I jerked my head at Gregory and we went back into the study. 'There's no need for a call,' I said. 'Ogilvie's instructions were very precise, and they didn't include Cregar.' 'I know that big chap,' said Gregory. 'His name is Martins. A bad chap to tangle with.' He paused.
'Maybe you'd better check with Ogilvie.' 'No. He's told me what to do and I'm going to do it.' 'So what if Cregar won't take it? A bout of fisticuffs with a member of the House of Lords could have its repercussions.' I smiled. 'I doubt if it will come to that. Let's tell his lordship the bad news.' We went back into the hall to find that Cregar and Martins had vanished. 'They'll be upstairs,' said Gregory.
'Come on.' We ran upstairs and found them in Ashton's room. Cregar was tapping his foot impatiently as I stepped forward and said formally, 'My lord, I regret to inform you that you will not be permitted to be present when the vault is opened.' Cregar's eyes bulged. 'Did Ogilvie say that?' 'I have not spoken to Mr Ogilvie recently. I am merely following instructions.' 'You take a lot upon yourself,' he commented.
I turned to Lillywhite. 'How much longer, Frank?' 'Give me ten minutes.' 'No-stop work now. Don't start again until I tell you.' I turned back to Cregar. 'If you would like to speak to Mr. Ogilvie yourself you may use the telephone here or in the study.' Cregar actually smiled. 'You know when to pass the buck. You're quite right; it's better if I speak to Ogilvie. I'll use the study.' 'Show his lordship where it is,' I said to Gregory, and the three of them left the room. Lillywhite said, 'What was all that about?' 'A bit of inter-departmental nonsense; nothing to do with humble servants like ourselves. You can carry on, Frank. That vault must be opened come what may.' He went back to his job and I strolled over to the window and looked down at the drive. Presently Cregar and Martins came out of the house, got into a car, and drove away. Gregory came into the room.
'Cregar was a bit sour when he came out of the study,' he remarked.
'Ogilvie wants to talk to you.' I walked over and picked up the telephone next to Ashton's bed. 'Jaggard here.' Ogilvie said quickly: 'On no account must Cregar know what's in that vault. Don't let him pull rank on you-it's got nothing to do with him.' 'He won't,' I said.
'He's gone.' 'Good. When will you open it?' 'Another five minutes.'
'Keep me informed.' He rang off. Gregory held out a packet of cigarettes and we smoked while Lillywhite and his two assistants fiddled with the door. At last there was a sharp click and Lillywhite said, 'That's it.' I stood up. 'All right. Everybody out except me and Frank.' I waited until they lef t then went to the vault. 'Let's get at it.' 'Right.' Lillywhite put his hand to a lever and pulled it down. Nothing happened. 'There you are.' 'You mean it's open now?'
That's right. Look.' He pulled and the door began to open. It was nearly a foot thick. 'Hold it,' I said quickly. 'Now, can it be locked again and opened easily?' 'Sure. Nothing to it now.' 'That's all I need to know. Sorry, Frank, but I'll have to ask you to leave now.' He gave a crooked smile. 'If what's in here can't even be seen by a member of the House of Lords it's certainly not for Frank Lillywhite.'
He went out and closed the door emphatically. I opened the vault.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN Ogilvie gaped. 'Empty!' 'As bare as Mother Hubbard's cupboard.' I considered that. 'Except for a layer of fine dust on the floor.' 'You checked all the shelves and cabinets?' 'There were no cabinets. There were no shelves. It was just an empty cube. I didn't even go inside; I just stuck my head in and looked around. Then I closed the door again and had it relocked. I thought I'd better leave it as it was in case you want the forensic chaps to have a look at it. My bet is that it's never been used since it was built fifteen years ago.' 'Well, my God!' Ogilvie stopped then. He seemed at a total loss for words, but he was thinking furiously. I stepped over to the window and looked down into the empty street. It was late and the bowler-hatted tide had receded from the City leaving it deserted except for a few stragglers. There is no other urban area in the world that can look so empty as the City of London. Ogilvie said thoughtfully, 'So only you, the chief of the safe-opening team, and now me, know about this.' I turned. 'Even your Chief Burglar doesn't know. I sent Lillywhite out of the room before I opened the vault.'
