I digested the information for a moment. Questionable style and elderly Brit bike notwithstanding, Sam was a rapid and tenacious rider. I’d chased him through the Trough of Bowland’s narrow switchback country lanes often enough to know that for a fact.
“So who is a member?”
“Well Slick was, for a start. And your mates William and Paxo.”
“And the guy they were with tonight – Daz?”
“With the Aprilia?” Sam said, nodding. “Oh yeah.”
“And Gleet?”
Sam looked surprised. “No,” he said slowly. “In fact, I would have said Gleet was dead against ‘em. He was Slick’s mate, of course, but until tonight I’ve never seen him have anything to do with the rest of them. Funny, that.”
“Well it would seem they’ve buried the hatchet,” Sean said with a glance at me, “if what you’ve told me about tonight is anything to go by. Maybe they’ve relented about letting Tess go with them.”
“Mm,” I said. “What about Jamie? That bike of his is only a four hundred. Would they let him join?”
“Who? Oh, the kid at the wake?” Sam asked. He frowned and tugged at his lower lip. “I don’t think I’ve seen him before, but he did say Slick had given him a chance to prove himself, didn’t he? Maybe that’s what he meant.”
“Jamie’s from Ireland,” I murmured. “I wonder if that has anything to do with it.”
“Might do,” Sean considered. “Why are they going over there, anyway? What can they do there that they can’t do here?”
“Drink better Guinness?” I suggested.
“Only in the south,” he said with a smile. “The Guinness in Dublin is the best you’ll get anywhere.” He glanced at Sam. “Do you know where they’re going?”
Sam shook his head. “Search me. Why are you so interested?” he said, smiling a little weakly. “Not thinking of joining ‘em are you, Charlie?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
He nearly choked on the last of his drink. “Hell fire!” he yelped when he could speak again. “Have you lost your mind? Why the hell would you want to do something as stupid as that?”
It wasn’t Sam’s outburst that worried me. It was the fact that Sean had gone very quiet and very still. I risked a quick glance in his direction but his face was a veneer of polite indifference. A muscle jumped, just once, at the side of his jaw, the only outward sign of tension. Ah well, I’d deal with that later.
I turned back to Sam. He took in my measured stare and coloured up, dropping his gaze. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s OK Sam, I know it looks crazy but I made a promise,” I said gently, talking as much to Sean as to him, thinking of Clare’s desperation that I should protect Jacob’s son. “I’m doing this for Clare and Jacob, and . . . what?”
Sam’s flinch had been unmistakable. “For Jacob?” he repeated.
“Yes,” I said. “After all—”
“What else is there, Sam?” Sean cut in, his voice soft but dangerous. “What have you been leaving out?”
Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He opened his mouth to protest that Sean must be mistaken, but then he took one look at the other man’s sudden alertness and clearly changed his mind.
“It was just something Tess said – after you’d left the first time,” he muttered, strangely reluctant to maintain eye contact with either of us. “Look, Charlie, they’d turned the music up by this time and I couldn’t get that close and I might not have—”
“Just spit it out,” Sean said quietly.
“All right, all right,” Sam said, miserable. “Someone asked why didn’t they just postpone this Irish trip. You know, leave it a bit, what with Slick . . . well, y’know. But Tess said they had to go. She was really insistent about it. She said it was too late to back out now, that the stuff was waiting for them.”
“‘Stuff’?” I queried sharply. “What stuff?”
Sean laughed without amusement. “From Ireland?” he said. “It could be anything. Quite apart from any terrorist connotations, there’s been a hell of a lot of counterfeit currency being filtered into the UK from over there in the last few years. Or drugs.” He glanced at Sam and his eyes narrowed. “But that’s not all, is it?”
Sam was looking thoroughly wretched. “She also said—” he hesitated again, “—she said they’d got Jacob on board.”
“Jacob?” I repeated blankly. “Are you sure?”
Sam squirmed again. “I’m sorry, Charlie, but she definitely mentioned him. By name.”
“Jacob’s in Ireland now,” I said, almost to myself.
“But he’s on his way home,” Sean said grimly and, as if he’d heard my unvoiced question, he added, “So you can ask him yourself.”
I straightened. “You’ve heard from him,” I said, unable to suppress an accusing note. “When?”
“He called while you were out. I was going to tell you as soon as you got back but we were, ah, distracted.”
