patiently.
Finally he said, 'Fucked again, my nephew. Fucked at the Colosseum, then at Al Shariz, and now in Ireland. You know what they say, Aldo? Once is okay, twice is coincidence, and three times is enemy action.'
'So what do we do, Don Marco?'
'Nothing. This is Jack's problem. He succeeds or fails on his own. But if he fails… Understand me, Aldo. I'll never let any physical harm come to him. He's my nephew. But the family needs a leader in whom it can be confident. This diamond heist is his last chance. If something happens to that, too… Jack's out.
In the back bar of the Horse Guards pub not far from St Richard's Dock, Harold and Tony Jago waited. It was misty on the river and a little rain drummed against the window.
Harold looked out. 'I like it like this, Tony, it's the way the Thames should be. England for the English, eh? Who needs Europe? A bunch of frogs and krauts.'
'You're right, Harold. Mind you, we're stuck with the fucking Mafia right now.'
'They don't worry me. We can handle them.' At that minute, Manchester Charlie Ford came in through the far door, Amber Frazer with him.
'Jesus, here they come,' Harold said. 'What a pair. I mean, if they want their own thing instead of a woman, that's all right, but I don't like blacks. They're nothing but trouble.'
Ford had the file under his arm and passed it across. 'Everything's taken care of, Harold.'
'Good. Let's wait for Fox. What do you want to drink?'
At Rosedene, Blake was feeling a lot better and greeted Dillon and Helen Black with enthusiasm when they turned up.
'Miller filled me in. We watched Sky Television. You really took them apart.'
'Which just leaves the White Diamond Company.'
'Hey, don't leave me out this time, Sean. I want to be part of that.'
'You can't be, because I won't be part of it, and neither will Bernstein or Ferguson. We've given it to Harry Salter. We're not involved, Blake.'
'Okay, but I can't just sit around here. I need to be with you.'
'Fine. If Daz will release you, that's okay by me.'
Daz agreed he could go, as long as Blake did not take part in any physical activity, so just before noon they repaired to Ferguson's office at the Ministry of Defence, Blake wearing a sling for his right arm. Hannah stood beside Ferguson at his desk.
The Brigadier said, 'I hardly need to say well done. However, we're left with the final nail in Jack Fox's coffin, the White Diamond Company job. What happens now, Superintendent?'
'Frankly, sir, the Salters won't talk to me. It's up to Dillon.'
'Well, according to Roper, tomorrow's the day because that's when the big diamond consignment comes in.'
'What we do know is that they've cut open the old grille gate in the tunnel,' Hannah said. 'The thing we still don't know is, once they've smashed into the basement, how do they bypass the security to get into the vault?'
'That's what I'm going to see Harry Salter about,' Dillon said. 'I'll take Blake. You stay out of it, Hannah. I know you don't like our using a villain like Salter, and I don't want to offend your fine police morality.'
At the Horse Guards, Harold sat reading the file, then passed it to Tony. 'It's not only good, it's bloody good.' At that moment, Fox, Falcone and Russo came in. Harold got up. 'Good to see you. We're just finishing things.' They sat, but Falcone and Russo as usual stood at the wall.
'So, where are we?' Fox demanded.
'Hey, your file was sweetness and light,' Harold said, 'but Charlie here has put in some extras that will truly delight you.'
'Tell me.'
Afterwards, Fox nodded. 'Excellent. There's only one change. I've just had more recent information that the take will be more like twelve million than ten. More for everyone, Jago. So keep our eye on the ball, people.'
'We sure will, Jack,' Harold said.
Fox got up. 'I'm in your hands. You're the experts, we'll keep out of it. Stay in touch.'
He went out, followed by Falcone and Russo. Tony Jago said, 'So we do all the fucking work.'
'Never mind,' Harold told him. 'For a payday like that, I'm glad to do the work.'
Ferguson went into the Dark Man with Dillon and Blake. Salter and Billy were in the end booth and Dora was giving them shepherd's pie.
'Smells good,' Ferguson said. 'Takes me back to Eton. We'll have the same. Blake needs building up.'
'Blake looks bloody awful,' Salter observed.
'Have you seen Sky Television, Billy?' Dillon asked. 'A terrible business in Ireland. An underground bunker blown up, bodies drifting in on the beach, one of them a hard man named Brendan Murphy. Everyone believes the Provos in Dublin were behind it. He wouldn't do as he was told.'
'Yes, I did see that,' Billy said. 'Terrible what goes on over there.'
Dora brought their food, and Dillon laughed. 'He did well, your boy, Harry. Saved my life by killing one bastard in the bunker and saved all of us, killing another on the boat.'
Salter was shocked. He turned to Billy. 'You never told me.'
'Yeah, well, you never believe anything I say.'
'My God, you are a chip off the old block, after all.'
'I'd say he's a chip off his own block,' Ferguson said and started to eat. 'Roper definitely thinks tomorrow. The big consignment arrives at the White Diamond Company from South Africa. And I'm told the stakes are higher. Twelve Million, not ten.'
'Really?' Salter said. 'Then I'm sorry for them.' 'Why?'
'It's too big, Brigadier. I'm not an educated man, I go by experience, and nobody knows more about the London underworld and thieving than I do. What screwed up the Great Train Robbery was the size. Biggest criminal haul ever. There was no way society and the law could tolerate that, so they turned on the big guns.'
'That makes considerable sense,' Ferguson agreed.
Blake said, 'Yes, but Jack Fox is desperate. He has to be. He needs a big one.'
'Oh, sure, and Manchester Charlie Ford and his team are greedy and stupid and will all be back on landing D at Wandsworth before they know it,' Salter said.
Dillon finished his food and accepted the glass of bar champagne that Dora put at his elbow. 'Let's go over this again, Harry. They've got Manchester Charlie Ford, one of the best lock and safe men in the business; Amber Frazer, a heavy; and Connie Briggs, a hotshot on security and electronics.'
Salter told him, 'Did you know he went to London University? From a well-known family of villains. His mother was real proud, him doing that. Got this degree. What they call first-class honours.'
'My, that is good,' Ferguson said.
'They threw a big party. I was there. He gets a research job for British Telecom, but it's not worth enough money, so what does he do? Starts putting himself about.'
Billy said, 'He really is a genius where the electronics caper is concerned, Dillon.'
'I'm beginning to believe you. And Val French?'
'Well, he's a top man with a thermal lance, cutting, all that. I'd say he'd have sorted out the gate and organized smashing through the tunnel wall into the basement.'
They'd all finished their food and Dora cleared the table. Blake was sweating, his forehead damp; he didn't look good.
Salter said, 'Bring him a brandy, Dora. You don't look well, my old son.'
'I've been worse,' Blake said. 'But thanks anyway.' He hesitated. 'I suppose someone should bring this up,
