Peter O'Donnell - Cobra Trap

"In fact," Tarrant said gently, "Old Alex is Lord Sayle, and his younger brother is simply the Honourable Mark Sayle."

Modesty said, "I don't care about all that. I care only about Old Alex."

Tarrant nodded. "And with good reason, for although in truth it was your own abilities that saved you, he was the man who heard and responded. You fear what effect revelation may have upon him, but should you therefore deny him knowledge of his own birthright?"

She sat gazing into space for perhaps a minute, then sighed and looked at Tarrant. "No, I can't deny that knowledge, either to him or to his family. But you have to keep my name out of the newspapers. You can tell his brother in confidence, because he may want to talk to me, but as far as the media's concerned Alex saved an unknown woman who was injured near a remote farm in the Pyrenees, and this revelation… emerged. Dress it up any way you like."

Tarrant sat up straight. " I'm to dress it up? You expect me to break this to the Sayle family?"

Willie said, "Who else? You've got the clout to make 'em listen to what seems a barmy story, and anyway you owe the Princess. Jesus, she's left skin and blood all over the place pulling chestnuts out of the fire for you."

Tarrant winced. "Don't remind me." He looked at Modesty. "All right, my dear, I'll do what I can. But even with Willie's assessment of my clout it won't be easy to convince Sayle that the brother he's believed dead for fifty years is still alive."

Modesty opened the handbag beside her and took something from it. She rose, moved to Tarrant's chair and bent to kiss his cheek. "Thank you," she said. "You're not a bad old gentleman really, and you won't have any trouble. Just show Lord Sayle these." She dropped the identity discs into his hand.

Tarrant stared down at them, then looked up. "You were able to bring them back with you?"

"Yes. Because Matilde gave them to me. I think she believes he's entitled to know of his birthright at last."

Professor Stephen Collier said, "Well you certainly managed to hit the headlines without actually getting your name in the papers. Have you seen him since his brother brought him home?"

"Once," said Modesty. "Apparently he kept asking for me, and I went down to Sayle Manor to see him. They were all being very kind, but he looked so… so out of place with his nice suit and a clean shave instead of stubble."

Three weeks had passed since Tarrant's visit. Steve and Dinah Collier, closest of all friends to Modesty and Willie, were with them in the penthouse roof garden on a late afternoon of a warm day. Their glasses were almost empty and Modesty's houseboy, Weng, had just brought a fresh jug of fruit juice and another of meursault and soda.

"Was the old chap unhappy?" Collier asked.

Modesty shrugged. "I don't know. I was so afraid he'd be angry with me, feel betrayed, but he was so pleased to see me and he seemed as… as jolly as ever. But I'm not sure he wasn't putting on a show for me."

Dinah turned her sightless eyes towards where Modesty sat beside her and said, "Look, honey, you have to stop fretting. You did what you had to do, and it's something for the Sayle family to work out now. You can argue points on this for hours and get nowhere. I know, because old Collier there kept me awake for about three hours the other night with his "on the one hand this, and on the other hand that"."

Collier grinned and flickered an eyelid at Willie. "I'd been secretly reading an article in Cosmopolitan about making the matrimonial bed more exciting, and I thought that a stimulating discussion of moral issues would be a surefire success. Unfortunately all I got from my beloved was some neanderthal grunts culminating in a threat to tie my leg in a knot if I didn't shut up. I think it was my leg."

Dinah gasped. "He just makes it up, Modesty! He's a terrible liar! That's not how I shut him up in the end."

"My darling," said Collier, "you don't imagine these two experienced people ever believe me, do you? Now let's move on to this cave business." He looked at Modesty. "You're in a rut, you know. You got a knockout needle in your bottom only last year, and now you've done it again with a dart. I trust it was the other cheek?"

"I'm sorry, Steve, I can't remember."

"You must try harder, darling. Balance is all. I suggest a small cross tattooed on the puncture next time."

"He's jabbering like that because he's likely to explode any moment," said Dinah. "You watch."

"Yes, I bloody well am," said Collier, his lean intelligent face suddenly taut with anger. "Do you know who those cave bastards were, Modesty? And if so, then what? Or even if not, then what?"

"We don't as yet know who they were," said Modesty. "As to "then what?" I'm not making any announcements even to you, in fact especially to you, Steve. You'll only go all bitter and bad—tempered about taking risks and so on. We never take risks we don't have to."

"I'll do no such thing," said Collier grimly. "My heart's desire is that you go and find these unutterably evil buggers and make sure they're never seen or heard of again. I ask for nothing lingering. I'm not a vengeful type. But such creatures aren't fit to live, so please see they don't."

His voice was shaking as he ended, and Dinah said, "Easy, tiger. The girl's safe home with us again." She turned to Modesty. "Oh God, you should have been at our place when I first told him. Willie had rung and given me the whole story of you in the cave, then Steve came home and I told him. We were in the kitchen, and when I finished I could hear him sort of gibbering, then he actually flung a plate against the wall and smashed it to smithereens."

"I was throwing it at Dinah," declared Collier, himself again, "to stop her snivelling about what had happened to you, but I missed." He shrugged. "Nobody's perfect. I remember Cetewayo saying that very thing to me during my last but one incarnation, when I was with his renowned Silver Assegai Impi during the Zulu Wars. I threw my assegai at a redcoat but it went the wrong way and hit Cetewayo in the foot. "Don't worry, Umbopo," he told me as he limped up to me, "nobody's perfect." Then he caved my head in with his knobkerry. I'll never forget it."

By the time Collier had finished it was tacitly accepted that the cave and Old Alex were not for further discussion, and conversation moved to other matters. At six o'clock the Colliers left to spend a few days with friends in Cambridge. At seventhirty Modesty and Willie were taking a predinner swim in the pool beneath the penthouse block when the attendant came from his cubbyhole and called, "It's Weng on the phone, Miss Blaise. Urgent, he says."

"Thank you, Charlie." She pulled herself from the pool and moved towards the cubbyhole, dabbing herself with a towel. Willie followed.

"Yes, Weng?"

"I have Mrs Collier on the line, Miss Blaise. She's at Kempton Road Hospital."

Watching, Willie saw her eyes widen then go suddenly hard as she listened. He was familiar with every nuance of her expression and body language, and knew she was controlling a surge of fury. After perhaps thirty seconds she said, "I see. Where's their car now?" A pause. "All right, Weng. Tell her we'll be with her as fast as we can get there and we'll take care of everything."

She put the phone down. Willie was already holding her wrap for her to put on. As they moved to the lift she said, "Steve's been beaten up. Pretty badly, I think. Dinah's at Kempton Road Hospital with him."

Willie's face lost a little colour. He said, "Is Dinah hurt?"

"Not physically. There was a traffic diversion and Steve lost his way somewhere in the East End. Went into a pub to ask directions, and a man beat him up."

"Did Dinah say why?"