Part 8 (1/2)

'Rupert goes to the Continent a lot. Takes one of his fancy ladies with him. He's had a harem of floozies. No, that's not quite right. They're a snooty type, well educated, with not a hint of a brain.'

'Really?'

'He likes the casinos over there. Gambles heavily. Must cost him a packet.'

'I expect he can afford it.'

'Don't know he can. When his mother died she left him some kind of regular allowance. Wouldn't have thought it ran to the sort of life he lives.'

'I see.'

Paula ate one of the cakes. She was being careful not to say much. She didn't like gossip. Above all she didn't want to say anything which might be repeated to Rupert's father.

'He likes shooting. Pheasants. Boasts about it. He's always saying one bullet, one bird. I'd better leave you now. I'm going up to the turret.'

'What's up there?'

'Gives me a good view of what Rupert is up to. You mind my words. Give Rupert a clear berth.'

On this note she ambled slowly to the door, left the library, closing the door behind her. Paula selected another cake. As she consumed it her mind whirled with thoughts. She was also wondering how Tweed was getting on with his host.

'How about a double Scotch?' Strangeways had suggested as soon as they were alone.

'No, thank you. I'm driving.'

He watched Strangeways walk briskly to a cabinet against a wall. Taking out a gla.s.s and a bottle of expensive whisky, his host poured a generous drink. As the bottle touched the rim of the gla.s.s it rattled. He drank half the contents, returned to the table, sat facing Tweed.

'That's better. I needed it.'

'You're worried about something?'

'Tweed, you know I've spent a long time in the States. By now I know America. I know a lot of the top people. I know the way they're thinking. Incidentally, I'm having dinner with Jefferson Morgenstern in town this evening.'

'Is he worried?'

'I think so. Look at it from their point of view. Globally. They feel encircled. Across the Pacific they have China facing them. That's a distance, but not in these days of inter-continental ballistic missiles. They think the Russians are going to ally themselves with the Chinese.

That's looking west from where they sit. Now take Europe and the Middle East. Iran, to mention only one Muslim state, is building a nuclear a.r.s.enal. If it combined with Turkey - which could soon become a Muslim state again - they might over-run Europe. Turkey, as you know, is close to having 'a population of a hundred and fifty million. Bigger than any nation in Western Europe.'

'Iran is a long way from America,' Tweed pointed out, glancing at the wall map of the world facing him.

'London is roughly half the distance Beijing is from San Francisco - and they're worried about Beijing.'

'Why mention London?'

'It's much closer to the East Coast of America.' 'Why is that relevant?'

'If an enormous Muslim power took over Britain, America would be an isolated fortress, menaced on both coasts.'

'Why do they think that would happen?' Tweed enquired.

'Because they think this European Union idea is a shambles. Umpteen nations, speaking different languages, with different histories, many secretly hating each other. They quote the old Austro-Hungarian Empire - also a. goulash of nationalities - which collapsed at the end of the First World War. More recently, they point to Yugoslavia. Again a mix of races with their own languages, religions. t.i.to dies and the whole house of cards comes tumbling down.

'So?'

'They foresee a scenario whereby an overwhelming Muslim force could conquer Western Europe. Supposing a federated Europe was attacked. Imagine the indecision in Brussels. They'd still be working out what to do when the Muslims crossed the Rhine. There'd be a large element arguing that any life would be better than death.'

'So what do the Americans propose to do about it?'

'They have a plan. I do know that. Morgenstern, remember, was born in Europe. Was in Europe until he was a young man and went to the States.'

'It's his plan?'

'I don't know. But he carries tremendous influence in Was.h.i.+ngton.'

'What is the plan?' Tweed asked point blank.

'I don't know. They never forget I'm English.' Strangeways finished off his drink. 'So they don't confide in me.'

'But you seem to know a lot.'

'I simply know how they're thinking. What about you? Have you a clue as to what is going on?'

'Nothing, really,' Tweed replied evasively.

'I do know they think very highly of you, Tweed,' Strangeways said casually.

Strangeways was looking at the wall as he said this. His right hand was playing with his empty gla.s.s. For a moment Tweed detected a hint of s.h.i.+ftiness in his host, something he had never seen before.

'Why me?' he asked.

'They respect your global outlook. Your achievements in the past. Above all, you're not a politician. Morgenstern once described you as having the brain of a statesman.'

'Nice of him. Do you agree with what is happening?'

'd.a.m.n it, I can't make up my mind. The world is changing day by day. There's no precedent for the present grim situation.'

'Why did you ask me down here, Guy? If I may call you that?'

'Of course you may. I felt a strong need for a sounding board. To get your reaction. I'm going to have another drink.'

'I hope you don't mind - ' Tweed checked his watch - 'but I'll have to be going soon.'

He looked round the chilly uncomfortable room. Yes, it all came from a boarding-school upbringing. There was an atmosphere in the room he didn't like, a restlessness which he felt sure originated in his host. He also felt alarmed and couldn't put his finger on the reason for this sensation.

'Sorry, Tweed,' Strangeways said, returning with his refilled gla.s.s. 'I've been pouring out my anxieties to you. Not like me.'