There was silence. The Rector said, 'We are here to celebrate the lives of two young men. George and Michael are Rashids but also Daunceys, a bloodline linked to our village that has borne that name since the fifteenth century.' The service began.
Later, it rained as the coffins were taken to the family mausoleum. The congregation followed, one undertaker carrying a huge black umbrella over Rashid and Kate. Baxter had parked the Jaguar by the churchyard gate. Billy ran down to him and came back with a brolly.
'Jesus, I've never seen so many umbrellas.' 'It's life imitating art. I could do with a cigarette and a large Bushmills, in that order.'
'So we're going to this buffet at the pub?'
'Why not? In for a penny, in for a pound.'
He turned and walked away, and Billy followed.
At the Jaguar, Joe Baxter got out, and Dillon said, 'We'll walk. You wait by the green, Joe.'
Baxter glanced at Billy, who said, 'What he says goes, just do it.'
'As you say, Billy.'
He got in and drove away as Dillon lit a cigarette. Billy said, 'We're not tooled up yet.'
'There's time for that, Billy, plenty of time. Let's take a walk.' And they moved down towards the green, Billy holding the umbrella over them.
In London, Harry Salter called Sam Hall but had difficulty in contacting him. A young woman secretary informed him that Sam was taking care of a consignment down the river. In truth, Sam was well and truly keeping his head down.
Harry, totally frustrated, told Dora to arrange his car and a driver and got dressed. She had to help him because his shoulder wound needed its sling. As she finished, the matron looked in.
'Are you discharging yourself, Mr Salter?'
'No, I'm just going home. I'll come back any time you want for my check-up.'
'Well, Professor Bernstein's here at the moment, having a look at General Ferguson, but I don't think for long.'
'You mean Ferguson's here?'
'Certainly.'
'You show me where.'
A little while later, he sat in a reception area, turning. A door opened and Ferguson emerged, followed by Arnold Bernstein, briefcase in hand.
'Why, Harry,' Ferguson said.
'Don't Harry me, you old sod.'
Bernstein said, 'I can't remember telling you you could get out of bed, Mr Salter.' "Well, I'm out and I'm going. I'll sign anything you want, only I need a word with his Highness here.' "Oh dear, trouble?' Bernstein sighed. 'I'm going to see my daughter. I'll be back shortly, and I urge you to seek my advice. You need the correct medication at least.'
He walked away and Harry turned on Ferguson. 'What a bastard you are, having Dillon banged up.'
Ferguson said, 'What in the hell are you talking about?'
'Billy told me last night. You had Special Branch lift him, using the old IRA record you were supposed to wipe clean, and banged him up at West End Central to stop him going to the Dauncey funerals and confronting Rashid.'
Ferguson said, 'I ordered Dillon not to go. He wouldn't listen. You say Billy told you this?'
'Yes.'
'Where is he? Phone him now.'
'Well, he's unavailable. A job in Southampton.' A look of horror appeared on his face. 'Oh, God, he lied to me. Dillon's gone down there.'
'And I think you'll find Billy has gone, too, to watch his back. It's the only likely explanation for his absence.'
'I knew he wanted to go and I said I'd go, too.'
'Well, that explains a lot. You've been damaged enough. He wanted to keep you out of it. You see, a face-to-face confrontation with Rashid will probably be like a spaghetti Western.'
'And you're letting this happen? You're worse than me.'
Ferguson said, 'Because of our connection over the last few years, I've really had you checked out. In your days of Empire as one of the most important Guvnors I believe that's the phrase you fought off the Corelli brothers, three of them, who totally disappeared. Then there was Jack Hedley, the one called Mad Jack. Found in an alley off Brewer Street. I could remind you of a few more.' "All right,' Harry said. 'That was business. It was only ever that with me. I never did whores, never did drugs.'
I know, Harry, you just killed people who got in your way. I do the same thing or have it done. There's always a good reason. It's my job, Harry, it's business.' "So what are you getting at?'
I've had enough of Rashid. I don't need to go into it. You know what he's been responsible for. His two brothers have gone down, thanks to Dillon. Bell and his cronies are out of it. That only leaves Rashid, and he's got to go, too.' "But you didn't want Dillon to go down to that funeral and face Rashid's challenge.'
'So I'm a liar, Harry. I pushed Dillon a little, but I knew he'd go, and if he finishes Rashid in the right way, it suits me. You see, Dillon is a remarkable man not just because of his many gifts and his good brain and the fact that he can kill without it giving him a problem.'
'So what have you left out?' 'He couldn't care less whether he lives or dies.' 'That's good, that's very comforting, and my nephew's going the same way?'
'Your nephew was, to use London underworld parlance, a right villain. His involvement with Dillon over the past few years has given him a sense of himself. He actually has quite a brain on him.' 'All right, so I know that, but what do we do?' Ferguson glanced at his watch. 'The funeral service started at eleven thirty. There's a buffet afterwards at the Dauncey Arms, mainly for villagers. As it's now twelve thirty, I don't think there's much we can do except rely on Dillon.' 'And Billy?' 'Of course Billy.'
