Rain on the Dead. Jack Higgins
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work, Sean, you’ve stirred the pot there,’ Roper said.
‘Excellent, Dillon, you really put the boot in,’ Ferguson told him. ‘I would judge he’s in a state of total shock, but we must strike while he’s still off balance, give him time to get really worried, then we’ll take the Gulfstream to Ireland and descend on him.’
‘On them, sir,’ Sara said. ‘I thought the young girl was pretty feisty. I liked the sound of her.’
‘Well, just remember she might be the enemy, Captain, but I’m for bed. It’s been a rough old week.’
‘Tomorrow is always another day,’ Sara said. ‘Hang on to that thought.’ They filed out, leaving Roper to doze in his wheelchair, his screens still on.
Half past midnight, Hannah sat on a stool in Fancy’s stall in the stud stable at Drumgoole, a horse blanket over her shoulders, the mare content with an occasional glance at her. It had been a refuge during four years of pain from the car bomb – the dim lights, the stable smell of fourteen horses, always had a deeply calming effect. She leaned back and closed her eyes, allowing her rage to ebb away, heard the door open at the other end of the stables, then voices.
Kelly said, ‘What happens now?’
‘You’re forgetting he presented us with one of his coded mobile phones.’ Tod’s smile was mirthless. ‘I’m going to call him right now.’
‘At this time in the morning?’
‘He boasts that he can operate from anywhere, doesn’t he? Let’s see if he does.’
Kelly laughed harshly. ‘Put it on speaker, I don’t want to lose a word.’
A couple of minutes, no more, and then the voice echoed, calm and full of authority. ‘Say who you are.’
Tod told him. ‘So we can cut the crap.’
‘Why, Mr Flynn, you’re angry,’ the Master replied. ‘An emotion that leads to stupidity, and that’s not to be recommended in our line of work. Is there a problem? If so, tell me.’
‘With pleasure,’ Tod said. ‘What would you say if I’d had a phone call from Sean Dillon a couple of hours ago, asking me if we’d enjoyed Nantucket? They know about you, Master-whoever-you-are, and the Al Qaeda connection – everything.’ There was a perceptible pause. ‘Are you there?’
‘Oh, I’m here, Mr Flynn, and considering what act of human stupidity has brought us to this situation.’
Kelly broke in, shouting, ‘Trying to find somebody to blame, are you?’
‘Because there usually is,’ the Master said calmly. ‘Do get your friend to shut up, Mr Flynn, then you provide me with a sane explanation and don’t leave anything out.’
Which Tod did, and when he was finished, said, ‘And that’s the truth of it, so what do you think?’
‘That it was just bad luck. It was pure chance that sent them to Cazalet’s house, and pure chance that Dillon made the connection to the two of you.’
‘One hell of a coincidence,’ Tod said.
‘Chance, Mr Flynn – life is, in many ways, ruled by it. Of course, sometimes it’s fate. It wasn’t by chance that your father was Sean Dillon’s uncle. There’s something almost karmic about it.’
Kelly intervened again. ‘We’ve no time for all this shite. What do we do when Ferguson and his crew turn up here?’
‘Wrong question,’ the Master told him. ‘It should be, What can they do? There’s no evidence the attack even took place, and Cazalet’s walking around as if nothing had happened. So what can they do to you? It’s rather amusing when you think of it, Ferguson couldn’t even get you arrested.’ Somewhere in his background was an unmistakable sound.
At that, Hannah erupted from Fancy’s stall and took a few steps toward them, leaning heavily on her walking stick.
‘There’s nothing amusing about it, because I’ve heard everything.’
Kelly tried to grab her, and she slashed the walking stick across his shoulders. Tod dropped the phone on the table and caught her as she tried to get past him to the door.
‘It’s all right, Hannah love, I’ll handle it.’
‘It’s not and you won’t.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know who this Master of yours is, Uncle Tod, but I’ve heard enough to recognize an evil bastard when I hear one.’ She raised her voice. ‘A bastard who lives in London! You should keep your window closed. Everybody knows the sound of Big Ben.’
She pulled away from him and returned to the other end of the stable, leaning heavily on her stick, and disappeared into Fancy’s stall. Kelly watched her go, then picked up the mobile and handed it over.
‘Are you still there?’ Tod asked.
The Master replied calmly, ‘Do we have a problem with your niece?’
‘No, I promise you. Since the car bomb that took her parents four years ago, pain has been her constant companion. She’s stressed about it, and now this. I’ll take care of it.’
‘Such sentimentality comes rather late in the day from a man who has been responsible for as many deaths as you have. But it’s understandable, considering there are those who think the bomb which killed her parents and crippled her was meant for you.’
Tod said gravely, ‘There was always that possibility.’
‘Not in this case, Mr Flynn. In fact, I know the names of the two men who set that bomb.’
Tod was very still. ‘And what must I do for those names?’
‘Dillon told you he’d be coming within the next few days. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Gideon woman and possibly even Ferguson himself came with him. Those people have been a running sore in Al Qaeda’s side for long enough. I’m sure a man of your expertise, and Kelly’s, can find a way to dispose of them one way or another.’
Kelly shook his head. ‘The man’s crazed, Tod.’
‘Not at all,’ the Master said. ‘I happen to know that at the back of Drumgoole Place, at the foot of the mountain, is a bog – the Bog of Salam, isn’t that what they call it? According to legend, it could swallow a regiment.’
‘And it could swallow you,’ Kelly told him.
‘Or Hannah Flynn. I trust we’re clear on that. Now, Ferguson and company, can I tempt you?’
Tod’s face was bone white, eyes dark. ‘Not in a million years. But I’ll tell you what I will do. Never leave Hannah’s side for a moment, as long as you walk this earth. And I’m keeping your money. So to hell with you, Master-whoever-you-are, and bring it on as soon as you like.’
He switched off, slipped the phone into his pocket, turned and found Hannah, standing outside Fancy’s stall, face tear-stained. He walked toward her, passing Kelly, who simply smiled grimly and nodded.
She managed a smile. ‘That was telling him.’
He put an arm round her. ‘You know what I’ve been, girl, the terrible things I did. My excuse was that I was fighting for a cause. True or not, it made a bad man out of me, but as far as this bastard is concerned, I’ll be his worst nightmare.’
She nodded, then hugged him suddenly so that she dropped her stick. ‘Dammit to hell,’ she moaned, and tried to bend.
He picked it up and gave it to her. ‘A nice Catholic girl and such language. Come on, child, we’ll find Aunt Meg and see you both to bed. Things will look better in the morning.’
Not that he believed it, not