The Mind Readers (32 page)

‘Oh, do not play the fool, Henri! I see Longfox must let you in because of the money but you are not the right temperament. This is the crown-of-the-venture. Come. For two minutes we will wait. Relaxed, not strained. Don't forget. Relaxed. Idle. It is five-seventeen coming up.
Now
. . . .'

‘He doesn't only let me in because of the money! That's a foul thing to say! If you knew Longfox . . .'

‘Oh pliz! Shut up. Keep your mind open. Wait.'

Lord Ludor leant back in his seat and grunted. ‘What was that?' he demanded of the Spark, who had muttered something.

‘I said it's quite clear they think they're alone.'

‘You told me you
knew
they were.'

‘I do. No one's listening to them except us, but they've not detected us with their gadgets.'

‘Neither of them know us. They have to recognise one signal among the rest. Isn't that so?' He looked across at Sam enquiringly. It was a sly, oddly lowered glance under the heavy brows. The child met his eyes blankly and looked away. Ludor smiled ruefully and returned to the man. ‘They're not playing,' he said. ‘They've been taught. There's an adult in it somewhere.'

‘Yes, sir. I don't think he's over there, though.'

‘Perhaps not. But Gregoire Gregoire, the second boy's father, is a remarkable chap. I wish we had him. What do we do now? Wait and see what one of these little brutes thinks he's received? Where is that 'phone bell ringing?'

‘That's on their mike, sir. The 'phone is in Paris, in the room with them.'

The secretary said something and Ludor turned to her.

‘It's not a waste of
my
time. Go away if you like. Now they're going to be interrupted. Yes, here she is. . . .'

‘Ay say, Henri!' The poor girl had a most unfortunately affected accent which the microphone exaggerated. ‘Let me in at once. Ay have to answer the telephone.'

‘It's all right. . . .'

‘It's not all right! How dare you lock this door. Let me in. . . . !'

‘Oh pliz!' Gregoire's small voice agonised. ‘Listen. Do let me hear. It is Longfox. . . .'

‘Edward? It can't be!'

‘Let me in at once, Henri. Gregoire. . . .'

‘Oh, give it here, I can't hear. Edward? Is that you?'

‘Let me in immediately!'

‘Oh, for God's sake!' The roar was from Ludor, who was bouncing on his seat. His size and primitive quality had never been more apparent. As if in direct response to his outburst a second loudspeaker sprang to life and the tapped telephone, which after all was Advanced Wires' speciality and the foundation of the firm, gave up its secrets without a hitch.

‘Did you get it, Edward?' Rubari's voice seemed less mature in its excitement. ‘I say, Edward. It
is
you, isn't it? Where are you?'

‘Listen Rubari. This is most important. Have you access to a television set?' The new voice, severe but trembling with excitement, sent a stab of pure relief through Mr Campion's chest.

‘Edward! How did you get on to us? Where are you? Listen, we've just sent our test message. Did you get it?'

‘Henri Rubari, be quiet and listen! You are to get to a television set by six or whenever evening transmission starts over there. It's come off a day early. A day early. Understand? You'll see all about it, I think. They may be relaying it. Don't miss it; you'll have to hurry if you haven't got a set there.'

‘Where are you?'

‘In London, of course. Do pay attention, there's a good chap. I believe this call is costing the earth.' There was an interruption and a man's laugh floated briefly over the wires, shaking the listeners like the appearance of a ghost, shattering although more than half expected.

‘Oh good!' It was Edward again. ‘It's all right, we can say some more. It doesn't matter about the money. Listen—oh who is that woman shouting? Can't you stop her? Oh, I see. Well, it doesn't matter her knowing now because it's nearly done. I'll tell you everything when I see you but you must lookin tonight. What?'

‘Did you get our transmission?' Rubari was being patient in a grown-up way. ‘Be reasonable, my dear fellow. This is the real object of the whole exercise. It is why Gregoire and myself are here at all. Did you . . . ?'

Lord Ludor was nodding approval, Mr Campion noticed with amusement. He seemed to have recognised a confrere in Rubari.

