Flyaway / Windfall. Desmond Bagley

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СКАЧАТЬ to Mr Malleson about it. It won’t hurt Electronomics to wait another half-hour.’ I picked up the Electronomics file and left, feeling Joyce’s disapproving eye boring into my back.

      Charlie Malleson was evidently feeling more like work than I – his in-tray was almost half empty. I perched my rump on the edge of his desk and dropped the file in front of him. ‘I don’t like this one.’

      He looked up and sighed. ‘What’s wrong with it, Max?’

      ‘They want guard dogs without handlers. That’s against the rules.’

      He raised his eyebrows. ‘I didn’t catch that.’

      ‘Neither did Fergus and he should have. You know what I think about it. You can build defences around a factory like the Berlin Wall but some bright kid is going to get through at night just for the devil of it. Then he runs up against a dog on the loose and gets mauled – or killed.’ Charlie opened the file. ‘See Clause 28.’

      He checked it. ‘That wasn’t in the contract I vetted. It must have been slipped in at the last moment.’

      ‘Then it gets slipped out fast or Electronomics can take their business elsewhere. You wanted to see me about the board meeting?’

      ‘His Lordship will be at home at four this afternoon.’

      His Lordship was Lord Brinton who owned twenty-five per cent of Stafford Security Consultants Ltd. I got up and went to the window and stared at the tower of the Inter-City Building – Brinton’s lair. From the penthouse he overlooked the City, emerging from time to time to gobble up a company here and arrange a profitable merger there. ‘Four o’clock is all right; I’ll tell Joyce. Is everything in order?’

      ‘As smooth as silk.’ Charlie eyed me appraisingly. ‘You don’t look too good. Got a touch of ’flu coming on?’

      ‘A touch of something. I was told the name of a man this morning and I didn’t know he worked for us. That’s bad.’

      He smiled. ‘This business is getting bigger than both of us. The penalty of success.’

      I nodded. ‘I’m chained to my damned desk seven hours out of eight. Sometimes I wish we were back in the bad old days when we did our own legwork. Now I’m shuffling too many bloody papers around.’

      ‘And a lot of those are crisp, crackling fivers.’ Charlie waved at the view – the City of London in all its majesty. ‘Don’t knock success on this hallowed ground – it’s immoral.’ The telephone rang and he picked it up, then held it out to me.

      It was Joyce. ‘Mr Hoyland wants to speak to you.’

      ‘Put him on.’ I covered the mouthpiece and said to Charlie, ‘You might like to listen to this one. It’s about time you administrative types knew what goes on at the sharp end of the business.’

      The telephone clicked and clattered. ‘Mr Stafford?’

      ‘Max Stafford here.’

      ‘This is Hoyland from …’

      ‘I know who you are, Mr Hoyland,’ I said, feeling like a con man. ‘What’s your trouble?’

      ‘I’ve come up against a funny one, sir,’ he said. ‘A man called Billson vanished a week ago and I’ve run into a blank wall.’

      ‘How critical is Billson?’

      ‘He’s not on the technical side; he’s in the accounts office. But …’

      ‘Have you checked the books?’

      ‘They balance to a penny,’ said Hoyland. ‘It’s not that, sir; it’s the attitude of the company. I’m getting no cooperation at all.’

      ‘Expand on that.’

      ‘Well, Billson is a bit of a dumb bunny and he’s getting paid a lot more than he’s worth. He’s on £8000 a year and doing the work of an office boy. When I asked Isaacson why, I got a bloody dusty answer. He said the salary structure is no concern of security.’

      Hoyland was annoyed, and rightly so. I was annoyed myself because when we took on a contract it was stipulated that everything was the concern of security. ‘He said that, did he? Who is Isaacson?’

      ‘Chief Accountant,’ said Hoyland. ‘Can you get on the blower and straighten him out? He’s not taking much notice of me.’

      ‘He’ll get straightened out,’ I said grimly. ‘Let’s get back to Billson – what do you mean when you say he’s vanished?’

      ‘He didn’t turn up last week and he sent in no word. When we made enquiries we found he’d left his digs without explanation.’ Hoyland paused. ‘That’s no crime, Mr Stafford.’

      ‘Not unless he took something with him. You say he isn’t critical?’

      ‘Definitely not. He’s been a fixture in the accounting department for fifteen years. No access to anything that matters.’

      ‘Not that we know of.’ I thought about it for a few moments. ‘All right, Mr Hoyland; I’ll have a word with Isaacson. In the meantime check back on Billson; you never know what you might find.’

      ‘I’ll do that, Mr Stafford.’ Hoyland seemed relieved. Bucking top management was something he’d rather not do himself.

      I put down the telephone and grinned at Charlie. ‘See what I mean. How would you handle a thing like that?’

      ‘Franklin Engineering,’ he said reflectively. ‘Defence contractors, aren’t they?’

      ‘They do a bit for the army. Suspension systems for tanks – nothing serious.’

      ‘What are you going to do about it?’

      ‘I’m going to blow hell out of this joker, Isaacson. No money-pusher is going to tell one of my security officers what concerns security and what doesn’t.’

      Charlie tilted back his chair and regarded me speculatively. ‘Why don’t you do it personally – face to face? You’ve been complaining about being tied to your desk, so why don’t you pop over to Luton and do some legwork? You can easily get back in time for the board meeting. Get out of the office, Max; it might take that sour look off your face.’

      ‘Is it as bad as that?’ But the idea was attractive, all the same. ‘All right, Charlie; to hell with the desk!’ I rang Joyce. ‘Get on to Hoyland at Franklin Engineering – tell him I’m on my way to Luton and to hold himself available.’ I cut off her wail of protest. ‘Yes, I know the state of the intray – it’ll get done tomorrow.’

      As I put down the telephone Charlie said, ‘I don’t suppose it is really important.’

      ‘I shouldn’t think so. The man’s either gone on a toot or been knocked down by a car or something like that. No, Charlie; this is a day’s holiday, expenses paid by the firm.’

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