The Mind Readers (24 page)

‘The Spark don't like me wearin' my old cap,' said Mr Knapp, blotting his dreadful nose. ‘But I get my sinus on this marsh and if I don't keep my loaf warm I pay for it. I've got a tweed “Macmillan” for when he's here but he's gorn with the others on this Paris lark tonight. That's what brings you, I shouldn't wonder?'

‘I shouldn't wonder, either!' Mr Campion agreed affably. ‘Look Thos, first I must speak to London.'

‘Must you? Paris is where it's happening. We've all gorn to Paris. That chap Fred Arnold from the canteen—we don't use it because they won't have us—drove the team in relays to the station. The orders were, our vehicles were not to be seen leaving the island. The boys are at Southend Airport by now. We were very nearly full strength at tea-time when the message came froo. Suddenly it was “all aboard!” just like old times. Lumme! Do you remember . . . ?'

‘Not just now, old boy. First of all I must make a call to Town. . . .'

Thos did not hear; he still seemed absurdly touched by the reunion. ‘You're a sight for sore eyes,' he kept saying and he was certainly in a position to judge. ‘You've 'ardly altered, ole man . . . a bit of string to look at but a live wire inside. Lord Ludor himself is laying on our little Paris caper. The Spark spoke to him personally. Have you ever seen him? They still grow 'em! More sizey now, like everything else. Gawd! I can't get over you turnin up! Wanderin' in just like you always did. To tell you the troof I was feeling out of it. There's only me an' Feeoh—that was 'im in there with the billiards. But we're left to take the stuff in when the others get ‘old of it, so it's not reely I'm not
wanted,
is it?'

‘Thos, if I had a telephone . . .'

‘No, lissern! I'll do what I can for you later. I want to tell you first that it's a real treat to see your old face! The Spark has took me orf the roof work, see? And I did used to
like
the roof work. The Paris job is dodgy and we're usin' all the noo gear, the light and radar frequencies beam on the windows. The thin glass vibrates to the speech sounds in the room and also acts as a reflector. It's very tasty, very sweet indeed.'

‘So you're “bugging” the Rubari apartment, are you?'

While Mr Campion's forward mind had been concentrating on getting in touch with his base, another part of his brain appeared to have been listening. A piece of the pattern slid into place.

‘What about Daumier's?'

‘If we have to.' Mr Knapp seemed hurt. ‘I'm trying to tell you, aren't I? I can let you know all you want without you bothering London.'

‘I wish you could, Thos! All I need is an old-fashioned telephone line, with elementary privacy, to an ordinary public exchange.'

The flat cap shook slowly and regretfully from side to side.

‘And you'd like an 'andsome cab and a penny cigar too, I suppose? Them days is done, Bert boy. With luck you may get privacy at the next stage of development. Or, on the other hand, you may not. As I see it, the word “private” is going plumb out of date. It's goin' to be an ole-fashioned concep', mark my words. That's a prophecy.' He sat back in his swivel-chair and smiled the “drunken-mouse” smile Mr Campion remembered so vividly. ‘We're going to do it “look-no-hands” now,' he said happily. ‘That's what this Paris lark is about, as you may or may not know. No wires, no toobs, no frequencies, no beams. Nothing. Just ‘ead to ruddy ‘ead! You knoo, did you?'

Mr Campion nodded. The extraordinary chance which had produced this old ally did not astonish him. In his experience some things were inevitable, and once one became caught up in such a development any coincidence was likely rather than merely possible. But what to Canon Avril would have been one sort of experience was to him another. As he saw it, it was just “like Life” for him to discover the one man who was able to unravel most of the mystery, dying to talk his head off at the very moment when he himself was forced to spend his energy circumnavigating a high-handed move by a bludgeoning business tycoon.

He and Luke had been sent to the island to discover the true origin of the amplifiers and, incidentally, what was wrong with Godley's security. By a simple, impudent move, using his pull with the Army, Ludor had placed him in the position of having to transmit his reports and receive his instructions through his own monitoring system. It was a manoeuvre typical of Ludor; ruthless, but full of elementary commonsense.

