Okay, we were. We know Dillon from way back in the Troubles. Nobody messes with him, hes a killing machine and the Gideon woman is the same. If we had tried to find them, wed be lying dead next to the Chechens.
Nevertheless, that was your charge. You owe me a quarter of a million dollars.
Tod said, We didnt sign up for any of this. You lied about everything. It wasnt our fault that things turned out the way they did.
Dont think you can shirk your responsibility. Everybody is accountable. But you can keep the money.
Tod was astonished. What do you mean?
You and Kelly are men of a mercenary persuasion, as the song goes. Go home to Drumgoole, to your horses and the stud and your aunt Meg she runs things there, correct? Oh, and youll be losing your niece Hannah; she just heard yesterday that shes been accepted by the Royal College of Music in London.
Damn you, how do you know all this?
I know everything, Tod, I thought you knew that. I just want to make sure you realize that there is nowhere that you and yours can go that I cant touch. Now, I have tickets waiting for you at the airport. When you get home, shave off the beards and it will be as if you never left Ireland, and Im sure youll have plenty of friends to swear you never did. Good luck and try to stay sober. Ill be in touch soon, and this time you are going to earn the money you have from me.
He faded away, the Dolphin plowed on, rain bouncing off the screen. Kelly said, Is he for real?
Oh, yes, and a barrel of laughs, too. I admire his fine turn of phrase.
Well, hes going to want something for his quarter of a million bucks, God knows what. Here, you take the helm. Im going below to try to get a little shut-eye.
Sara Gideon lay in bed in a dressing gown, unable to sleep. Outside, the wind howled, rain rattled against the window. There was a knock at the door, which opened and Dillon peered in. Whats happening? she asked.
Ferguson and Cazalet are downstairs and theres an intermittent flow of information about the two people we knocked off. Theyre Chechen brothers, but American, brought into the country as refugees with their grandparents, who have since died. Shouldnt be long before we know everything about them.
Wouldnt be too sure about that.
Why?
It was all so wild, weird even. It was as if a piece of foolish nonsense came to an unlooked-for end.
Thats really quite literary, Dillon told her. Are you by chance regretting the fact that you had to kill that maniac?
Not at all, hed have finished us all off. Dammit, Sean, he got a shot off at you that just missed.
And you put the knife in to save my life, girl, Dillon said. So bless you for that.
Anything else happening?
Well, Fergusons spoken to Roper in London, and Im sure hes been put to work. You can feel free to contact him on your mobile if you want.
In the Holland Park safe house in London, Major Giles Roper sat in his wheelchair in the computer room, wearing a dressing gown, a towel about his neck, his bomb-ravaged face shining with sweat. He was smoking a cigarette and drinking a glass of whiskey when Sara called.
My goodness, love, so youve been playing executioner again?
No choice, Giles, not this time. Sean was his usual deadly self. She shivered. Seconds, Giles, just seconds. It could have turned out so badly for all of us.
Well, it didnt, and thats all that counts.
So who do you think was behind them? Youre the best that I know at squeezing answers out of cyberspace.
I have to agree with you, but these things take time. Besides, you have to remember that what happened tonight in Nantucket didnt happen. Nobody heard a thing, nobody saw a thing. And if nothing happened, then no one can claim responsibility. Im certainly not going to go online saying theres a rumour that there was an assassination attempt on former President Jake Cazalet. Then everyone would know and all the wrong sort of people would claim responsibility.
So what can you do?
Just wait and watch, see if anything unusual pops out. You never know. Anyway, get some sleep. Ill see you when you get back.
Dalton had reluctantly gone to sleep on a couch in the sitting room, and Cazalet and Ferguson sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee and turning things over between them.
Im almost flattered that someone feels Im worth being a target, Cazalet said.
Nonsense, you were a great President. Your death would have made headlines around the world.
Maybe, Cazalet admitted grudgingly. Anyway, there was one matter I was asked to raise with you before you leave.
Whats that?
Colonel Declan Rashid. He was an enormous help in the Husseini business, so disgusted at the way Husseini was treated by the Iranian government that he deserted their army and supported your people in everything.
And took a couple of bullets in the back doing it. Hes agreed to work for us when fit again, Ferguson added.
