Back at the cottage he tried to work out a plan as he sipped his coffee. Despite the warm night it was unpleasantly cold inside the cottage and he walked outside, the mug of coffee in his hand. He could use the old ploy of checking meters or maybe pretend to be doing an inspection for the estate agency who managed the property. Both would give him a chance to look the place over. But it was wasting time and what did he expect to find? There was probably nothing there. They didn’t need anything to hypnotize the girl and the soldier. There was obviously no guard on the place, not even a dog. And suddenly he felt quite calm. He was being stupid. He didn’t know enough to decide how to tackle them. There was urgency, but even a week would make little difference. He put the empty mug on top of the water butt and listened to the night sounds. There were faint rustlings in the long grass under the apple trees and from somewhere near wood-pigeons cooed softly. And from far away he heard the long low roar of a train on the main-line to London.
It was still dark when he woke. He’d dreamed that Katie was running towards him on a sandy beach, her hair streaming, her arms outstretched and he hadn’t been able to move, and as she ran towards him she seemed to get farther and farther away. It wasn’t frightening, just strange, and he switched on the bedside lamp and looked at his watch. He had only slept for three hours and as he lay back on the pillows he knew that his thinking last night had been wrong. He couldn’t wait around, he had to go straight in. Something could happen to Walker or the girl, or the two men could disappear. His eyes closed, and it was eight o’clock before he woke.
He spent the morning in Alnwick buying food and various things he might need. He phoned the SB man at Newcastle to get him duplicate keys for the main door and the bedrooms of Percy House. He would collect them from the police station at Alnwick. He went to The White Swan at lunchtime and froze when he saw the pianist with a pretty girl at the bar. Despite realizing that the man would have no idea who he was, he left and went back to the market square and ate at the small café. He picked up the keys at the police station, signed for them, and went back to his car.
He laid out all the things he would need on the kitchen table, checking them carefully before he loaded them into the boot of the car and locked it. As he undressed he set the alarm on his watch for seven o’clock.
Just after midnight the last of the lights had gone out and Boyd started the car, drove down to the coast road and turned so that the car would be facing the right way for when he left. They didn’t look as if they would be a problem but the quicker he could leave the easier it would be. He stopped the car just past the entrance to the driveway. The nylon ropes and the torch were on the passenger seat beside him. The Walther was in his right-hand jacket pocket. When he got out he opened all the car doors very slightly after he had switched off the parking lights.
He walked up the road until he guessed he was opposite the house and then climbed over the low dry-stone wall. The moon was full, and when he saw the house it looked almost as if it were floodlit. Treading slowly and deliberately he walked down the slope towards the house, across the drive and over to the porch. The porch was in deep shadow and he shone the torch on the lock as he gently pushed in the key. It turned easily and when he moved the handle he felt a soft gust of cold air as the door opened. He left the door slightly ajar and he shone the torch around the big square hall.
The stairs creaked alarmingly despite his keeping well against the wall, but nobody stirred. The bedroom facing the top of the stairs was locked, and he tried several keys in the lock. The third one turned the tumblers and he opened the door slowly. There was a smell of stale smoke, and he guessed it was not used as a bedroom. He shaded the torch with his hand and saw that the room was unoccupied. He found the switch, turned on the light and closed the door.
There were two trestle tables in the centre of the room. The kind that decorators use. They were piled with papers and books, with a space cleared for a portable typewriter. Against the far wall was a projection screen on a metal tripod. A slide projector and a 16mm sound projector were on a metal stand at the side of a metal filing cabinet. There were three worn armchairs and on an
