The Doomsday Conspiracy by Sidney Sheldon

They finally reached 213A Grove Road. Robert dismissed the taxi and studied the building in front of him. It was an ugly two-story building that had been divided into small flats. Inside was the man who had a complete list of the witnesses Robert had been sent to find.

Leslie Mothershed was in the living room poring over his windfall when the doorbell rang. He looked up, startled, filled with a sudden inexplicable fear. The ring was repeated. Mothershed scooped up his precious photographs and hurried into the converted darkroom. He slipped the pictures into a pile of old prints, then walked back into the living room and opened the front door. He stared at the stranger who stood there.

“Yes?”

“Leslie Mothershed?”

“That’s right. What can I do for you?”

“May I come in?”

“I don’t know. What is this about?”

Robert pulled out a Defense Ministry identification card and flashed it. “I’m here on official business, Mr. Mothershed. We can either talk here or at the ministry.” It was a bluff. But he could see the sudden fear on the photographer’s face.

Leslie Mothershed swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but—come in.”

Robert entered the drab room. It was shabby-genteel, dreary, not a place where anyone would live by choice.

“Would you kindly explain what you’re doing here?” Mothershed put the proper note of innocent exasperation in his voice.

“I’m here to question you about some photographs you took.”

He knew it! He had known it from the moment he heard the bell. The bastards are going to try to take my fortune away from me. Well, I’m not going to let them do it. “What photographs are you talking about?”

Robert said patiently, “The ones you took at the site of the UFO crash.”

Mothershed stared at Robert a moment, as though caught by surprise, and then forced a laugh. “Oh, those! I wish I had them to give to you.”

“You did take those pictures?”

“I tried.”

“What do you mean…you tried?”

“The bloody things never came out.” Mothershed gave a nervous cough. “My camera fogged. That’s the second time that’s happened to me.” He was babbling now. “I even threw out the negatives. They were no good. It was a complete waste of film. And you know how expensive film is these days.”

He’s a bad liar, Robert thought. He’s on the edge of panic. Robert said sympathetically, “Too bad. Those photographs would have been very helpful.” He said nothing about the list of passengers. If Mothershed lied about the photographs, he would lie about the list. Robert glanced around. The photographs and the list had to be hidden here somewhere. They shouldn’t be difficult to find. The flat consisted of a small living room, a bedroom, a bathroom, and what looked like a door to a utility closet. There was no way he could force the man to hand over the material. He had no real authority. But he wanted those photographs and the list of witnesses before the SIS came and took them away. He needed that list for himself.

“Yes.” Mothershed sighed. “Those pictures would have been worth a fortune.”

“Tell me about the spaceship,” Robert said.

Mothershed gave an involuntary shudder. The eerie scene was fixed in his mind forever. “I’ll never forget it,” he said. “The ship seemed to—to pulsate, like it was alive. There was something evil about it. And then there were these two dead aliens inside.”

“Can you tell me anything about the passengers on the bus?”

Sure I can, Mothershed gloated to himself. I have all their names and addresses. “No, I’m afraid I can’t.” Mothershed went on, talking to conceal his nervousness. “The reason I can’t help you with the passengers is that I wasn’t on that bus. They were all strangers.”

“I see. Well, thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Mothershed. I appreciate it. Sorry about your pictures.”

“So am I,” Mothershed said. He watched the door close behind the stranger and thought happily, I’ve done it! I’ve outsmarted the sonsofbitches.

Outside in the hall, Robert was examining the lock on the door. A Chubb. And an old model. It would take him seconds to open it. He would start surveillance in the middle of the night and wait for the photographer to leave the flat in the morning. Once I have the list of passengers in my possession, the rest of the assignment will be simple.

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