‘We're after kids. Did you know? Children,' said Mr Knapp breaking into his friend's thought. ‘The Spark didn't believe it at first, but I wasn't surprised. Do you remember what we was like with the old cat'swhisker when Marconi first got goin'? Probably not, I do. Proper little wizards me and my lot was; in fac', we was the only part of the general public who understood it at all. Anybody over thirty was too thick to take it in.'

‘Does Lord Ludor think some sort of test is to be conducted from the Rubari apartment?'

‘Nobody knows. We're trying the kids first to find out. If it's not to be there, we go where it is. That's another reason for me stayin' here. The Spark and most of his lads is bi-lingual.' He used the word with amused pride as if it meant ‘two-headed'.

‘Why is Lord Ludor so sure there's to be a test?'

‘He knows his man, Mayo . . . a very careful bloke, very high in the perfession.'

‘He's dead,' said Mr Campion on impulse.

‘Ah.' Thos was unmoved. ‘I'm not surprised. They're nappy, them Frogs.'

‘It may be nothing to do with them.'

‘We'll find out.'

‘Then what?'

‘Then we'll find out who's testing, and relay it here. You ought to see my little theatre. I can show you miracles.'

‘But you can't get me a line to Welbeck!'

‘Oh Gawd!' said Mr Knapp with sudden exasperation. ‘What a persistent beggar you always was! Come on. I'll show yer but not a word to anybody and particularly not to the Spark. This is our racing-wire which me and the staff rigged up to keep ourselves amused. It's a lovely drop of old-style engineering in its way. Seventy feet of one-and-a-half zinc piping over the narrowest part of the channel and close on a mile of ex-army field cable, all concealed and connected to the nearest house on the mainland. The old widder there is a keen type and we make it worth her while. She don't earwig much—isn't interested. We have to keep it dead quiet though.'

He rose from his chair and took an old-fashioned iron key from a hook under a calendar which suggested a homely structure somewhere in the background. To the visitor's amusement the flippant notion turned out to be entirely correct. Behind the Nissen huts there was a line of more rustic little buildings with sloping tin roofs. The torch-beam showed them tarred and blistered, and the one at the far end was not only locked but had the name ‘
Mr Thos. T. Knapp. Chairman
.
Keep Out
' painted on it neatly by some youthful joker, no doubt in near-hysterics.

The telephone was kept on the seat under a pile of newspapers and Thos brought it out and hung about as Campion settled on the step and got on to the mainland exchange. However, as soon as Dearest came through and he addressed her by that name, his host stepped back, polite and surprised. ‘You was always younger than me,' he said regretfully and faded into the darkness, making the thin man's task considerably easier.

Dearest was almost gay. If she retained her archness, less of the headmistress was showing through. Mr Campion was grateful to her. She was remarkably easy to follow and he did not permit her faint flicker of amusement whenever she referred to their boss as ‘Elsie' to irritate him unduly.

‘Elsie and I have had quite an evening,' she chattered brightly. ‘It's lovely of you to ring up all the way from the seaside, but if you're on a party-line I shall have to keep it clean, shan't I?'

‘Well I'm not, as it happens. The man on whose estate I'm staying listens in, so I came outside. In fact you'd never guess where I am now.'

‘Ah. Some insular types are so possessive. Is he the big boy you meant to stay with?'

‘The young people here call him
Tarzan's Daddy-o
,' he said acidly and heard her giggle. ‘How's everyone at home? Not you two girls, but the bunch up there by the Church. Has Auntie got her little pet back yet?'

‘No, she hasn't. Everybody's looking for it. Elsie and I did wonder if it could have come in and she wasn't letting on, but no. All the people from the big electrical shop are helping. They won't leave her alone.'

‘I suppose not,' he said bleakly. ‘Has she been out looking for it herself?'

‘No. She hasn't stirred and she hasn't let anyone in except the old girl from next door, Miss Whatsit.
She's
been in and out of the house ministering as usual, of course.'

