Stan Mason - Stopping World War Three

‘No, no!’ I stressed sharply. ‘Not yet! This is something quite different. It’s personal. I need your help.’

‘Come inside then, man,’ he invited. ‘I hate standin’ in doorways talkin’ to people. Come inside!’

I followed him up to his room. Producing the tape from my pocket. I knew that the information on it was pretty poor but it was important for me to try to find out the background noises on it. It could be a matter of life or death!

‘Can you bring up the background noise with your equipment? Is it possible to amplify it? I want to find out something from the second message… the woman’s voice.’

‘No sweat, man’ he returned casually. ‘Do it all the time. In my spare moments I’m also a radio ham. Didn’t you see the aerial on the roof. Here… let me have the tape.’

He placed it in a machine, donned on a pair of headphones, and played it through once. ‘Hey, that’s heavy man!’ he commented, taking off the headphones. ‘Sounds as though she’s been kidnapped. What’s all the stuff about bridge?’

‘Never mind that now,’ I growled. ‘Can you reduce the foreground and enhance the background?’

He scratched his unkempt hair and I imagined him turning his lips into a pout underneath the frothy beard as the wheels of his mind began to churn. He put on the headphones again and played with the tape again before removing them again. ‘The definition is lousy. Those telephone answering machines are designed to give you a message… nothing more.’

He handed the headphones to me and I wiped them thoroughly before placing them over my ears, nodding to him to start the machine. There was a lot of white noise and some static as Jan delivered her message. I listened intently eventually removing the headphones and shaking my head slowly.

‘Something’s there but it’s impossible to make it out. I need more than that!’

He chewed on his lower lip for a while and then turned to me.

‘What I can do is to make a copy of the tape which you can keep for record purposes. Then I can play around with the original in a number of ways to bring up the background. If I don’t do that, there’s a danger that the original tape could be corrupted if I push it too far.’

‘Can you take a copy and play around with it instead of the original,’ I asked intensely.

‘Not really. With this kind of tape, every copy loses definition. I want to give the original the full works.’ I consented reluctantly and he made a copy which he handed to me before setting to work on the original. ‘Help yourself to some coffee,’ he remarked, setting the headphones back on his head.

I surveyed a number of unwashed cups on the table and decided not to accept his hospitality. He devoted his attention to his work and started to press keys on the machine moving the tape forwards and backwards, shunting to a violent halt one way and then the other. I watched him closely as he played with the tape for a considerable amount of time. There was no way I could assess his ability. I was in his hands and could only hope he knew what he was doing. In due course, he sat upright and offered the headphones to me.

‘I’ve wiped out practically all the white noise., eliminated the static, and reverted the background to the foreground,’ he boasted immodestly. ‘But let me say this. The quality is very poor but at least you’ll be able to hear some of the background noise with reasonable clarity. There’s a chance I can raise part of the volume but such action might corrupt the tape. Listen in, man!’

I put on the headphones with an element of excitement and listened intently. Jan’s message could be heard but it was very faint. Suddenly, I could hear the sound of music although it wasn’t possible to identify the tune. It appeared to be right at the end of a song. As the music ended, there was a voice which was hardly audible. ‘Stop it there!’ I ordered sharply. ‘I heard the last few bars of a tune and the sound of a voice. Can you bring it up any further?’

‘If I do, the tape might corrupt,’ he returned with concern.

‘Then do it!’ I commanded. ‘Play it… as loud as you can!’

He pressed a number of keys on the machine, returning to the exact point where the music had finished. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen!’ came the voice of a man, and then the tape ended.

Chris Devon shook his head sadly. ‘I warned you, man. It’s kaputville! We stretched the elastic too far. I just hope you got what you wanted.’

Music… and a man saying ‘Ladies and Gentlemen!’ It wasn’t much to go on but it was all I needed. At a stroke, I had narrowed the clubs down from twenty-nine to five for there were five nightclubs in the county and Jan was being held in one of them. I thanked Chris Devon profusely for his efforts paying him handsomely for the work and raced home again to contact my assistant.

‘Harry,’ I began, with an edge of excitement in my voice. ‘How many nightclubs are there close to any of the bridges you identified?’

‘Give me a moment, will you,’ he replied helpfully, disappearing to check the data on his notes before returning to the telephone. ‘This must be your lucky day,’ he told me cheerfully as though we had won the prize. ‘There’s only one nightclub close to a bridge. The bridge is there because there’s a lake. The nightclub’s called The Golden Peacock near Welwyn Garden City. I’m intrigued… how did you work out that the place had to be a nightclub?’

‘Thanks, Harry,’ I told him gratefully. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when I next see you.’

The Golden Peacock near Welwyn Garden City! At last I knew where she was being held! I thought about contacting the police. It would have been the right thing to do but there would be complications. As soon as I informed them of the situation, they would ask how I knew about The Golden Peacock and undertake an investigation. They might even find that I had two passports in different names and it was certain they would disbelieve everything I told them about the 21st Century Crusaders. They only worked on evidence and proof. Sadly it was all against me personally. My only evidence was a copy of the tape which was of little value because the original had been corrupted. All I would be doing was to draw attention to myself which could affect the assault on the weaponry division when Chris Devon and I set out to steal the plans of the laser gun. Finding Jan was something I had to do alone. I decided to ring Penny to obtain answers to the questions that kept nagging me but there was no reply. The woman was becoming extremely elusive. I had felt certain our relationship took us well beyond the cause of the 21st Century Crusaders but it appeared that I was wrong on that point too. I replaced the receiver and sought an answer by recalling our last conversation. ‘It’s best if I meet you tomorrow evening at seven-thirty at our usual restaurant,’ she had insisted against my better nature. Unfortunately, I had to fly to Turkey so it wasn’t possible for me to be there. Where was she now… and why was she avoiding me?

On the following morning, I started clearing up the house to make it habitable. It was a monumental task and I didn’t get far. It was almost noon when I gave it up and lay back on my reconstructed settee to rest when the telephone rang. I hurried to answer the call, hoping it was Penny, but it was Schmuel Musaphia.

‘Meet me at the Savoy Hotel tomorrow morning at nine o’clock,’ he ordered coldly.

‘I don’t think so!’ I responded unsocially. ‘I’ve got other plans.’ I had no intention of revealing that I intended to visit The Golden Peacock at Welwyn Garden City. It was really none of his business even though he was involved in some way.

‘Cancel them!’ he continued bluntly. ‘Nine o’clock at the Savoy