Drink With The Devil

He made a cup of tea and shaved at the kitchen sink. There was a small portable radio on the windowsill. He switched it on and managed to find the early morning BBC news broadcast. He continued to shave and was wiping his face clean when the weather forecast came on and he listened intently. For the Irish Sea it was winds three to four with some sea fog and rain squalls.

Which could have been worse. He finished his tea and started to dress when there was the sound of a vehicle outside. He pulled on his boots and went to the window and saw Kathleen getting out of the Ford.

Keogh took his reefer down from a peg and opened the door. “Another dirty old morning,” he said cheerfully.

“We thought you’d like a proper breakfast. I’ve come to fetch you.”

“Now isn’t that the kind thought?” He got into the passenger seat. “First we’ll take a run to the end of the jetty. I’d like to see how things are.”

“Fine by me.”

She drove along the broad track and moved on to the jetty stopping just before the end. Keogh got out and went and peered over and she joined him.

“Only a few feet of water down there at the moment,” he said. “The tide must be way out.”

“And that’s bad?”

“They wouldn’t get in. Still, it’s supposed to start turning around about ten-thirty.” He looked out to sea. “Pity about this damn mist. Irish Rose could be hove-to out there, but we can’t see.” He smiled suddenly and squeezed her shoulder. “Never mind, it’s going to be fine. I have a good feeling about it. Now let’s get that breakfast.”

AND THE IRISH ROSE, Muller at the wheel, was indeed hove-to about a mile out. Tully stood on the bridge with Dolan peering into the mist.

“God damn this weather,” Dolan said. “Can’t see a thing.” He turned to Tully. “Is it off?”

“Is it, hell,” Tully said. “If there’s one thing I do well it’s navigate, you know that. No, we wait for the turn of the tide and go in.” He turned fiercely. “Nothing stops me getting my hands on that truck. Nothing,” and he went into the wheelhouse.

IT WAS ABOUT half past ten and Keogh and Ryan were in the barn carefully checking the weapons again. Keogh picked up the Walther in the ankle holster.

“Can I take this? I’ve always liked an ace in the hole myself.”

“Be my guest.”

“I’ll put it on just before we leave,” and he put it in the pocket of his reefer.

“Everything else goes with us in the large case,” Ryan said. “I’ll bring it with me in the transporter.”

“Just in case we have to impress friend Tully?”

“Exactly.”

Kathleen looked in. “I’m going down to Marsh End in the Ford with Benny. He thinks he’s lost some sheep and they might have wandered that way.”

“All right,” Ryan told her. “But if there’s any sign of the Irish Rose, don’t go near. Martin and I will be along in a wee while in the Land Rover.”

“I’ll see you there,” she said and went out.

KATHLEEN LEFT THE Ford outside the cottage and she and Benny walked down the track into the marsh. It was still raining heavily and very misty. Suddenly there was the sound of a sheep baaing over on the right. Benny paused, a curiously intent look on his face, and then he smiled and nodded and moved off at surprising speed considering his size, and Kathleen went after him.

There were five sheep, standing in water up to their bellies, marooned from the look of it, as miserable as any living creature could be. Benny laughed, waded through the creek, picked one up, and carried it across to dry land.

“Good,” he said.

Kathleen nodded. “I’ll walk down to the jetty,” and she turned away as he waded back to the other sheep.

She walked along the track, cocooned in mist, and somewhere a dog barked and then the Irish Rose emerged as she went forward, moored stern first against the end of the jetty. The ramp wasn’t down yet for the tide was still too low, and a boy of perhaps twelve in a hooded anorak stood watching. He had a fishing rod in one hand and a small terrier at his heel.

The legend Irish Rose was plain across the stern and the boy moved forward to examine it. As he did so, Tully vaulted over the rail.

“Now then, you little bastard, what do you want?”

He grabbed the boy by the front of his anorak and shook him, and Kathleen Ryan ran forward. “You great bully, let him go.”

She struck out at Tully, who released his grip in astonishment, and the boy turned and ran away followed by the dog.

Tully grabbed for the girl’s wrist. “So it’s you, is it?”

“Leave me be.”

She slapped his face and Dolan and Fox appeared at the stern, laughing. “A hot one there, Captain. Needs sorting out. Are you up to it or do you need help?”

Tully was angry now as she slapped at him again. “You little bitch. I’ll teach you.”

He had both her wrists now and pulled her toward him and somewhere there was a terrible cry and Benny arrived on the run. He grabbed Tully from behind, pulling him away, and threw him to the ground. Then he turned to the girl.

“You go now.”

Tully scrambled up and punched him in the back. Benny swung an arm backwards and knocked him down again with casual ease and Tully cried out, “Dolan, get down here.”

Dolan and Fox vaulted the rail, Fox carrying an iron bar. Benny took a fist in the face from Dolan with no apparent ill effect, but punched him in the breastbone in return, knocking him onto his back.

Kathleen screamed, “Stop it!”

Fox rushed in wielding his iron bar. Benny actually took the blow on his left arm, twisted Fox’s wrist so that he dropped the bar. Then he gave him a slap backhanded that spun Fox around and sent him on his face.

“Benny, look out!” Kathleen called.

Tully had got to his feet and picked up the iron bar. He swung at Benny’s skull, but the big man turned just in time so that it bounced off his shoulder. He tore the iron bar from Tully’s hand, then wrapped his great hands around his throat and actually lifted him off his feet.

There was a shot, flat in the rain, and Keogh and Ryan ran out of the mist. “Benny, no!” Ryan called out.

Benny paused, still holding Tully off the ground, then gently lowered him. Tully collapsed groaning, sitting on the ground, head on his knees.

“What brought this on?” Ryan asked.

She told him. When she was finished, Keogh said, “So some boy saw the boat. So what? It might mean something later, but not now.”

“I agree.” Ryan turned to Benny. “Good lad, Benny, for looking after Kathleen. Back to the farm with you now.” He nodded to her. “Go with him. We’ll sort things here.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Michael.”

“Not your fault, girl. It comes from having to deal with scum.”

She took Benny’s hand and led him away. Tully, Dolan, and Fox were on their feet, distinctly the worse for wear. Ryan stood looking at them.

“What a sorry bunch of shites you are. Go on, get on board before I forget myself and shoot the lot of ye.”

IN THE WHEELHOUSE Tully sat at the chart table, the rest of the crew grouped around him. Ryan said, “The only reason I’m talking at all is that I need you. We’ll be back here between four-thirty and five with the transporter,