Goodbye California - Alistair [80]
CHAPTER EIGHT
Delage was with a man the Ryders hadn’t seen before, a young man, fair-haired, broad, wearing a grey flannel suit cut loose to conceal whatever weaponry he was carrying and a pair of dark glasses of the type much favoured by Secret Service men who guard Presidents and heads of State.
‘Leroy,’ Dunne said. ‘San Diego. He’s liaising with Washington on LeWinter’s codes. He’s also in touch with the AEC plant in Illinois, checking on Carlton’s past contacts and has a team working on the lists of the weirdoes. Anything yet, Leroy?’
Leroy shook his head. ‘Late afternoon, hopefully.’
Dunne turned to Delage. ‘So what didn’t you want to tell me over the phone? What’s so hush-hush?’
‘Won’t be hush-hush much longer. The wire services have it but Barrow told them to sit on it. When the director tells people to sit on something, it’s sat on.’ He nodded to a taperecorder. ‘We recorded this over the direct line from Los Angeles. Seems that Durrer of ERDA was sent a separate recording.’
He pressed a switch and a smooth educated voice began to speak, in English but not American English. ‘My name is Morro and I am, as many of you will know by this time, the person responsible for the San Ruffino reactor break-in. I have messages to you from some eminent scientists and I suggest you all listen very carefully. For your own sakes, please listen carefully.’ The tape stopped as Dunne raised a hand.
He said: ‘Anyone recognize that voice?’ Clearly no one did. ‘Anyone identify that accent? Would it give you any idea where Morro comes from?’
Delage said: ‘Europe? Asia? Could be any place. Could be an American with a phoney accent.’
‘Why don’t you ask the experts?’ Ryder said. ‘University of California. On one campus or another, anywhere between San Diego and Stanford, you’ll find some professor or lecturer who’ll recognize it. Don’t they claim to teach every major and most of the important minor languages in the world somewhere in this State?’
‘A point. Barrow and Sassoon may already have thought of it. We’ll mention it.’ He nodded to Delage who flipped the switch again.
A rasping and indignant voice said: ‘This is Professor Andrew Burnett of San Diego. It’s not someone trying to imitate me – my voice-prints are in security in the University. This blackhearted bastard Morro –’ And so Burnett continued until he had finished his wrathful tirade. Dr Schmidt, who followed him on the tape, sounded just as furious as Burnett. Healey and Bramwell were considerably more moderate, but all four men had one thing in common – they were utterly convincing.
Dunne said to no one in particular: ‘We believe them?’
‘I believe them.’ Delage’s certainty was absolute. ‘That’s the fourth time I’ve heard that played and I believe it more every time. You could tell they weren’t being coerced, under the influence of drugs, physical intimidation, anything like that. Especially not with Professor Burnett. You can’t fake that kind of anger. Provided, of course, that those four men are who they claim to be – and they have to be: they’ll be on TV and radio any time and there must be hundreds of colleagues, friends, students who can confirm their genuineness. A megaton? That’s the equivalent of a million tons of TNT, isn’t it? Downright nasty.’
Ryder said to Dunne: ‘Well, that’s part of the answer to what we were talking about back in Donahure’s house. To confirm the existence of those plans and scare the living daylights out of us. Us and everybody in California. They’re going to succeed, wouldn’t you say?’
Leroy said: ‘What gets me is that they haven’t given the faintest indication as to what they’re up to.’
‘That’s what’s going to get everyone,’ Ryder said. ‘That’s part of his psychological gambit. Scare the living daylights out of everyone.’
‘And speaking of scaring the living daylights, I’m afraid there is more to come.’ Dunne flicked the ‘On’ switch again and Morro’s voice came through once more.
‘A postscript, if you please. The authorities claim that the earthquake