which could mean you might be in real danger.’
‘ Don’t make it sound so dramatic, Karl,’ Henry said in an attempt to shrug it off. However, Donaldson’s words were not to be ignored. Two cops had been wasted already. A third wouldn’t make much difference.
‘ You might be targets, too,’ Henry said bleakly.
‘ So in that case we’d all better be careful and we better make sure we get that evidence together tomorrow. Quick.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Conroy, Morton and McNamara assembled the morning after — Sunday — at their usual place. The time — 8 a.m. — was pretty un usual.
It was a business breakfast. They were served with eggs, bacon, tomato, mushrooms, toast, orange juice and fresh coffee.
Two of Conroy’s men sat outside the room, having been provided with coffee and bacon sandwiches.
The three men were dressed casually. Conroy and McNamara intended to play nine holes of golf after the meeting, using Conroy’s men as caddies.
‘ How do things stand?’ Conroy enquired.
‘ Christie’s been well and truly done over and he knows there’s no way out for him but to give in,’ Morton said. ‘Having said that, I don’t think we’ll keep him down without a fight. Something’s going on, but I’m not sure what. I’ll follow it up later.’
‘ Expand,’ McNamara said.
Morton shook his head. ‘Just a funny feeling. If there is anything, I’ll let you know.’
‘ If there is anything,’ said Conroy, opening his mouth and dropping a rasher of bacon into it, chomping as he spoke, ‘Henry Christie should be iced. We’ve spent enough time farting around with him and we shouldn’t spend any more. At least if he’s dead he won’t be able to tell tales.’
‘ He might say more dead than alive,’ Morton retorted. ‘If there’s a way of dealing with things which means people don’t get killed, we should do it that way, even if it means a bit of dancing on our feet. Killing’s easy, as we’ve shown already. The repercussions are difficult. That’s why we’re working so damned hard in Blackpool, covering our backs.’
‘ Fair enough — for the time being.’ Conroy took a swig of coffee. ‘But if he gets difficult, don’t hesitate: do him.’
‘ Have you found that prostitute yet?’ McNamara said.
‘ Still looking,’ said Conroy. ‘She’s gone to ground but we’ll find her. I got someone on it. Bit of a loon, like, but reliable. She’s a different problem to Christie. No one’ll miss her and the cops won’t bust a gut to find her killers.’
They ate in silence for a while.
Conroy cleared his plate and covered some toast thickly with butter and Tiptree Lime Marmalade. McNamara pushed his food around, eating little. He wasn’t hungry. Morton ate most of his, but it was coffee he craved. He had drunk three large cups of it so far.
‘ And the other matter?’ asked Morton.
‘ Hamilton meets the buyer’s agent today in Lisbon. He’ll be with us to view the goods tomorrow. He’ll buy, I’m sure of it… then we can arrange payment details and transportation.’ That was McNamara.
Morton: ‘Where will they be displayed? I’ll fix up to get them out of the police store, but where are they going to? I believe Rider was rather obstructive to your offer, Ronnie?’
‘ Well, he had his fucking chance. I’ll have that club in my hands tonight — in a physical sense. Then I’ll exert some more pressure on John and I’m sure he’ll sign everything over to me… and then get convicted.’ He guffawed. ‘Then there’ll be no one in my hair to bug me. Munrow gone for good, Rider gone for life. If you do your job, that is.’
He looked at Morton.
‘ That’s just what Henry Christie is doing for you.’
Rider’s breakfast appeared on a blue plastic plate with a white plastic spoon and red plastic mug of tea. The food was lukewarm, having come all the way down from the canteen. It consisted of congealed beans, a sausage and a rubbery fried egg and one piece of toast which had looked at a grill from about six metres. The tea was hot and sweet, tasted wonderful and he devoured it.
He munched his sausage and took a few measly bites of the toast.
His night’s sleep had been interrupted by the consistent banging of other cell doors and the shouting and bawling of drunks. Being a suspected murderer he was given a cell to himself, for which he was grateful. Had a drunk been thrown in with him, he would have murdered him too.
He was allowed a quick shower and a shave before being banged up again.
A cop pushed a copy of the People through his hatch and Rider thanked him genuinely. Any short escape from boredom was welcome.
He settled down, deciding to read every word.
When the cell door opened a few minutes later he was deep into an article about a show-jumper and a tart.
‘ You’ve got a visitor,’ the gaoler informed Rider.
Breakfast in the Christie household was a chaotic affair. The two girls rushed around as if the house was an obstacle course, both seemingly hyperactive after a good night’s sleep. They were getting ready for riding lessons and moved around in various stages of undress, finally emerging in jodhpurs, boots, whips and hats, ready to go. Kate and Karen volunteered to take them. They went in Donaldson’s Cherokee and the girls were delighted that, at last, they were in a car which complemented their hobby.
The men sighed and stretched out.
‘ Great kids,’ commented Donaldson.
‘ Sell ‘em to you,’ Henry offered. ‘Nahh, they’re brilliant. Not long for you now?’
A smile of satisfaction spread slowly across the American’s face. Fatherhood beckoned and he was a willing participant.
Henry drank the last of his tea and the two men finalised their plans for the day ahead with an agreement to meet or contact each other at 6 p.m.
They shook hands before parting.
‘ Watch your ass,’ Donaldson said. ‘Don’t trust any of the fuckers an inch.’
‘ I won’t.’
They weren’t allowed to touch one another. It was a closed visit. Rider sat on one side of the room with a wall and glass panel in front of him. Isa sat on the other side. A speaker in one corner of the glass allowed them to communicate.
She looked forlorn and helpless and he had a need to reach out and hold her very tightly.
‘ Jacko told me,’ she said in answer to his question.
Rider nodded. ‘I told him not to tell anyone.’
‘ He thought I should know.’
‘ I don’t deserve you,’ Rider said simply.
Her eyes misted over. She tilted her head back but could not prevent a tear rolling down her cheek. ‘I love you, John. I can’t stop loving you because of what you’ve done. I just want you to know that I’m here for you and I’ll wait. Corny, but true. You’re all I’ve wanted for years and I’m not going to let you go.’
He looked away from her quickly. His eyes were unable to level with hers.
‘ I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ he babbled. ‘I really screwed up, didn’t I?’
She forced the glimmer of a smile. ‘Yeah, so what’s new?’ she said, but not unkindly. ‘What’s going to