‘In a moment.' Edward was still obsessed with his own news. ‘This really is much more important. You'll never forgive yourself if you don't find a set. Go to a café, or something, if you're too snobbish to have one. Oh, very well, Rubari, if you miss it you miss it.'

‘Miss what?'

‘
It
. All of it. It's been recorded. Where? Oh here, of course; it's taken all day. But don't worry. About your test transmission: it was jolly bad. I don't think it was the going over the water. I never did think that would affect it much. What?'

‘What was it, then? What was wrong?'

‘Just not sustained. One strong clear iggy only, and then four subsidiaries very faint. It came through when I was jolly busy, so some of it may have been me. What?'

‘What was the flash, you clot?'

‘All right. They say I can go on. It's very expensive so pay attention and do it properly. Right? Have you got your script? Well, get it. Now then . . .'

‘O.K.?'

‘O.K. I.G. Testing. Report begins: Time: Four twenty-three. How's that? Early? Yes. I see. Well, it so often is. Time is out, I think, don't you? It's not our fault. There's something fundamentally wrong with the system. Oh yes. Hopelessly inaccurate. Right. Well then:
Iggy Flash: Rubari to Longfox
. Gregoire not recognised. Strong interference. A lot of circus stuff; it could have been someone for me but your message was very sharp. Are you ready for the next bit?'

‘Ready. O.K.?'

‘O.K.'

‘Part one.
Thought
: Quality good. Duration: too short. Double image. Full colour. Recognisable.
Dispatch
: What? Oh, that's just that I knew it was you, you ass. Listen.
Gen. Begins
; One:
The beautiful brown horse with the soft pale pink nose will miss me and forget me
. Two:
The Woman has hurt my hand.
Got that? Rubari!'

‘Yes. All right.'

‘Well then, buck up. Now. Second Part:
Feel:
One: Intense Sadness. Deep to Poignant. Two: Exasperation and Hate. Mark 5. That's jolly high for hate. Message ends. How was that?'

‘Good God!' said Lord Ludor, lumbering to his feet and walking down the room ignoring loose cables, small antiques and anything else in his way. ‘Good God!' he said again and added abruptly, ‘they've got it. The transmission's no good but the reception is there. What's the matter with you?'

The final question was directed to the secretary, who was sitting up looking at him in a sort of horror.

‘But it was his
secret
,' she said. ‘Being afraid the horse would forget him. That was the thing he
wasn't
telling . . .'

‘Yes, but that was the message which got over however he sent it. That . . . oh, I see what you mean.' He was silent for a moment and then when he spoke could have been addressing the entire island.

‘
I want that boy
,' he said and might well have added ‘Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum' Mr Campion reflected, stung to laughter. ‘And I want him here.'

He was answered by a man's voice relayed from the telephone far away in the Paris flat.

‘Henri Rubari.' The speaker carried great authority and was vaguely familiar to several people present. ‘I am very glad to meet you and to be able to congratulate you on taking part in the pioneer stages of one of the most remarkable developments in this age of ceaseless wonders. . . .'

The pomposity was more recognisable than the tone and realisation hit Mr Campion like a thump between the shoulder-blades, a split second before the voice continued.

‘This is Leonard Rafael, Editor of
The Daily Paper
. I am speaking from my office in Fleet Street and I am instructed by my proprietor. Lord Feste, to welcome. . . .'

IT OCCURRED TO
Mr Campion, who with Luke had remained at his point of vantage, that defeat had the interesting effect on Lord Ludor of increasing his humanity whilst reducing his size. The rueful smile and faintly soiled, or at least, homely appearance of the resigned loser had settled over him and the change in the atmosphere was considerable.

Those who had trembled were now aggrieved and on all sides people were unfreezing into recognisable personalities as they took sly digs at him, presumably to make sure he was not dying.

‘I hadn't a clue,' he said to the blonde secretary who now looked bigger and as if she could take care of herself. ‘And even you have no idea how damn witty that is! Take a note: “Pa” Palling goes in the black book.'

She looked startled. ‘Won't that upset . . . ?'

‘Of course it will. It'll kick over a dozen apple-carts but it's necessary. I never want to hear his blasted lisp or see his face again. Also the name
“Clew”
is a dirty word in all companies, all departments.'