‘Of course,' he echoed and hurried on lest she should detect the faint sense of relief which her news was bringing him. If Amanda was staying put and lying low the chances were that Amanda knew what she was doing. The Fittons were always a resourceful family.

‘I had to part with Charley on the way down,' he continued smoothly. ‘I expect you heard, he got a call from his firm to go up to the Midlands. If you see him before I do, give him a message for me, will you?'

‘Of course. Or I could always tell Syd if it's important.'

‘May as well. It's only about that sack of waste they found in the back of the truck. Tell him I think there's been a shuffle and it started out in the back of a car from central London after midnight last night. Car, not truck, see? And was probably in the same state in which it arrived in Saltbridge.'

‘How you run on!' she said, which was a warning that he was being unnecessarily obvious. ‘Don't worry. I'll tell him. Anything else while I'm about it? The last time I heard from them, they were getting on very well. They found a mate up there who knew all the answers.'

‘Oh, the Army instructor?'

‘No.' She seemed at sea. ‘That doesn't ring a bell.'

‘I thought he was some sort of gym-sergeant expert? Unarmed Combat?'

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. He had no reason to think that anyone could hear him, or that it would matter if they did, but as the phrase left his lips he had a hunch that it was going to be unlucky, for the phone was crackling badly and he was relieved that she let the indiscretion pass.

‘Oh, I see,' she said. ‘Yes, you're right. That is it. I heard just now, but we're over the moon at the moment. You know that little packet of children's toys we lost? Well, we've found them! All through you, really. Elsie said I was to send her love if you called. She's ever so grateful.'

The net of nervous pain which caught Mr Campion round the face as the information registered surprised him. He had not realised how much he was emotionally involved in the safety of the invention, quite apart from the fact that the children were concerned with it. To cover himself he began to chatter.

‘Tell her to think nothing of it. I aim to please. Which of my brilliant suggestions led to the discovery? The misquotation from the big book?'

‘That's right. Elsie liked the idea of the promenading person in the fancy dress. We found out there were two of them, just like you said.'

‘I knew there were two toys?'

‘Yes, but two prophets, too. You know, two men in fancy dress. You told Elsie you thought there might be two and she put the whole shop on the look-out. One of them was caught handing over the toys in an envelope with one of his usual handouts.'

Mr Campion held his breath. He thought he heard a movement from the Nissen hut. At any moment Thos must return, athirst for sentimental reminiscence. He strove to concentrate on the extraordinarily difficult parlour-game he was playing with this highly skilful partner.

He had half forgotten that he had mentioned his encounter with the End of the World Man to Corkran, when he had reached him that morning almost immediately after his meeting with Deeds, whom he knew slightly and who had tackled him in the street. The idea of the false Biblical reference appearing on the placard, apparently by magic, had interested both him and Corkran for each had recognised the true quotation from their school days when it had seemed amusing to impersonate the Four Beasts from the four corners of the chapel, each scrubby little boy intoning his cry under cover of the psalms:
‘Come and see
!
Come and see
!
Come and see
!
Come and see
!
'
Evidently Corkran had acted with his usual promptness and had scored sensationally.

‘Dearest,' said Mr Campion. ‘I love your voice, I could listen to you all day but I ought to get on. Tell me about this character you caught with the toys. Which was he? Not my old barmy friend, surely?'

‘No, Mephy dear, the other one.'

‘I thought so. Was he known to Elsie? I mean, could he have been something to do with that little firm you were telling me about last night? The one with the funny name?'

‘Fungi? Yes, that's right. It was ever such a surprise. We knew him quite well. He had always seemed such a dear old lady. He had his little teashop and his white cat and he was the secretary of the Prophetic Society. . . .'

‘The secretary?'

‘Yes. Their office is opposite him and they used to have a bigger staff before the cost of living went up, so he had some spare costumes and boards available. He only had to write his own posters and there he was. I tell you we're delighted; we'd never connected him with Messrs Fungi & Co.'

‘Had you tried?'

‘Hundreds of times! But there appeared to be no contact at all with anybody. He must have been doing it this way for ages. It's the old clients he really works for, you know. Our regulars.'