three As - but never went on to university. Rents an apartment in Pimlico, has a substantial sum of money in her bank account - what's left of the proceeds from the sale of her parents' home, plus a little of her own savings. Magma is her first and only job apart from a bit of summertime temping when she was still a student; she worked her way up in the organisation and I think she is wonderful.' He took a black and white photograph from the file and held it up for the others to see.

Snaith didn't smile. 'Dig deeper over the next few days. Find out who she socialises with, boyfriends, lovers, her politics, religion - you know the kind of thing. She's close to the target, so we can't take chances.'

Snaith paused, ran fingers through his short ginger-grey hair.

'Now,' he said, looking round at all of them. 'Our friend Mr Kline. Just what the hell do we know about him?'

'Hardly anything,' answered Stuhr. 'It took me all of half-aminute to read through his file.'

'Hmn, that's what I was afraid of. This bloody secrecy can be taken too far.'

'Oh, I don't chink Magma is to blame,' said Mather. 'When I spoke with the chairman this morning it became very apparent that the Corporation doesn't actually know too much about Felix Kline's background. I got the impression that so long as the man continues to make them money, they're not particularly bothered.'

'Would somebody please tell me just what it is he does for Magma?' complained Stuhr.

'Sorry, Dieter.' said Snaith, 'that isn't necessary for you to know. Their terms, I'm afraid, so don't sulk. What does his file tell us?'

Stuhr made a snorting noise, but didn't argue. 'Like I said there isn't much. He was born in Israel, arrived in England eleven years ago, began working far the Magma Corporation almost immediately =

'A Jew with two Arab companions?' interrupted Snaith.

'They're not all bitter enemies. He moved into the penthouse suite of the Magma building when it was completed about five years ago. He also has a country home in Surrey, by a lake, two thousand acres of pastures and woodland. I need hardly say that's a huge amount of land to own in the Home Counties. He's obviously a very wealthy man. Unmarried, doesn't drive, doesn't smoke, drinks a little, no mention of drugs -but there wouldn't be - doesn't gamble. That's about it.'

'What?' said Snaith incredulously. 'There must be more.'

Stuhr reached for a file lying beneath Cora Redmile's. He opened it and indicated the single sheet of paper inside. 'I told you there wasn't much to read.'

'It must give his birth date, where he was educated, his employment before Magma. Isn't there anything about his social activities? It's essential that we at least have some idea of what those are.'

'He doesn't appear to have any if this document is anything to go by.'

'Charles?' Snaith appealed.

Mather waved a hand. 'That's the situation I'm afraid. Even in conversation the chairman gave nothing away. Naturally I probed, but got nowhere. As I said, they seem to know little about the man themselves, and I think that's of Kline's choosing; perhaps part of his own terms of employment was his complete privacy on all personal matters. If he'd already demonstrated how good his abilities were, I don't suppose the board objected too much.'

'All right. I'm not happy, but let's accept the situation for what of is.' Then Snaith asked hopefully, 'I suppose his salary isn't in there somewhere?'

Stuhr grinned and shook his head. 'Not even a hint.'

'We could find out from other sources, but let's not waste our tome. In fact, there's a lot more information we could uncover if we tool the trouble, but we'll take the assignment at face value. Our contract will be signed later today - we're moving fast on this one- Loam, you'll be Kline's constant companion as of eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Dieter, I want a report from you on terrorist and kidnap activities during the last year. Obviously anything relevant to Magma or its subsidiary companies is what we're after.'

Stuhr made a note. After the meeting he would spend some tome at the data processing machine, using a special access code to link up with another company which specialised in maintaining and updating the activities and whereabouts of known worldwide terrorist groups on computer.

'I'll do some checks on Magma's rivals, also,' the German said, 'see if there are any areas where competition has become over-fierce.'

'Good. We're looking for enemies, business or otherwise. But if Kline is as neurotic as Liam says, this whole affair could well be a waste of time and effort. The man might be suffering from a severe case of paranoia.' The Controller managed a grim smile. 'Still, that's his and Magma's problem Achilles' Shield gets paid either way. What do you have for us, Charles?'

Mather stopped rubbing at his knee. 'It's all fairly straightforward. For the time being we'll allocate four operatives to work with Liam, our inside man. Two to a team, working six-hour shifts around the clock. We'll also keep a back-up here on alert. Any preference as to whom you want, Liam?'

Halloran shook his head.

'Very well. As requested by Magma, our teams will keep at a distance. They'll maintain a constant patrol around the Surrey estate's boundaries - as usual, we'll inform the local police to save them from getting into a tizz.'

