Plender Read Free

rubber suit hung up in his wardrobe—in fact everything. Which gave me a great deal of pleasure. Especially as Froy didn’t suspect a dicky bird.
    But you had to give the old sod his due. He was bloody careful, whether he suspected anything or not. He kept himself well-covered. His superior had no worries on that score. He’d not been an easy man to tag. He never went direct from A to B. He never used names on the phone. He never sent or received mail to do with the Movement. He never met with any of the superiors, only with people at his own level, or beneath it. All of which meant that my efforts to find out the real power behind the Movement had so far come to nothing. But I would find out and when I did I’d have them over a barrel. The lot of them. They wouldn’t know which arse to disappear up first and I’d have a nice little organisation all of my own, instead of just maintaining the set-up for their benefit.
    Not that the set-up wasn’t sweet. It was. I was provided with this office, half a dozen full- time men in this city alone (plus the funds to call on as much muscle as I needed), all the latest equipment to run the business, agents under my direct control in every major city in England, plus permanent offices in Manchester and Birmingham, besides the one in London and the one here. No, it was fine and I’d access to a small private army. A lot to thank the Movement for.
    The day Froy had first turned up at my London office pretending he wanted to hire my services to recover a missing wife had been a very lucky day indeed. But that had been two years ago and I didn’t have to be grateful anymore. I had been given the power and I wanted to know where it came from. And when I had that knowledge I would be able to use it. To bargain. Their secrecy was their strength and their weakness. They’d have no choice when I presented them with what I was going to find out. They’d have to give me what I wanted—a seat on the executive. Whatever and wherever the executive was. With Froy working for me. A bigger army. More power. More independence. More political involvement. But in the meantime what I had would do. It really was very nice. The Movement had supplied me with the facilities to expand my previous operation in a way which wouldn’t have been possible before. As a Private Investigator I’d managed to build up extensive files on individuals who could afford to pay for discretion. But with the Movement employing me, among other things, to dig up the muck my little bit of private enterprise had expanded into big business. I could afford to be clever. Whereas most blackmailers were greedy and demanded too much too often, I had so many clients that individually their payments must have seemed to them to be quite reasonable, like, say, additional H.P. commitments. Of course if Froy ever found out about it I’d be finished. But he wasn’t likely to find out. Not in the near future, at any rate. And later, when I’d found out who I was working for, then it would be difficult for Froy to say anything at all without finding himself out on his ear.
    Wind buffeted the window and slapped rain against the glass. I looked at my watch. Quarter to six. Mrs. Fourness was expecting me back for supper. I’d give her a ring; there was hardly time to get there and back into town again. Besides, it was too nice here, where I was, cozy and snug behind the double-glazing.
    KNOTT
    The car jerked to a halt. Rain raced across the car park and rattled on the roof.
    “We’ll have to make a dash for it,” I said.
    “Can I borrow your scarf?” said Eileen. “I don’t want me hair getting all ruined.”
    “Yes, sure,” I said.
    I handed her the scarf.
    “Cost me two pound ten this little lot did,” she said, weaving the rayon round the rinse. “Shocking, they are, these days.”
    I nodded. Come on, come on.
    “If they get any dearer I may as well start going to Madame Greta’s. It’d still cost more but not enough