'So it's only you and me. Damn!' He swore so explosively that I said, 'What's wrong?' 'It's backfired on me. Cregar will never believe me now when I tell him the truth about that damned vault. I wish now he'd been there.' Personally I didn't care what Cregar believed or didn't believe. I took a sheet of paper from my wallet, unfolded it, and laid it on the desk. 'This is the new combination for opening the vault.
Lillywhite reset it.' 'This is the only copy?' 'Lillywhite must have a record of it.' Ogilvie wagged his head. 'This will bear a lot of thinking about. In the meantime you carry on looking for Ashton and Benson, and don't forget they might have split up. Made any progress?'
'Only by elimination, if you call that progress.' 'All right,' said Ogilvie tiredly. 'Carry on.' I had my hand on the doorknob when he said, 'Malcolm.' 'Yes.' 'Watch out for Cregar. He makes a bad enemy.'
'I'm not fighting Cregar,' I said. 'He's nothing to do with me. What's between you and him is way over my head.' 'He didn't like the way you stood up to him this afternoon.' 'He didn't show it-he was pleasant enough.' 'That's his way, but he'll only pat you on the back to find a place to stick a knife. Watch him.' 'He is nothing to do with me,' I repeated. 'Maybe,' said Ogilvie. 'But Cregar may not share your view.'
After that nothing happened for a while. The Special Branch investigation petered out with no result although their men at the exits were still keeping a sharp watch in case our pair made a late dash for it. Honnister had nothing to offer. On my third enquiry he said tartly, 'Don't ring us-we'll ring you.' I spent two and a half days reading every word of the bushel or so of miscellaneous papers Gregory had brought back from Ashton's house-appointment books, financial records, business diaries, letters and so on. As a result of that many enquiries were made but nothing of interest turned up.
Ashton's companies were given a thorough going-over with like result.
A week after Ashton's disappearance my team was cut in half. I kept Brent with Penny and Michaelis looked after Gillian, leaving two to do the legwork. I was doing a lot of legwork myself, going sixteen hours a day, running like hell like the Red Queen to stay in the same place.
Larry Godwin was back at his desk reading the East European journals.
His fling at freedom had been brutally brief. The boffins had nothing much to report. The computer tapes showed nothing out of the ordinary except some very clever program designing, but what the programs did was nothing special. The prototype whatsit Ashton had been tinkering with caused a flood of speculation which left a thin sediment of hard fact. The consensus of opinion was that it was a pilot plant of a process designed to synthesize insulin; very ingenious and highly patentable but still in an early stage of design. It told me nothing to my purpose. The day after we opened the empty vault I had telephoned Penny. 'Is this to tell me you've found Daddy?' she asked.
'No, I've nothing to tell you about that. I'm sorry.' 'Then I don't think we've much to talk about, Malcolm,' she said, and rang off before I could get in another word. Right at that moment I didn't know whether we were still engaged or not. After that I kept in touch with her movements through Brent. She went back to doing her work at University College, London, but tended to use her car more instead of the train. She didn't seem to resent Brent; he was her passenger in her daily journeys to and from London, and she always kept him informed of her proposed movements. He was enjoying his assignment and thought she was a very nice person. He didn't think she knew he was armed. And, no, she never talked of me. Gillian was moved to Moorfields Eye Hospital and I went to see her. After checking with Michaelis I had a few words with her doctor, a specialist called Jarvis. 'She's still heavily bandaged,' he said. 'And she'll need cosmetic plastic surgery, but that will toe later and in another place. Here we are concerned only with her eyes.' 'What are the odds, Doctor?' He said carefully, 'There may be a chance of restoring some measure of sight to the left eye. There's no hope for the right eye at all.' He looked straight at me. 'Miss Ashton doesn't know that yet.