Peter O'Donnell - Cobra Trap

She read it carefully, passed it to Willie and picked up the next. It was, she supposed, a typical wartime letter subject to censorship, giving nothing away and consisting only of small personal hopes and news. She heard Willie mutter "Jesus!" and waited for him to finish both letters before she spoke.

"I won't read any more, Sir Angus. These are love letters written to Elaine McBeal, serving in the Women's Royal Air Force, by Flight Lieutenant the Honourable Alexander Sayle."

"Who was my father," said McBeal.

Incredibly, there were tears in his eyes now. He swallowed, and made an effort to keep his voice steady as he went on, "I am illegitimate, of course. He went missing six months before I was born. I was in my late teens before my grandparents told me what had happened and gave me the letters. My mother never told him she was pregnant. They said she feared he would think she was trying to force him into marriage. But this is why I have come to thank you, Miss Blaise, for finding my father."

There was a silence while she tried to unravel her tangled thoughts, to understand his motive, to find the right questions. At last she said, "I didn't find your father, Sir Angus. He found me, and saved my life."

"You were the instrument of his being found, Miss Blaise. I cannot tell you how grateful I am."

She said tentatively, "Have you come to me because you wish to see him? Do you feel you have some right of inheritance-?"

"No!" For the first time they saw passion in his cold eyes. "No, no, no! He must never know that I exist. He would be so ashamed of me if he… if he knew the truth about his son."

Willie rubbed his eyes with finger and thumb, wondering if he were dreaming. Modesty made a helpless gesture and said, "I'm at a loss, Sir Angus. For long years you've remembered your father as a hero who died for his country. Why should the discovery that he's alive make you… let's say, take a different view of yourself?"

He looked through her with blank eyes for long seconds, and at last he said in a small voice, "So hard to explain, even to myself. But because he is alive he could… form an opinion of me. An opinion that fills me with shame. I can only say that it has changed everything for me."

Head bowed, he gazed down at the floor in silence for a few moments, then suddenly sat up straight and looked at his watch. His voice was flat and businesslike again as he said, "May we revert to your own situation now, please?"

Modesty gathered up the letters and handed them to him. "In what respect?"

"I said a short time ago that I would provide an alternative to the ultimatum you so rightly presented to Salamander Four and which they ignored."

"They? You exclude yourself?"

"As I have said, I was the sole objector." Again McBeal looked at his watch. "At this moment my three colleagues are gathered at a house in a somewhat remote part of Sussex that we use for board meetings in this country. Shortly before arriving here I telephoned them to say that I was being delayed by traffic and would be about thirty minutes late in joining them. They will now be expecting me shortly." He took a mobile phone from his pocket, dialled a number, listened for a moment and said into the phone, "Stand by."

Still holding the mobile, he glanced towards a side table and said, "I would like to use your telephone now, and I see you have an amplifier. May I switch that on for you to hear?"

Modesty said, "Go ahead."

McBeal rose and picked up the phone. He dialled a number and switched on the amplifier. After two rings a deep voice said, "Yes?"

"Hallo, Chard. I'll be with you in a few minutes. Are Gesner and Pereda there?"

"We are all here waiting for you," said the voice impatiently. "What the devil are you thinking of, using names on an open line?"

McBeal said, "One moment please." He put the mobile phone to his lips and said, "Now."

The deep voice was speaking. "Hallo? Are you there? Hallo-?" The line went dead.

McBeal switched off the amplifier, cradled the phone and listened on his mobile. After a few seconds he said, "That is very satisfactory. I will put through the balance of the agreed sum as arranged." He switched off, put the mobile in his pocket and returned to his chair.

Modesty said slowly, "What exactly have you done?"

McBeal took off his spectacles and began to clean them on a small square of cloth. "I have retired," he said. "I have retired from alternative business. Salamander Four has ceased to exist."

She came to her feet, staring. "The house in Sussex-?"

There has been an explosion caused by escaping gas accumulating in a cellar," said McBeal patiently. "It was arranged and triggered by an expert who observed the effect from a safe distance and just reported to me that the whole house has collapsed and is burning. I believe this will save you a great deal of trouble and danger, Miss Blaise, and I hope you will be convinced that I personally am no threat to you or to Mr Garvin."

She looked at Willie, who had risen with her, and it was the first time he had ever seen her openmouthed. With an effort she collected herself and turned back to McBeal. "Christ!" she said. "What would your father think of that little effort?"

He blinked at her sadly and put his spectacles on. "They were very bad, dangerous men. I think that for your sake my father might well approve."

She turned away and walked to the big picture window, thinking, Yes. Old Alex just might. Willie Garvin was wandering aimlessly around the room, trying to stop feeling disorientated. McBeal sat looking fondly at one of the letters. After a while Modesty said, "Well… you've said your thankyou and you've done us a service, which is what you came for, Sir Angus. Is there anything else?"

He looked up from putting the letters away in his case. "Yes, there is, Miss Blaise, and I urge you to give it serious thought. The man Pike was in our employ not that he knew who his employers were, of course. After events at The Black Horse, and after discharge from hospital, he decamped to Liverpool and was killed in a brawl there by arrangement. We don't, or perhaps I should say we didn't, permit our lowest stratum of employees to cause us to lose respect without their suffering the consequences."

"What's your point?"

"My colleagues and I had a report of the event, and knew at once that you and Mr Garvin were the principal protagonists. For myself I felt only professional admiration. My colleagues, however, were incensed that yet again you had damaged our organisation. They at once agreed that a further attempt on your life should be made without delay. I protested but was again overruled."

McBeal closed the document case and stood up. "Gesner proposed a simple assassination by sniper rifle, hiring the world's best practitioner for the purpose."

Willie said, "Skendi? The Albanian?"

"The same. It was suggested that the best opportunity as regards location would be Miss Blaise's cottage in Wiltshire. At this juncture of the meeting I was required to withdraw since I was opposed to the operation, so I cannot tell you whether the proposal was acted upon. Skendi was in South Africa at the time, and as you are aware, we work through cutouts so it would take several days at least to conclude the contract. I can only tell you that perhaps from this very day you may well both be at risk from long range, and there is now nothing I can do to cancel the contract—if it exists. In that event Skendi will have been paid half one hundred thousand pounds in advance, the rest to be paid on completion. He will not know that this balance cannot now be paid."

McBeal paused, thinking. "I believe there is nothing more I can usefully tell you," he said. "Thank you for your time." He made no attempt to shake hands, but gave another little bow and moved towards the foyer. Weng appeared with his hat and umbrella, handed them to him and opened the lift door. McBeal started to enter, then paused. "May I offer you a word of advice, Miss Blaise?"