end. It was Lopez’s claim — no boast, for his claim had been substantiated a hundred times over — that he could have the toughest and most fanatical of terrorists screaming in unspeakable agony within five minutes and, within twenty minutes, have the name of every member of his cell.
It had taken him forty minutes to break Aachen and he had to repeat the process several times in the following three weeks. For the past month Aachen had given no trouble. It was a tribute and testimony to Lopez’s evil skill that, although Aachen was a physically shattered man with the last vestiges of pride, will and independence gone for ever, his mind and memory remained unimpaired.
Aachen gripped the bars of his cell and gazed through them, with lack-lustre eyes veined with blood, at the immaculate laboratory-cum-workshop that had been his home and his hell for the previous seven weeks. He stared unblinkingly, interminably, as if in a hypnotic trance, at the rack against the opposite wall. It held twelve cylinders. Each had a lifting ring welded to the top. Eleven of those were about twelve feet high, and in diameter no more than the barrel of a 4.5-inch naval gun, to which they bore a strong resemblance. The twelfth was of the same diameter but less than half the height.
The workshop, hewn out of solid rock, lay forty feet beneath the banqueting hall of the Adlerheim.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ryder, Dr Jablonsky, Sergeant Parker and Jeff waited with varying degrees of patience as Marjory transcribed Susan’s shorthand, a task that took her less than two minutes. She handed her notepad to Ryder.
‘Thank you. This is what she says. “The leader is called Morro. Odd”.’
Jablonsky said: ‘What’s odd about that? Lot of unusual names around.’
‘Not the name. The fact that he should permit one — or more — of his men to identify him by his name.’
‘Bogus,’ Jeff said.
‘Sure. “Six foot, lean, broad-shouldered, educated voice. American? Wears black gloves. Only one with gloves. Think I see black patch over his right eye. Stocking mask makes it difficult to be certain. Other men nondescript. Says no harm will come to us. Just regard the next few days as a holiday. Bracing vacation resort. Not the sea. Can’t have anyone getting their feet wet. Meaningless chatter? Don’t know. Turn the oven off”. That’s all.’
‘It’s not much.’ Jeff’s disappointment showed.
‘What did you expect? Addresses and telephone numbers? Susan wouldn’t have missed anything, so that was all she had to go on. Two things. This Morro may have something wrong with both hands — disfigurement, scarring, amputation of fingers — and with one eye: could be a result of an accident, car crash, explosion, even a shoot-out. Then, like all criminals, he may occasionally be so sure of himself that he talks too much. “Not the sea, but bracing”. Could have been telling lies to mislead, but why mention it at all? Bracing. Hills. Mountains.’
‘Lots of hills and mountains in California.’ Parker sounded less than encouraging. ‘Maybe two-thirds. Just leaves an area about the size of Britain to search. And for what?’
There was a brief silence then Ryder said: ‘Maybe it’s not what. Maybe it’s not where. Maybe we should be asking ourselves why.’
The front-door bell rang for an unnecessary length of time. Jeff left and returned with the Chief of Police, who appeared to be in his customary foul mood, and an unhappy young detective called Kramer. Donahure looked around him with the thunderously proprietorial air of a house-owner whose premises have been invaded by a hippy commune. His glare settled on Jablonsky.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Funny you should ask that.’ Jablonsky spoke in a cold voice and removed his glasses so that Donahure could see that his eyes were cold too. ‘I was about to ask you the same.’
Donahure let him have some more of the glare then switched it to Parker. ‘And what the hell are you doing here?’
Parker took a slow sip of his gin, an action that had a predictable effect on Donahure’s complexion. ‘An old friend visiting an old friend. Maybe for the thousandth time. Talking over old times.’ Parker took another leisurely sip. ‘Not that it’s any of your goddamned business.’
‘Report to me first thing in the morning.’ Donahure’s larynx was giving him trouble again. ‘I know what you’re talking about — the break-in. Ryder is not only not on the case, he’s not a cop any more. You don’t discuss police business with the public. Now, get out. I want to talk to Ryder privately.’
Ryder was on his feet with surprising ease for a man of his bulk. ‘You’ll be getting me a reputation for down- right lack of hospitality. I can’t have that.’
‘Out!’ A difficult word to snarl but Donahure made a creditable attempt. Parker ignored him. Donahure swung round, crossed the room, lifted a telephone and yelped in agony as Ryder’s left hand closed over his arm. The ulnar nerve in the elbow is the most exposed and sensitive of all peripheral nerves and Ryder had powerful fingers. Donahure dropped the telephone on the table to free his right hand for the purpose of massaging his left elbow: Ryder replaced the phone on its rest.
‘What the hell was that for?’ Donahure rubbed his elbow industriously. ‘Right. Kramer. Book Ryder for assault and obstruction of justice.’
‘What?’ Ryder looked around. ‘Anyone here see me assault Fatso?’ Nobody, apparently, had seen anything. ‘Californian’s home is his castle. Nobody touches anything without my say-so.’
‘Is that so?’ Triumph overcame the throbbing nerve. He dug into a pocket and produced a piece of paper which he flourished at Ryder. ‘I’ll touch anything I like in this house. Know what that is?’
‘Sure. A search warrant with LeWinter’s name on it.’
‘It’s a warrant, Mister.’
Ryder took the warrant. ‘Law says I’ve the right to read it. Or didn’t you know?’ Ryder glanced at it for all of a second. ‘Judge LeWinter it is. Your poker-playing pal at City Hall. Next only to yourself the most corrupt official in town, the only judge in town who would issue you with a warrant on a trumped-up charge.’ He looked at the four seated people. ‘Now please watch the reactions of this upholder of public morality, especially his complexion. Jeff, would you have any idea what this trumped-up charge might be?’
‘Well, now.’ Jeff thought. ‘A trumped-up charge of theft, I’d think. A stolen driving licence? A missing police radio? Or something really ridiculous, like harbouring a set of binoculars with an LAPD stamp.’
Observe the complexion,’ Ryder said. ‘An interesting clinical study. Violet with overtones of purple. I’ll bet a good psychologist could make something of that. A guilt complex, perhaps?’
‘I’ve got it,’ Jeff said happily. ‘He’s come to search the place for evidence stolen from the scene of the crime.’
Ryder studied the warrant. ‘I don’t know how you do it.’
Donahure snatched the warrant back. ‘Too damn right. And when I do find it —’
‘Find what? That’s why it’s a put-up job — you’ve no idea what you’re looking for. You haven’t even been out to San Ruffino.’
‘I know. But my wife does.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s got some pretty nice jewellery in there.’
Donahure balled his fists, looked at Ryder’s eyes, changed his mind and stalked — if a hippopotamus could ever be said to stalk — into the bedroom, Ryder at his heels.
He started with a dressing-table drawer, rifled through a pile of blouses, left them in an untidy heap, slammed the drawer shut, moved to the next drawer and repeated his cry of pain as Ryder found the ulnar nerve again. In the living-room Parker rolled up his eyes, rose, picked up his own glass and that of Jablonsky and headed purposefully for the bar.
Ryder said: ‘I don’t like untidy people. Especially, I don’t want filthy fingers touching my wife’s clothing.
