to be treated like I was the enemy or something.’ She nodded at the newspaper. ‘Four volunteers shot in Maida Vale just before you arrive on my doorstep. Coincidence? I think not. So what am I supposed to think, Dermott? Either you were with them and you managed to get away, or you killed them. You want to know what I think?’ Lynch nodded slowly. ‘I think if it was the UVF or the UDA or even the SAS after you then you’d have told me. In fact, you probably wouldn’t even have come to me for help, you’d have called up someone in the organisation. There’s plenty of safe houses in Kilburn where they’d take good care of you.’
‘Not such good care,’ he said, smiling.
‘A winning smile isn’t going to get you off the hook that easily,’ she said. ‘That’s something else that pisses me off. You lied your way into my bed, Dermott. It’ll be a long time before I forgive you for that.’
‘It wasn’t a lie, Marie. Okay, I admit that I didn’t tell you the whole truth, but I didn’t lie. I am going after Cramer, and the organisation isn’t happy about it.’
‘Semantics,’ she said dismissively. ‘You’re playing with words. Anyway, like I was saying, I don’t think that you were working with the men who were killed last night. Am I right?’
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘They tried to kill me. I was defending myself.’
‘And why would they want to kill you, Dermott? They can’t all have been jealous husbands.’
Lynch pointed at the paper. ‘You read about the farmer who died? Pat O’Riordan?’ Marie nodded. ‘The IRA murdered him. It might even have been the same four guys who tried to kill me.’
‘That’s who. I asked why.’
‘Pat and I were involved in an operation in the border country. It went wrong, two tourists were killed. Americans. I’m not sure what happened then. We were told to get out, to lie low for a while, but it looks as if someone decided that a more permanent solution was called for.’
‘They’d do that?’
‘Of course. They don’t want anyone else to take care of their dirty laundry. They want to show that they can discipline their own. Plus, if the authorities had got hold of us, we might have talked. I’m not saying we would have, I’m saying that the Army Council would worry about the possibility. So rather than take the risk, they decided to have Pat and me killed.’
Marie’s mouth fell open. She shook her head, then gulped half her Diet Coke. ‘This is unreal,’ she said as she put down her glass.
‘I wish it was,’ said Lynch. He picked up his cheeseburger and bit into it.
‘So they attacked you and you killed them?’
Lynch swallowed and nodded. ‘I was on my way to the flat where I was staying. A van pulled up, a guy asked me if I was Dermott Lynch. They were all armed. If they hadn’t been planning to kill me there and then, it would only have been a matter of time. Somewhere nice and quiet, out in the country maybe. Perhaps they were planning to make it look like a suicide or an accident, but Marie, love, there was no way I was going to hang around to find out.’
Marie began to prod her salad again, but she made no move to eat it. ‘So why didn’t you just make a run for it? Why didn’t you just take your car and drive? And why were the police looking at your car this morning?’
Lynch put down his cheeseburger and wiped his hands on a paper napkin. He realised that there was no point in lying to her. The discovery of Foley’s body would be front page news in the following day’s papers, but that wasn’t why he had decided to tell her everything. She was right — he owed her his honesty. ‘There’s a body in the boot.’
‘What?’ She looked around, left and right, as if she feared that somebody would overhear, but the nearby tables were all empty and their waitress was busying herself at a hissing cappuccino machine.
‘There was another guy, the guy I was staying with.’
‘You killed him as well?’
‘It was an accident.’
Marie’s eyes widened. ‘An accident? Jesus, Dermott, how the hell do you accidentally kill someone?’
A thick scum was forming on the top of Lynch’s coffee and he used a fingernail to drag it to the side of his mug. ‘He tried to grab my gun. It went off. Honest to God, I had no intention of shooting him.’
Marie used both hands to brush her hair behind her ears as she studied Lynch. ‘Do the police know it was you?’
‘My fingerprints were all over the car.’
‘So the police are going to be after you, as well as the IRA? And you’re still going after Cramer?’
‘That’s about the size of it, love.’
‘You don’t exactly make it easy for yourself, do you?’
‘Marie, if it was easy, everyone would be doing it.’ He smiled, though he was watching her carefully to assess her reaction. Helping him get back at the British soldier who’d been partly responsible for the death of her parents was one thing; helping a murderer on the run was quite another.
The door to the cafe opened and Lynch looked over to see who was coming in. It was an elderly couple, both overweight and wrapped up in wool coats and matching tartan scarves. They fussed over each other as they sat down at a table by the window, then they both put on glasses so that they could read the menu.
Marie pushed her plate away. ‘I can’t eat this,’ she said.
Lynch looked down at his burger. Grease was congealing on the plate. ‘Yeah, I’ve had enough, too,’ he said.
‘We can get something else in Wales,’ said Marie. She looked at him as if daring him to argue.
Lynch sipped his coffee. It was lukewarm. He watched her over the top of his mug. Any thoughts about arguing with Marie disappeared when he saw the intensity in her eyes. He knew that nothing he could say would dissuade her. Besides, now that she knew the trouble he was in and where he was heading, it made more sense to keep her close to him. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
Marie nodded, her eyes fixed on his. ‘Oh yes, Dermott, I’m quite sure. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.’
Cramer sat in the rear seat of the Mercedes and stared at the back of Martin’s head. ‘You okay, Mike?’ Martin asked.
Cramer realised that Martin was watching him in the rear-view mirror. He forced a smile. ‘Yeah. Just fine.’ Actually he felt far from fine. He felt as if a metal clamp was biting into his intestines. The previous night the pain had been worse than anything he’d ever felt before in his life, worse even than on the two occasions when he’d been brutally tortured. At least then he’d had someone to blame for his pain, someone he could curse and hate. Having a focus for his anger had helped take his mind off the damage that was being done to his body, but with the cancer there was nothing to fight against. The pain was the result of his own body working against itself; he had no one to hate but himself.
Allan was walking around the rear of the Mercedes, his head swivelling from side to side. As his hand gripped the handle of the door next to Cramer, Martin nodded. ‘Here we go,’ said Martin, opening his own door. Cramer grunted as he stepped out of the car. Martin moved to stand directly in front of him as Allan closed the door, then the three men moved together towards the steps that led up to the front door of the school. Cramer’s stomach churned and he tasted something bitter and acidic at the back of his mouth. He forced himself to swallow whatever it was that he’d thrown up and then took several deep breaths.
One of the guards came along the gravel path from the croquet lawn and Martin stepped to the side to provide cover. The man was too far away to be a threat but Martin kept a wary eye on them as Allan stepped up to the front door and checked that the hallway was clear. Cramer looked up and saw Su-ming at one of the upstairs windows. ‘Focus, Mike,’ Allan whispered. Cramer had stopped at the foot of the steps and both the bodyguards had been forced to stop too, so that they wouldn’t get too far ahead of him. His protection depended on them never being more than a step or two from his side. The further away they were, the more he was at risk. ‘In the car you’re safe,’ said Allan, coming back down the stone steps. ‘We’ll always be using vehicles with bullet-proof glass. Besides, our man has never taken a shot through a window. It’s always face to face. Entering and leaving vehicles and buildings is where you’re in the most danger, so you must be aware of everything that’s going on around you.’
A ripple of nausea washed across Cramer’s stomach and he felt his legs go weak. Allan put a hand on Cramer’s shoulder. ‘You tired?’ he asked.
