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3 MAGMA
Halloran stopped for a moment to gaze up at the twenty…four storey building。 Impressive； he thought； and impressive it was； rearing up between staid； grey City blocks like a massive glass and bronze sculpture； tinted windows impenetrably black； its metal structure reflecting the morning sun so that multi…faceted surfaces glowed a deep gold。 Exterior elevators slid up and down the smooth walls； pale faces staring out from the capsules； watching the human patterns moving below。 All corners …and there were many …were gracefully curved； the outermost buttresses adding a fort…like strength to the architecture； an image abetted by the different levels of the main building； some recessed； others outcropping。
Magma's headquarters was not a place to be easily stormed； Halloran mused。 Yet for all its stunning grandeur； emphasised by the mostly uninspiring drabness of London's financial sector； there was something 。 。 。 something brooding about this edifice。 Its surfaces dazzled a metallic lustre which seemed almost overpowering； too forceful for the surroundings。
He stood there a while longer； studying the Magma building； oblivious to the office workers scurrying around him； before crossing the road and going inside； to leave the crisp coldness of the early…spring air for the sterile coolness of the air…conditioned foyer。
Mather was already waiting for him； seated in the middle of a row of beige lounge chairs and facing a huge circular reception desk。 Men in light…blue； epauletted shirts roamed inside the circle； banks of television monitors behind them； monochrome offices and corridors displayed on the screens。 Other screens were imbedded in square pillars around the vast concourse； these providing a variety of information for anyone passing through： foreign exchange rates； the general market report； pany news； active shares； leading shares； traded options； USM； new issues index and even BBC news headlines。
The area bustled with life。 Escalators carried visitors and staff up to and down from the floor above； while lifts around the glass walls took passengers to the heights。 Digital payphones were mounted on low tables set before the rows of lounge chairs； therefor the convenience of waiting businessmen。 Lush palms and plants together with kinetic sculptures constructed from the same material as the outside walls； strove to de…formalise the concourse； succeeding only in part。 Long glass display cases contained examples of rock strata； while others held samples of ore and minerals； crystals； even semi…precious stones； all exhibits of the earth's contribution towards the Magma empire。
Halloran noticed several informal meetings taking place around the floor； discussions conducted sotto voce； the undertones adding to the plex's general buzz。 Who'd need an office with a set…up like this？ he wondered。 Maybe the roving security guards who were very much in evidence were also there to discourage non…pany personnel from such practices。
A marble…cladded wall； the large rectangular slabs needing no other decoration than their own subtle…hued textures； brought the wide reception area to an end； several doors and a central lift system （obviously provided for those whose vertigo somewhat reduced the joy of viewing the City panorama while rising above it） spaced themselves along the wall。
Mather had spotted him and was rising from his seat； one hand pushing against his cane for support。 Halloran went forward to meet him。
'Rather splendid； isn't it？' said Mather as they drew near。
'Even better than Changi airport；' Halloran replied〃 shaking the Planner's hand。
'Good to see you； Liam。 Sorry about the Irish operation。' Halloran nodded； said nothing。
'Let's check in and get our instructions；' suggested Mather； turning away and limping towards the circular reception desk。 Halloran followed； still taking in the scene around him。
A receptionist watched their approach and； when they reached him； said with no curiosity at all： 'Can I help you？'
'Mather and Halloran to see Sir Victor Penlock。 Ten o'clock appointment。' If the uniformed receptionist was impressed that they were there for a meeting with the Corporation's chairman he gave no indication。
'pany？' he enquired； 'I think you'll find that information isn't necessary；' Mather told him。
The receptionist； a youngish man with spectacles and a distinct lack of charm； sat at his desk and tapped puter keys。 Green lines of type reflected in his glasses and soon he appeared satisfied； although there was no noticeable change in his demeanour。
'You'll need ID tags；' he told them and punched more keys on a machine concealed from view beneath the counter。 When his hand appeared once more it was holding two yellow strips with Mather and Halloran's names typed individually in capitals on each。 He slipped them into plastic clips and passed them over。
'Attach these to your lapels； please。 You need to go up to the eighteenth。 You can take the scenic route to twelve； then transfer to an interior lift for the rest of the way。 Or if you prefer； you can take the interior express straight up to the eighteenth。' He pointed at the lifts beyond the reception circle。
'I rather fancy the scenic route；' said Mather brightly。 'What d'you say； Liam？' Halloran smiled as he clipped on his name tag。 'Fine by me。' They crossed the busy floor to one of the capsule elevators； Mather chattering like a child looking forward to a funfair ride。 They saw one of the lifts discharging its load and headed towards it； Mather quickly pressing the 12 button once they were inside so that they would be alone。
The older man's mood became serious； although he peered through the thick glass； looking for familiar landmarks as the lift rose above the streets。
'What went wrong； Liam？' he asked。
Halloran； too； watched the shrinking streets； the broadening view。 'My guess is that our client died at the time of kidnap or soon after。 We already knew from his pany's medical report he had a weak heart。 He'd suffered a minor heart attack two years before。'
