Cry of the Hunter - Jack Higgins [45]
Murphy nodded. They lowered the tailboard and pulled it up after them when they had clambered into the van. Anne Murray’s furniture only half-filled it and had been positioned well to the back. Sacking was plentifully draped over everything. Murphy went burrowing in amongst the stacked furniture and gave an exclamation of triumph. ‘In here, Mr. Fallon,’ he said. ‘We couldn’t be safer.’
Fallon ducked between the legs of a table and Murphy held up a flap of sacking, disclosing a small corner a few feet square, between a wardrobe and the side of the van. Murphy pulled a few more sacks in and Fallon nodded with satisfaction. ‘That’s fine. When we approach the road blocks we’ll cover ourselves with those.’
They sat down on the sacks and waited and about ten minutes later they heard the voices of the two men as they approached the van. They climbed up into the cab and a moment later the engine roared into life. Fallon crept out of the hiding place and peered over the edge of the tailboard. As they bumped across the square a green Hillman saloon turned out of the drive at the side of the house and moved after them. He smiled with satisfaction and crawled back underneath the table. ‘She’s on our tail,’ he said. ‘From now on all we can do is keep our fingers crossed.’
For five or six minutes the van moved at a steady rate through the traffic and then it started to slow. For a little while it was only crawling along and Fallon and the boy lay curled up in the small space and pulled the sacks over them.
Fallon had his ear to the side of the van. He heard a voice ask the driver where he was coming from. There was an indistinct reply and then there was the sound of steps going round to the back of the van. There was a scraping sound as someone heaved himself up and looked over the tailboard, and then he dropped back into the road with a clatter. The steps moved back to the cab and a second later the engine started up again, and the van moved off. For several minutes Fallon and the boy lay there under the sacks and then Murphy pulled them away and said in a low voice, ‘We’ve done it, Mr. Fallon. We’ve fooled the bloody peelers.’
Fallon grinned and held up a warning hand. ‘Yes, we’ve done it, but keep your voice down for God’s sake.’
They crawled out from underneath the table and Fallon lit a cigarette with a sigh of relief. He felt marvellous. It really looked as if they might get away with it. He crawled to the rear of the van and peered over the edge of the tailboard. They were rattling along through the rain at a steady speed between thorn hedges. The countryside stretched green and lush through the light mist on either side of them. It looked beautiful. There was only one thing missing, Anne Murray in her green Hillman saloon.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MURPHY crouched glumly by the tailboard looking back along the road. There wasn’t very much traffic. Occasionally a fast car overtook them, but there was no sign of the green Hillman. He glanced at his watch. They had been on the way for more than an hour. He turned to Fallon who sat on a sack, his back against a sideboard, and said, ‘There isn’t a sign of her, Mr. Fallon. What are we going to do?’
Fallon shrugged. ‘What can we do?’ He laughed at the crestfallen expression on the boy’s face and said, ‘I warned you this might happen. It could be anything. She might have taken a wrong turning, or punctured a tyre, or even run out of petrol, though I admit that isn’t very probable.’ He grinned and punched the boy in the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll see what happens in Stramore. We’ll drop off this thing at the first opportunity and go to Conroy’s place. We’ll pick Anne up tonight, never fear.’
Murphy seemed reassured and subsided on to the floor. Fallon moved across to the tailboard and lit a cigarette. As he smoked he looked back along the road. He was more anxious than he wanted Murphy to know. He was worried about Anne Murray personally and about what might have happened to delay her. His thoughts dwelt for a moment on road accidents and crashes and he pushed