Well, apparently the CIA would like to talk with him. Theyre really quite keen on it, though I expect I know your answer. I told them Id pass it along, but wouldnt promise anything.
And you were right. You know Rashids history. He was a paratrooper at sixteen and, during Irans war with Saddam Hussein, made his first jump into action without training. Over the years, he has been wounded many times, and now his doctors, including our own Professor Bellamy, say enough is enough. He needs time to recuperate. The CIA will just have to retire gracefully from the conflict.
Cazalet laughed out loud. Thatll be the day. Anyway, let me just check my office messages. Ive given Mrs Boulder the morning off, so when it comes to breakfast, well all have to pitch in.
He went out. Ferguson boiled the kettle, made tea, and Dillon entered. You look fit, the general said.
Didnt sleep worth a damn, but I dry-shaved and had a cold shower. I could kill for a cup of tea.
Help yourself, Ferguson told him. Cazalet came in. Your helicopter arrives at eleven. Also, photos of the Chechens have just come through. The machines pumped out some extra copies.
Goodness me, Ferguson said. They look like any young convicts from about a century ago.
Dillon helped himself, took one of the sheets and slipped it in a pocket. Cazalet said, Right, whos for bacon and eggs?
Sounds good to me, Ferguson replied, but Dillon said, I think Id prefer a last walk on the beach, sir. I can get something down there.
So he left them to it, tiptoeing past Dalton still sleeping heavily on the couch and letting himself out on the drive, and was soon walking along the beach. Plenty of tourists were out already, for it was a particularly fine day.
He wandered through them, uncertain about what it was he was looking for. The Chechens fascinated him. Two real wild boys, and how had they got to Nantucket? Looking at the crowded harbour, he found a very possible answer. The sea, because thats what he would have done.
He went up on the jetty and started to walk along past people working on the decks of the boats, others diving into the harbour and swimming. A young man with a money satchel around his neck and a register in his hands was working his way along the line of boats. The name tag on his shirt said Henry.
Dillon said, Can you help me? Have you ever seen these guys?
He unfolded the sheet with both photos. Henry stopped smiling. What have they done, are you a cop?
I work for a security firm, Dillon said. Theyve been leaving unpaid bills all over the place.
Sure, Ive seen them. Yesterday evening, they were around here really high on something and drinking booze, and they had an argument with people on one of the boats. Went off making a hell of a row.
Show me the boat involved.
I saw it leave last night as it was getting dark, which was strange, because the mooring fee was paid until Friday. It was a sport-fisherman, a rental from Quogue. Two guys on board named Jackson and Hawkins. I brought them passports. Maybe theyre just cruising about out there.
I dont think so. Did you do any copying of their passport details, photos and so on?
No, that would be illegal. Anyway, the national agency just tells me either its okay or not okay.
Its just that Id been wondering whether you could use a fifty-dollar bill.
Henry smiled. Only if youd be happy with a picture I took of them on my phone. They were chatting on deck. He took the phone out of his pocket.
Why did you take it?
Because jazz and swing are my thing, and Mr Hawkins plays a great clarinet. He turned an old Irish folk song, The Lark in the Clear Air, into pure Gershwin, special enough to bring tears to the eyes. Thats him with the white beard.
The disguises, which in effect the bearded faces were, had succeeded brilliantly. Not for a moment had Dillon recognized them from the photo, but Henrys musical anecdote was unique. It related to the deepest and most poignant moment in Dillons life, which meant the man in the white beard was Tim Kelly and the other was probably Tod Flynn.
Does it ring any bells, sir?
Not really, it was a hell of a long time ago. Id like to have a copy of the photo anyway, if thats okay with you. Can you email it to me? Dillon held out the fifty and gave Henry his number.
Youre more than welcome, sir. Henry sent it and slipped the bill into his pocket. Have a nice day.
Dillon walked away, his mind in a turmoil, never so conflicted. It was obvious that he should tell Ferguson what he had discovered, but it was impossible to discuss why at the moment, and certainly not with Sara around. She served the Crown, wore the uniform. On the other hand, they were returning to Roper, the bomb-scarred hero trapped in his wheelchair. He nodded to himself. Roper would know what to do. He hurried along the beach.