'But you didn't know he was dead before you went in with the money。' Halloran shook his head。 The Thames was ing into view； its surface silver in the bright sunshine。 To the west was St Paul's； to the east； the Tower of London； other landmarks； grey in the distance； were beginning to appear。 'I had the notion。 They would never let me speak to him on the phone； told me I had to take their word for it that he was in good shape。 There was little choice。' Thugs。' said Mather。 'Murdering IRA thugs。'
'They consider themselves to be at war。'
'Kidnap and murder？ Indiscriminate bombings？
'There's never been a normal one。' The older man glanced at Halloran。 'I know you too well to imagine you have any truck with the IRA。' Halloran watched a dragonfly helicopter inching its way along the river； keeping strictly to its assigned route where an air accident could cause the least damage； heading for the Battersea heliport。
'I read your report；' Mather said to break the silence。 'Why the Heckler and Koch？ An Ingram is more pact； easier to conceal。'
'Our own man had to examine the client…I needed accuracy so that he wouldn't get hit。 And I didn't know how many I'd be up against； so I had to have the choice of switching to automatic。 It was a pity for them their victim wasn't a well man…their organisation could have been a lot richer。'
'And a pity his pany didn't call us in earlier as more than just negotiators。 He might not have been abducted in the first place under our protection。' Mather shook his head with regret。 Then： 'At least publicity was avoided。' Halloran smiled grimly。 The last thing Achilles' Shield wanted was attention from the media； always preferring to remain anonymous； not only in name but in role also。 Too many Members of Parliament were fighting to introduce a Bill banning K & R organisations such as Shield； condemning them as an inducement to kidnap rather than a deterrent。 He had removed their client's corpse from the scene of the shooting； leaving it by the roadside in another county to be discovered by others。 Because of that； the two incidents hadn't been connected…at least； not by the public。 The authorities on both sides of the border who had cooperated with Shield before on similar K & R operations； had turned a blind eye （although the Garda naturally hadn't been happy about the killings on their territory）。
'Here we are；' Mather said as the elevator glided to a smooth halt。 The doors sighed open and the two men stepped out。
They found themselves in another reception area； although this was far less impressive than that on ground…level； and much quieter。 Through the windows to their right they could see a wide； open terrace； white tables and chairs placed all around； the building itself recessed here to provide a spectacular viewing platform over the southern half of London。 It was empty of observers at the moment； the sun too feeble to take the chill from the breeze at that altitude。
A few people sat inside； though； waiting in the beige loungers； while Magma staff wandered through； some carrying documents； others collecting the visitors and leading them off to second…stage lifts or into corridors branching from the lobby。
The desk on this level was set into the wall and stationed by only two blue…uniformed men。 A girl was standing by the counter talking to one of them。 On seeing Mather and Halloran emerge from the lift she broke off conversation and hurried over。
'Mr Charles Mather？' she asked； smiling engagingly。
The older man raised a hand。 'And this is Mr Halloran；' he said indicating。
'I'm Cora Redmile。 Sir Victor sent me down to fetch you。' She shook hands with both men。
She was slender； dark…haired； her eyes a muddy brown flecked with green。 Mid or late…twenties； Halloran guessed。 Her smile was mischievous as she looked at him。
'I hope you enjoyed the journey up；' she said。 'Some visitors are quite unsettled by the time they reach the twelfth。' Halloran only smiled back； and for a moment； uncertainty flashed in her eyes。
'Absolutely splendid； m'dear；' Mather answered。 'Marvellously clear day for spying the landscape。 You should make people buy tickets。' The girl gave a short laugh。 'pliments of Magma。 If you e with me I'll take you to the eighteenth。 Mr Quinn…Reece is waiting with Sir Victor。'
'Up to the eyrie。 Splendid。' Still smiling； the girl turned away and they followed her to the row of interior lifts。
Inside and on their way； Mather said： 'You'd be Sir Victor's personal secretary； I take it。'
'No； not Sir Victor's；' she replied； and made no further ment。
'Ah；' murmured Mather； as if satisfied。
Halloran leaned back against the wall； feeling the slight headiness of blood pressured by high speed。 He caught the girl looking at him and she quickly averted her gaze。
'My goodness；' said Mather。 'We're fairly shifting； aren't we？'
'I can slow us down if you prefer；' Cora told him； anxiously reaching for a button on the console。
'Not at all。 I'm rather enjoying the experience。' She smiled at Mather's glee； her hand dropping back to her side。 Once again； her gaze strayed to Halloran。 In his dark tweed jacket； with its leather elbow patches； his check shirt and loose…knitted tie； he should have resembled a country squire； only he didn't。 Far from it。 And there was something about his eyes 。 。 。 lie looked like a man who could be cruel。 Yet there was a quiet gentleness about him too。 Cora was puzzled。 And interested。
…How many security men does the building have？' Halloran's question took her by surprise。 There was a softness to his voice also； the slightest trace of an accent。 West Country？ No； Irish。 With a name like Halloran it had to be。
'Oh； I think Sir Victor has all those details ready for you；' she answered quickly； realising she had been lost for a moment。
He looked at her steadily。 'You know why we're here？' Now she wasn't sure if there was an accent at all。 'Yes。 I'll be assisting you。' Mather raised his eyebrows at Halloran。
A small ping as the elevator came to a halt。 The doors drew back like stage curtains to reveal a sumptuous lobby；