Bernstein came back. 'So, you're still leaving, Mr Salter?'
'I have to,' Harry said.
'All right. Come to the reception desk and I'll arrange the right antibiotics, but I insist on seeing both of you tomorrow at my rooms in Harley Street at ten o'clock. I'll sort you out then.'
People ate and drank champagne at the Dauncey Arms, Betty Moody supervising everything tirelessly. Dillon and Billy joined in, had some salad, smoked salmon, new potatoes. Billy, as usual, only drank water. Dillon tried the champagne and rejected it as reasonably inferior.
A young woman leaned over the bar. 'Are you Mr Dillon?'
'That's right, my love.'
'This champagne is just for you.' She held it up. 'Cristal.'
'The best,' Dillon said. 'Now who would do a thing like that?'
'Why, the Earl, sir.'
As she removed the cork, Dillon looked round the room. There was no sign of Rashid. The girl poured, offered Billy one and he waved it away.
'The Earl doesn't seem to be here.' Dillon emptied the glass in a single swallow.
The girl looked bewildered. 'That's strange, sir. He was at the fireplace with Lady Kate.'
'Did he say anything else?'
'Oh, yes, he said if you'd call in, he'd buy you the other half.'
'Well, that's nice of him.'
'Another glass, sir?'
'No, thanks. I'll have a large Bushmills whiskey. It could be my last. No water.'
She gave it to him. Betty Moody moved in from the back kitchen. Her face was swollen with weeping. Dillon raised his glass.
'A terrible day for you, Mrs Moody.'
'For all of us.'
He said, 'L'chaim' and swallowed the Bushmills down.
'L'chaim? What's that?'
'A Hebrew toast. It means "to life".' He put down his glass and turned to Billy. 'We must go,' and led the way out.
Dauncey Place was quiet when Rashid and his sister went in through the massive door and entered the Great Hall. As he had arranged, there was no staff: it was theirs alone. The logs burned in the fireplace, and on the centre table was an ice bucket with a bottle of Bollinger and four glasses. He helped her off with her raincoat and moved to open the champagne bottle.
'Why four glasses?' she asked. 'Two for Dillon and Billy Salter.' He poured. 'They'll come and I'm a gracious host, both as a Rashid and a Dauncey.' He gave her a glass and raised his own. 'To us, little sister, and George and Michael, and to Dillon.'
She drank a little. 'You don't hate him.' It was a statement, not a question.
He shrugged. 'Kate, our father was a soldier and took a soldier's risks. Sean Dillon is a soldier, I am still a soldier, George took a soldier's risks in Hazar, Michael at Wapping. Each time, Dillon took the same risks.' 'You really think that?'
'Of course.' He raised his glass. 'To Sean Dillon from Paul Rashid, one brave man to another.' She said, 'Do you want to do this, brother?' He refilled his glass. 'My darling girl, I've done everything in my time, put my life on the line, made incredible riches, but at the end of the day how much money can you spend?' "So what's important?'
' I suspect Dillon would say the game.' 'And that's how you see it?'
He swallowed his champagne and laughed out loud. 'Oh, yes, Kate, the only game in town.'
The fire crackled, it was very quiet. She looked around the Great Hall. 'All we have ever been as Daunceys.'
'All our yesterdays is the phrase.'
'So what happens now?'
'Dillon will come with Billy Salter.'
'And what do you do?'
'Face him, Kate, a far more interesting prospect than making another billion.'
There was a long pause, and she sighed. 'You haven't answered, Paul.'
By the champagne bucket, there were two small transceivers. He picked one up. 'These are very simple things. Press the red button and you're in touch with me.'
'But why?'
He smiled. 'I'll explain, but first you must have a final glass with me.'
'I don't like that. It's as if you're saying goodbye.'
'Never, my darling. We'll always be together, always.'
Dillon and Billy found Baxter, drove up to Dauncey Place in the Jaguar and pulled into the stable yard. They got out, Baxter opened the boot and Dillon unzipped the weaponry bag. He took out two Walthers, put one in his belt at the rear, and gave the other to Billy.
"Is this it?' Billy asked.
'No.' Dillon took out two Parker-Hales. 'Just like Rama.' He put one in the left-hand pocket of his coat.
'So how do we do it?' Billy asked. 'Unless he's brought reinforcements, he's in there with his sister, but I'd discount her.' 'How do you know?' "Just a feeling.'
'So we knock on the front door?' Maybe it's open. Let's see. You come with us, Joe, and bring your Browning.'
The three of them went up the steps of the great pillared doorway. Dillon tried the ornate handle, the ring in the lion's mouth. The door opened a couple of inches and he closed it.
'Too obvious an invitation. Let's try the terrace.' Exactly as Rashid had anticipated. They moved along the series of french windows that fronted the library. One of them stood open.
'So, he's giving us a chance.'
Inside, between ornate curtains, was a book cupboard, the kind of thing usually concealed and painted in seventeenth-century Italian style. It stood slightly open, Kate inside.