‘Very well, but I did tell you.'

‘I shall remember it.' He was almost enjoying himself and had even loosened his tie and let his great neck free; this was the Ludor of twenty years before, when set-backs had been more common. ‘Where's Vaughan-Jenner?'

‘Here, sir.' Drasil had come down and he alone was more wary than he would have been earlier, recognising the animal as more dangerous than before. The older man cocked an eye at him. In the normal way he might have growled at the elegant but extreme clothes but now he decided against personal comment. Instead he said: ‘Go and get it into Professor Tabard's head that I apologise. Lay it on as thick as you like but see he accepts it.'

The young man gaped at him but the quick blood, which had risen to his face, receded as he laughed.

‘I can try.'

Ludor's deep round eyes met his own gloomily.

‘Keep at it. Don't give in. Tell him my latest information is that Lord Feste is in the U.S.A. now. On Sunday he was invested with some sort of honorary degree in the University of Boomville and must have spoken with Rafael, who is always in close touch with him, before attending the ceremony. God knows who he's told, so that explains the cable.'

‘I understand.'

‘Tell Tabard, Mayo must be replaced instantly and properly paid this time. Contact the Godley London Office direct about that—Mr McBain. I don't know how much Feste slipped Mayo.'

‘Forgive me!' The blonde was emerging as a power before their eyes. She murmured her objection but it was evident that it was a real one.

‘I don't know!' He shouted the refutal. ‘The cable mentioned Tabard's team specifically. These things that someone is trying on the children and for which Mayo has already been killed may not have been actually made by him here, but they must have been made by somebody from his information. Vaughan-Jenner?'

‘I'm still here.'

‘Soothe Tabard. Make him look in. Is there television over there?'

‘The latest; he looks in all the time.'

‘Good God! Why?'

‘He likes it. He'll probably have heard the announcement.'

‘Sit and watch it with him. I want his reaction. The programme will be on QTV, Feste's own company. Seven o'clock. You'll have to get a move-on.'

From the projection box Mr Campion and Luke watched the jaunty figure slide under them out of sight, pausing only to give them a discreet thumbs up sign as he passed. The Superintendent shook his cropped head.

‘I can't see anyone looking forward to it,' he said gloomily. ‘To me it's such a ghastly idea; much worse than the end of the world. In fact, it will
be
the end of my world when it gets going. Think what it'll mean. New hypocrisies, new manners, new moralities, new sales methods, new relationships, new . . .'

‘World,' said Mr Campion. ‘Let's face it and meanwhile, using the older methods of detection, Charles, what in the name of sanity do you imagine has actually happened?'

‘Search me,' said the Superintendent and had no time to amplify the statement. The door to the iron staircase had opened a few inches and the Chairman of Advance Wires now eased himself in. He had a small tape-machine with him and put it on top of the locker.

‘Message just come through, Bert,' he said. ‘Your missus. Our chaps had been called off the Rectory and were going to pack up when they got this on the beam from the sitting-room window. They thought it might be of interest so they relayed it direct and Feeoh sends it up to you with his compliments. She's got a tongue when she's roused, hasn't she?'

He set the little spools in motion and after a moment of husky anticipation Amanda's beautiful voice cut into the room, a biting intensity in her diction which was startling even to her husband. Her communication was made in the form of a statement delivered without pause or, apparently, intake of breath:—

‘Lady Amanda Campion presents her compliments to the army of clumsy invertebrates who have had the impudence to “bug” her uncle's residence for the past thirty-six hours and would like to inform them that communications with Edward Longfox have been always maintained, despite the inconvenience to his friends and family, who have been compelled to take avoiding action. Now that the necessity for secrecy no longer exists, she would like to advise the plump youth in the cloth hoots, and those assisting him, to look in at a programme on QTV at seven o'clock this evening. She mentions this because she feels that technicians who have managed to overlook the fact that the elderly lady living next door to the Rectory, and visiting it continuously with more clean surplices than any clergyman could possibly use in a month of purification services, is also on the telephone, are quite capable of missing an announcement about the young man they are seeking, made on the public broadcasting service over half an hour ago. Goodnight.'