South by South East Read Online Free PDF

it is essential that you tell me everything McGuffin told you.”
    “But he didn’t tell us anything,” I said.
    “That’s right,” Tim agreed. “He wanted to use a telephone but we haven’t got one. So he went out to use the one in the alley.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the laboratory. “He was lucky you hadn’t taken it before he got there.”
    “We took the call box
after
he was killed, Mr Diamond,” Waverly said. “McGuffin got through to this office. He told us where he was. Then he was shot. So we took the telephone box to search it for clues.”
    “Did you find any?” I asked.
    “Not yet. But he must have left something. McGuffin was a resourceful operative. He was secretive. A loner. But he’ll have done everything he can to get a message to us.”
    There was a pause.
    Tim and I glanced at each other. Waverly may have been hiding something, but we had to tell him everything we knew. After all, he was the head of MI6. And that meant he was on our side.
    “How about ‘south by south east’?” I said.
    “What?”
    “They were his last words,” Tim explained.
    “Just that? South by south east?” Waverly tapped the words into the computer then pressed the button that would send them hurtling into the data bank. The screen bleeped a few times. He pressed another button. “Nothing,” he muttered.
    Tim got to his feet. “Well, there’s nothing more we can do for you…” he began.
    “Please sit down, Mr Diamond!”
    There was a silence of about thirty seconds as he sat there, calculating. He had plans for us. I could see them forming – faster than the computer signals – in those soft, grey eyes. At last he stretched out a hand and pressed a button on his intercom.
    “Miss Jones,” he said. “Could you get a drink for our guests?” Then he turned back to us. “I have a proposition for you,” he said. “I want you to work for me. We have to find Charon and you can help.”
    “Now wait a minute…” Tim began.
    Waverly ignored him. “We’re running out of time, Mr Diamond. Boris Kusenov arrives in England in just a few days’ time. But we no longer have any leads. We have no connection with Charon.” He took a deep breath. “Except you.”
    “Me?” Tim squeaked.
    “Charon knows that McGuffin spoke to you before he died. When he discovers that you’re working for MI6, maybe he’ll get worried.”
    “How will he discover that?” I asked.
    “We’ll make sure he finds out.”
    I couldn’t believe it. I played back the sentence in my head and realized that was just what it was. A death sentence. We were going to be the bait in a trap for Charon. And if we got wiped out along the way, I don’t think Waverly would even send flowers to the funeral.
    Even Tim seemed to have come to the same conclusion. “You can’t do it!” he exclaimed. “I’m not a secret agent…”
    “You are now,” Waverly replied.
    The door opened and Miss Jones came in, carrying a tray. She was a short, dumpy woman with hair tied up in a bun – but I hardly noticed her. She had two glasses on the tray. They were filled with a green liquid that was almost luminous. Somehow I didn’t think it was apple juice.
    “I thought you might be thirsty,” Waverly said.
    “I was until she came in,” I replied.
    “Please drink…”
    It was a command, not an invitation, and I got the feeling that something nasty would happen to us if we refused. Mind you, I knew something nasty was going to happen to us anyway. We didn’t have much choice. I held up the glass.
    “Down the hatch,” Tim said.
    “Yeah. And into the coal cellar,” I added.
    We drank.
    The juice tasted sweet and minty – like mouthwash. I think I began to feel its effects even before it had reached my throat.
    “I can give you one piece of guidance in your task,” Waverly went on, but already his voice was in the next room. He seemed to be shrinking behind the desk, like we were looking at him through the wrong end of a