Midnight Runner - Jack Higgins [93]
"Let it alone now. I saw what you looked like, back there with Billy. I don't want any vigilante nonsense. There's no profit in it."
"You're talking in riddles, and me just a simple Irish boy." Dillon turned and called to Pound. "A Bushmills down here, Sergeant, so I can drink to the Devil Herself."
LONDON DAUNCEY PLACE
16
T HE Gulfstream LANDED AT FARLEY FIELD AT SEVEN IN the evening, London time, and found the Daimler waiting. Dillon and Ferguson said good-bye to Lacey and Parry and drove away.
Ferguson said, "Drop you home?"
"Yes, then I'd like to see Daniel Quinn."
"I'll meet you there, after I touch base with Hannah."
Dillon checked his watch. "Fine. Let's say nine o'clock?"
"Suits me."
He dropped Dillon and the Daimler drew away. The Irishman got the front door open. He'd noticed the Telecom van parked a little way up the street and found his Nightstalkers, went upstairs to his bedroom, and focused them on the windshield. Newton and Cook were clearly visible.
"Jesus," he said softly. "Don't they ever learn? You never give up, do you, Kate?"
A phone call had told her about the attack on Fuad and the plane's departure from Hazar and she'd given Dauncey his instructions. He listened to what she had to say.
"Are you sure about this? Don't you think it's better to let things calm down for a little while?"
"On the contrary. I killed Billy Salter and he saw me do it. He'll be after me sooner or later, and I'd prefer to be after him first. To handle it virtually as soon as he's back could catch him off guard."
"Catch Dillon off guard?" Rupert laughed. "That'll be the day."
She was angry, not that it surprised him. Since the events at the bridge, there had been a change in her. There wasn't the control he was used to, the icy calm, but a wildness, and a glitter in her eyes that made him uncomfortable.
"Are you with me on this or not?" she demanded.
"Of course I'm with you. You want him dead. I'll help you."
"Yes, I want him dead, but only if I can do the job myself. He killed my brothers, he's ruined so much that was important to me. It's time he paid. We'll go down to Dauncey this evening, just you and me. You can drive. I'll phone ahead and give the servants the night off. Those two goons you employ, the so-called security men. They're ex-SAS, aren't they?"
"Yes."
"Then they should be able to handle a simple snatch-and-grab."
"They didn't do too well in Hyde Park."
Her anger was fierce. "Well, tell them they have to do better, or I'll ruin them. Do you understand? They'll never work again. I have that power, Rupert, you know I have."
In a strange way, it was as if she was demanding that he agree, and he raised a hand defensively. "Of course you do. I'll arrange it."
"Good. Now get me a drink."
D illon showered and changed, put on black cords, a matching shirt, his old flying jacket, and a pair of jump boots. A three-inch throwing knife was concealed in a pocket on the inside of the right boot. He took it out and checked it. Both edges of the blade were razor sharp and he replaced it carefully.
He went down to the hall and opened a secret drawer under the stairs that swung out to his touch. There was an assortment of handguns there: a Browning, two Walthers, a Colt .25 short-barreled job in an ankle holder. He took one of the Walthers, the one with a silencer on the end, slipped it in the special pocket under his left arm, and went into the garage by the interior door from the kitchen. He got in the Mini Cooper, opened the door with the remote control, drove straight out and away.
A timer on the garage door closed it if it was left open, so he kept on going, aware of the Telecom van's lights coming on behind him. All his precautions had been intended to prevent an immediate confrontation. That would come later, at a time of his own choosing.
F erguson and Hannah were already in the reception area at Rosedene, talking to Martha, when he went in.
"How's he doing?" Dillon asked.
"Not too well. There was an infection of some sort, which hasn't helped."
"I saw him this