The Cauldron Read Online Free Page B

severity.
    'I'm a mute,' Paula replied and put her hand across her mouth. 'Do go on - and on and on.'
    Newman then told her of his experience with Marler the previous night, when they had brought the woman swimmer out of the water. Paula was startled, appalled.
    "This is a repeat performance of what I experienced back at Octopus Cove. It's amazing.'
    'It's significant.' Newman agreed. 'Considering Venetia V was present on both occasions. I'm convinced now the reason Tweed sent us down here was he knew that ship was heading for Falmouth, was due to reach here very soon.'
    He then picked up the envelope he had dropped on Paula's bed. Taking out the three prints he held them in his hand.
    "These are pics of the woman who came out of the sea at the bottom of the path Marler and I walked down. They're good shots. She was dead when I took them.'
    'You left her there?' asked Paula.
    'No alternative. Tweed doesn't want us tangled up with the police. I called Truro police station anonymously so she wouldn't lie there all night.'
    He spread the prints out on the bed. Paula and Marler stood up, went to the end of the bed. As she stared down at them Paula almost let out a small scream. Controlling herself, she gazed at the photos as though hypnotized. Newman sensed her shock.
    'What's wrong?'
    "This is the same woman I hauled out at Octopus Cove - but she was dead. Dead! So how can she have come ashore here? Six thousand miles away from California. I know it's the same woman. Oh, God, what is going on?'

    1

    Inside his office at Mullion Towers a small neat man in his late forties sat behind his desk. His expression was hypnotic, his eyes pale and penetrating, and he radiated an air of power. The world would have expected this man to occupy a large palatial room furnished with expensive carpets and antiques. Instead, the room had no carpet on the wooden floor, his desk and swivel chair were inexpensive furniture, the pictures on the walls were prints of Monet paintings and in one corner stood two massive metal filing cabinets. A carver chair stood on the other side of his desk and in another corner was a massive safe with two combination locks. Its base was sunk into concrete and it was equipped with a series of sophisticated alarms. Anyone even touching the safe would have set off a flashing light in the Guard House situated on the ground floor below the office.
    Vincent Bernard Moloch was studying a map of California with strange irregular lines running from the south up through the state, past Silicon Valley, the home of the electronics industry in America, and on to San Francisco. As someone started to open the door he folded the map quickly, clasped his hands on the desk.
    'You wanted to see me?' Joel Brand asked truculently as he entered the room.
    'We need to talk,' Moloch said in a quiet mild tone. 'Do please take a seat.'
    He observed his visitor through gold-rimmed spectacles, missing nothing. Brand's shaggy dark hair was ruffled, he wore an open-necked T-shirt, its half-sleeves exposing thick hairy arms, blue denims and boots with metal studs in the toecaps. He sat back in the carver and waited.
    'How did that woman come to be aboard the Venetia ?' Moloch asked quietly.
    'Must have stowed away while the ship was in Monterey harbour. She appeared with a bag of clothes when we were leaving the Panama Canal, heading out into the Caribbean bound for here.'
    'So what happened next?'
    'Nothing much while we were at sea. What did you expect was going to happen?'
    Brand's manner was resentful, as though he disliked being interrogated. Moloch's tone remained mild, his intelligent face showing no reaction as he spoke again.
    'Joel, when I ask a question I do not expect to have another question as a reply. Give me details.'
    'She was given a cabin. I wasn't sure how to handle her. Then she appears in the dining room, a real sexy chick and dressed up to the nines. She was very pleasant, joked with me and the others a lot. I couldn't make