Elric to Rescue Tanelorn - Michael Moorcock [79]
“Do whatever you like. You’ll be taking on some help, I understand?”
“About twenty men. Mr. Smiles has arranged them. He says they’ll be sufficient.” Mr. Lucas glanced at Mr. Smiles, who nodded.
“They should be,” Jerry said thoughtfully. “The house is well guarded, but naturally they won’t call the police. With our special equipment you ought to be all right. Don’t forget to burn the house.”
“Mr. Smiles has already reminded us of that, Mr. Cornelius,” said Dimitri. “As have you. We will do exactly as you say.”
Jerry turned up the wide collar of his coat. “Right. I’ll be off.”
“Take care, Mr. Cornelius,” said Miss Brunner smoothly as he went out.
“Oh, I will, I think,” he said.
The six people didn’t talk much after Cornelius had left. Only Miss Brunner moved to another chair. She seemed out of sorts.
CHAPTER TWO
Beat music filled the old Duesenberg as Jerry Cornelius drove towards the Kent coast—Zoot Money, The Who, the Moody Blues, The Beatles, Manfred Mann, and The Animals. Jerry played only the best on his built-in tape machine.
The volume was turned up to full blast. There were three speakers in various parts of the car, and it was impossible for Jerry to hear even the sound of the engine. In the spring clip near the steering wheel the contents of a glass danced to the thud of the bass. From time to time Cornelius would reach for the glass, take a sip, and fix it back in the clip. Once he put his hand inside the glove compartment and brought it out full of pills. He had not slept for the best part of a week, and the pills no longer stopped him from feeling edgy; but he crammed his mouth with them, just the same, washing them down. A little later he took out a half-bottle of Bell’s and refilled the glass.
The road ahead was wet, and rain still beat at the windscreen. The two pairs of wipers swished away in time with the music. Though the heater was on, he felt cold.
Just outside Dover he stopped at a filling station while he rolled himself a thin cigarette out of licorice paper and Old Holborn. He paid the man, lit his cigarette, and rode on in the general direction of the coast, turning off onto a side-road and eventually driving down the main street of the harbour village of Southquay, strains of guitars, organs, and high voices drifting in the car’s wake. The sea was black under the overcast sky. He drove slowly along the quayside, the car’s wheels bumping on cobbles. He switched off the tape machine.
There was a small hotel set back from the road. It was called The Yachtsman. Its sign showed a smiling man in yachting gear. Behind him was a view of the harbour as seen from the hotel. The sign moved a little in the wind. Jerry backed the Duesenberg into the hotel’s courtyard, left the keys in the ignition, and got out. He put his hands in the high pockets of his coat and stood stretching his legs by the car for a moment, looking over the black water at the moored boats. One of them was his launch, which he’d had converted from a modern lifeboat.
He glanced back at the hotel, noting that no lights had gone on and that no-one seemed to be stirring. He crossed to the waterside. A metal ladder led down into the sea. He climbed down a few rungs and then jumped from the ladder to the deck of his launch. Pausing for a moment to get his sea legs, he made straight for the well-kept bridge. He didn’t switch on the lights but, by finding the instruments by touch, got the motor warming up.
He went out on deck again and cast off.
Soon he was steering his way out of the harbour towards the open sea.
Only the man in the harbourmaster’s office saw him leave. Happily for Jerry, the man was quite as corrupt as the six people who had been at the house in Blackheath. He had, as they used to say, his price.
Steering a familiar course, Jerry headed the boat towards the coasts of Normandy, where his late father had built his fake Le Corbusier château. It was an ancient building, built well before the Second World War.
Once outside the three-mile limit, Jerry switched on the radio and got the latest station, Radio