'Will our people be armed?' enquired Stuhr.

There was a pause. Snaith preferred his operatives to be 'lotted' against 'severe hostility', but it was illegal for private bodyguards to carry weapons in England (a law which was constantly abused, particularly by foreign visitors to the country). The Controller came to a decision. 'Liam will take with him to the estate whatever hardware he feels is necessary. I'm reluctant to sanction anything that will harm our special relationship with the police and Home Office, so our patrols will be unarmed for the time being. However, should there be any definite moves against our client, then the situation will be reconsidered. Although we'll have to rely on Liam and Kline's own bodyguards to take care of internal surveillance, we'll need a detailed report on the security system of this place . . .'

Stuhr made another note.

' . . and the Magma building itself. The latter worries me considerably. Too many people in and out all day. However, we can plant an extra couple of our men in the lobbies of the ground and twelfth floors; naturally Magma's own security people will have to know they're there. We'll have a surveillance team outside at night, front and back, when Kline's in residence.'

'The building worries me, too,' said Halloran, and all eyes turned towards him. 'It's a glass and metal fortress, but it's vulnerable.'

'Then let's hope nobody tries to get at the target before we're operational,' commented Mather. 'Now that would be amusing.'

Snaith didn't find that prospect amusing at all. Not one bit.

9 Enticement

Ah good, at last he is approaching the boy.

The boy is nervous but he speaks with bravado. He is pale; the boy, and looks unwashed; no doubt the rumpled plastic bag he carries contains all his worldly goods. He is perhaps sixteen, perhaps seventeen. The English believe that is too young to be without family, without a home; would that they knew of the orphans who freely roam the streets and marketplaces of Damascus, boys who wander alone, others who prowl in packs, stealing, begging, and joining lost causes because they will supply them with guns. Pah! The self-important British knew nothing of such things.

The boy is smiling. An unsure, nervous smile. He is lost in this huge railway station with its throngs of blank-eyed strangers. He would be even more lost in the city itself should he step outside. Now he assumes he has found a friend. If only he realised. Hah, yes, if only the boy understood.

Ajel, be quick, Youssef, do not linger on this plain of shuffling travellers and vagrants. Policemen patrol, they search for runaways such as this one.

Now he is hesitant. The boy is uncertain. Perhaps it is the dark skin he does not trust. The English nurture such intolerances, instil them in their young.

Talk smoothly, Youssef, my friend. He looks around, the movement casual, nothing mare than a glance at arrival and departure times, a constantly changing pattern high on the station wall: but Youssef really looks to see if he and the boy are being observed. You are not, my friend; I, Asil, have already looked for you. I am the only one who is interested. Besides, a man talking to a shab is familiar cares Life is too personal

to these surroundings. Nobody really

He places a reassuring hand on the runaway's shoulder and the boy does not flinch away. Perhaps money is mentioned. Ah, I see the boy nods. He has all the boldness and the stupidity of the unworldly.

My friend turns away and the boy follows. They walk side by side. Not close, not like lovers, but like associates in sin. I see it in your eyes, Youssef, the gleam that shines from your dark soul, even though outwardly you are calm. And the boy swaggers; but this is a self-conscious posturing, an arrogant affectation.

I must quickly go to the car. I must be ready in the darkness of the backseat. The boy will hardly feel the needle's sting; he will only sense my presence when it is too late.

Then, for him, sleep. A long, deep sleep.

And when he wakes - our pleasure and the master's sustenance.

10 Intruder

Hurry, Youssef, ajel. I suspect that same gleam is now m my own eyes. My body is already aching.

Monk was surprised. Nobody was due this time of night. Leastwise, nobody'd told him.

The elevator was humming though. Faint, but it was on its way up. Sounded like the one from the chairman's suite. No way could it be Felix's elevator, the one that slid all the way down to the basement. Nobody else had the code for that. Even the chick, Cora, had to wait 'til it was sent down for her.

Monk was momentarily distracted by Cora's image. The image was naked from the waist down.

Sound's stopped. It'd travelled no more'n four storeys. Yeah, from Sir Vic's den. Who the hell -?

Monk heard the doors open.

But no one stepped out.

The bodyguard laid down his magazine and rose from the chair at the end of the corridor. He released the restraining hoop on his shoulder-holster, but stayed where he was, awaiting developments.

No mood for fuckouts tonight, he told himself. It'd been a bad day already. He'd been shown for a jackass that morning, a clumsy meatloaf, and he was in no mind for surprises tonight, even if some jerk had made a mistake in coming up to the twenty-second. Just step outside, lessee the colour of your teeth.