Midnight Runner - Jack Higgins [71]
"Taking the Gulfstream?" Roper asked.
"No, I'll fly myself on this one."
Roper looked at him questioningly.
"I'll explain later, old son. Let's go, Daniel."
Back in the Mercedes, Dillon said, "There's an aero club at Brancaster out in Kent. They have a nice Beechcraft there."
"Will we have any problems?"
"No. I still have top security clearance."
"Even though Ferguson has disowned you?"
"Don't worry about Ferguson. He's playing silly buggers. Noninvolvement simply means deniability for him. He still wants the results."
"You're sure of that?"
"Absolutely. Now let's go book that Beechcraft."
T here was no problem with the plane except that the available slot was after lunch the following day, later than Dillon had wanted. They had something to eat in a roadside cafe on the way back, and Luke took him to Stable Mews.
Dillon went into the kitchen, poured a Bushmills, and sat at the table. Everything was in motion now, he could feel it. He didn't know exactly what Rashid was up to, but the time for waiting was over, and that felt good. Only one thing bothered him. After all, Ireland was Ireland. If things got out of hand, would Quinn be able to do what was necessary? Could he pull the trigger without question? He'd handled himself well so far, but killing a man was different from beating up a couple of thugs.
Dillon sighed. He needed somebody to protect his back and that meant only one person.
He drove to Park Place, and when Quinn answered the door, he said, "I've got to see some friends of mine. Come on, it'll complete your education."
They drove down to Wapping and parked outside the Dark Man. Dora was behind the bar, polishing glasses. There was no sign of Harry or Billy.
"They're down on the boat," she said.
Dillon led the way along the wharf and it started to rain a little. "Amongst other enterprises, Harry has a few riverboats. He's had one of the smaller ones, the Lynda Jones, refurbished. It's his pride and joy. Wait till you see."
There was a desolate air to the river at this point, which was strangely attractive: some decaying boats, two half-sunken barges. The Lynda Jones was at the end and reached by a gangway. Baxter and Hall were varnishing on the prow, Harry and Billy sat at a table under the stern awning, reading: Harry, a newspaper and Billy, a book.
"Philosophy, Billy?"
They both looked up and Harry said, "Well, look what the cat dragged in."
"Harry, Billy, I'd like you to meet a friend, Senator Daniel Quinn."
Harry frowned, then got up and held out his hand. "We know all about you, Senator, sit down." He turned to Dillon. "I assume this isn't a social visit, Dillon. What's up?"
"In a minute, Harry. First--Billy, why don't you show me that new paneling you've put in the saloon?"
They left Harry and Quinn at the table, and Billy led the way in. Dillon closed the door and Billy turned. "What is it?"
"Kate Rashid's going to, and I'm following her. Quinn's coming with me because he's hell-bent on some sort of revenge for what happened to his daughter. But here's the thing. He was a great war hero in Vietnam, but that was a long time ago. A lot of people over there know me, Billy. I need someone to watch my back."
"Well, you've got him. I'm bored here, anyway. It's always a laugh a minute with you, Dillon, isn't it? Let's go and break the news to Harry."
When they told him, Harry's reaction was quick. "Maybe I should come, too."
"No need," Dillon said. "With luck, we'll be in and out of Drumcree in an hour or two."
"And hopefully find out what that bitch intends," Harry said.
"It must be something special," Dillon agreed.
"But if she sees you, the game's up, Dillon. Come to think of it, she's met the Senator, too."
"And Billy. So he and Quinn will just have to make sure she doesn't see them. It's different for me. Watch."
He went into the saloon and closed the door. When it opened again, he shuffled out, head slightly to one side, his left arm stiff, shoulder down. The face seemed twisted, the entire body language had changed.
Harry recoiled in his chair.