At the end of the strand across from the house, a mobile beach concession had appeared, a sandwich and burger bar on wheels with canvas chairs and fold-up tables, most of which were taken. Dillon stopped and ordered tea and an egg sandwich, sitting close to the bar.
The woman sympathetic to the Cause whom the Master had mentioned to Flynn sat not too far away, keeping an eye on the situation over the road where the helicopter had just drifted in behind the house. Her name was Lily Shah, and she worked in the dispensary at the Army of God headquarters in London.
She was quite small, wore sandals, a Panama pushed down over fair hair, her blue linen shirt loose over khaki shorts. She removed her Ray-Bans to scratch her nose, revealing a calm, sweet face. She was forty-five and looked younger. On seeing Dillon, she replaced her Ray-Bans, took a sound enhancer from her shirt pocket, slipped it into her right ear, and adjusted it as Sara Gideon crossed the road.
Anything special happen while Ive been out? Dillon asked as he finished his tea.
Lily could hear perfectly as Sara answered. The President wants Cazalet safe. The black team from last night is coming in tomorrow to start doing all sorts of security things to the house. Since its been in the family since before the Civil War, Cazalet is not pleased. Even more, the staff have been suspended. Daltons going to hang on to hand over to the team, and Mrs Boulder keeps Murchison, bless her. And Im here to tell you to get a move on were boarding the helicopter in minutes.
They hurried across the road and entered the drive, cutting it very fine, for it seemed no more than five minutes later that the helicopter lifted above the trees and turned away, causing a certain excitement among the tourists.
Once things settled down, Lily wandered along the beach, turned across and down the side of the house, the marshy area with the reeds growing high. She stood looking at the place where the fencing gaped and, on impulse, scrambled through into the garden, and then ventured a little further cautiously to where the carnage had taken place.
The windows on the terrace slipped open and Dalton walked through, comfortable in shirtsleeves, a can of beer in one hand, and sat down on the swing chair. He opened the newspaper, and she pointed her right index finger at him, thumb raised, then smiled, eased back through the jungle of the garden, and left.
Walking back to town, barefoot at the seas edge, she phoned the Master and told him what happened. So Ferguson and company will be back to trouble you again very soon.
And trouble is the right word. Hes been a thorn in our side for much too long. Im sure he was responsible for the disappearance of General Ali ben Levi. We know that he flew in here, to Northolt, in pursuit of the traitor Declan Rashid. This is a fact.
Referring to Ali ben Levi as flying in here, to Northolt Airport had been an unfortunate slip, for his choice of words had indicated that the Master was speaking in London. Come to that, Lily was sure shed once heard Big Ben chiming in the background of one of his calls. Lily was intrigued, but concentrated on the matter at hand.
The Russians tried to eradicate Ferguson and his Prime Ministers private army some years ago. All they got was a bloody nose, she said.
Who told you that?
Dr Ali Saif, when he was head of education at the Army of God.
What a damn traitor he turned out to be. Another turncoat.
But not to Ferguson. As far as I know, MI5 claimed him. Perhaps he found it preferable to facing twenty-five years in Belmarsh under anti-terrorism laws, Lily said.
A traitor is a traitor. And as far as Ferguson goes, Ive received an order from the Grand Council. They want revenge for ben Levi. Nothing less than assassination. Bullet or bomb, Im open to either. He laughed. I suppose I could put it to Tod Flynn.
Lily was shocked at the implication. The political upheaval would be enormous.
And so it should be. That would be the point. That no one is safe, not even those working at the highest level for the Prime Minister himself, and theres a thought.
Lily tried to sound enthused, but managed only a muted I hear what you say.
Good. With luck, you should be back in London tomorrow. Give my sincere thanks to Hamid Bey for allowing you the few days leave to assist me as you have. He has been a revelation once he took over as imam. AQ acknowledges its debt.
Ill speak to him as soon as I get back. Is there anything more I can do for you?
Yes, Id like you to look up Tod Flynns niece at the Royal College of Music. She interests me. It seems that when she was fourteen, she lost her parents to a car bomb on a trip to Ulster and was crippled.
Dear God, Lily said, genuinely shocked.