“Enjoy them. Later over the coffee we talk business.”
DARKNESS WAS FALLING as they sat on the boardwalk and the maid served coffee. When she was finished, he waved her away.
“What happens now?” Kathleen asked.
“Marco will take you to a small beach cottage not far from here. You’ll be safe there. Mori will keep an eye on you.”
“And then?”
“MacArthur Airport is not far away. I keep a Gulfstream there. You’ll fly to Dublin with my nephew and Mori.” He smiled. “Unless the circumstances change.”
There was a certain menace to that smile and Kathleen shivered. Ryan said, “What are we getting at here?”
“Your niece told my nephew that he could only have the position of the
“That’s right.”
“I require them now, an act of faith if you like.” He smiled again.
Kathleen shook her head and said stubbornly, “Oh, no, mister, you wait until we’re in Ireland.”
“Then that, too, must wait,” he said. “At least for you, Signorina.” He turned to Ryan. “You go, she stays here and takes her chances.”
Ryan exploded. “You can’t do that.”
“I can do anything, my friend. I learned from my father many years ago to always look for a man’s weakness. Yours is your niece, Mr. Ryan.” He stood up. “Think about it. Come, Marco, give them time.”
When they had gone Kathleen said, “The bastards. I’d like to shoot the lot of them.”
“Well, you can’t and we don’t have a choice. We’ve got to get out of America as soon as possible. I couldn’t face going back inside, but I also couldn’t face leaving you here.”
“So you’ll do it? What if they dump us? What if you give him the position and that bugger Mori shoots us?”
“I don’t think so. I’m too useful to them for a number of reasons, and if they intend to shoot us at some stage, they can just as easily do it in Ireland.” He smiled bleakly. “No, I’ll give him what he wants.”
“Then give him a false position,” she said.
“You’re not thinking straight. At some point in time we’ll be in a boat with these bowsers and a diver going down, and if the
She gazed at him searchingly. “Tell me.”
So he did.
AFTERWARDS SHE SAT there holding his hand. “All these years and you never told me.”
“I always did say I never trusted anyone in my life, not even you.”
“Well, you do now, and you’re right. We must get to Ireland. Once we’re there we’ll think of something.” She raised her voice. “Don Antonio?”
He appeared with Sollazo. “You’ve thought it over?”
“Yes, and we agree.”
“Excellent.” Sollazo took his diary from his breast pocket and a pen. Don Antonio Russo smiled. “I knew you were a practical young woman, Signorina, the moment I clapped eyes on you.”
ELEVEN
IN THE OVAL Office the President sat and listened as Blake Johnson told him the worst.
“I’ve seen the man Salamone at the Hurley Street Secure Unit since he got in and I’ve grilled him thoroughly. Everything he knows he’s told me. You’ve read the file I sent up with all the relevant facts as to Ryan’s background. As you can see, British Intelligence had a report on Ryan’s involvement with the truck heist. It came from the Protestant terrorist Reid, when he was arrested for murdering two soldiers and was trying to do a deal. He speaks of Ryan and his niece being responsible and a man named Martin Keogh. He, it seems, was a total mystery. No details available.”
“A wild one, this Ryan,” the President said. “And this young woman.” He shook his head. “I sometimes despair of human beings.” He straightened. “So, where are we? What happens with these Russo people?”
“In my opinion, we’ll get nowhere in that direction. Marco Sollazo is one of the most celebrated attorneys in Manhattan. If approached on this matter he would express shock and dismay, disavow any suggestion that he even knew Ryan. The new liberality of institutions like Green Rapids, the way visitors and prisoners are allowed to wander, facilitated Sollazo’s ability to contact Ryan, but it’s also a situation in which he would be able to deny all contact. Yes, he was at Green Rapids, but only to see Salamone, and in Salamone we have only the word of a convicted felon, a bank robber who murdered a policewoman.” He shook his head. “The District Attorney wouldn’t waste five minutes on it.”
“And Don Antonio Russo?”
“Besides his nephew, the finest legal brains in New York are on his payroll. He’s never spent a day in a cell in his entire life.”
“But do you believe Salamone?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“So what do you think is happening?”
“I think Sollazo and his uncle took Ryan to get their hands on the bullion. They’ll do some sort of a deal, obviously, let’s say fifty-fifty. Remember, that bullion is worth one hundred and fifty million dollars now, and Ryan is a fanatic, totally dedicated to the Protestant cause.”
“Such a vast sum of money devoted to arms for that cause?” The President shook his head. “Peace right out of the window. It is a prospect too bitter to contemplate. All my work and the work of Mr. John Major to go for nothing.”
“Exactly, Mr. President, so it seems to me that putting Don Antonio Russo or his nephew in a cell is of secondary significance. The only important thing would be to prevent that gold or part of it from falling into Loyalist hands. Quite frankly, it would enable them to tool up for a civil war.”
“No, we can’t have that. What’s your best guess as to the next step?”
“They’ll take Ryan and the girl to Ireland. Then, they’ll try to locate the ship. Probably a relatively simple operation at first, a boat, a diver. Once located, some sort of salvage operation.”
“I want this stopped at all costs.” The President frowned and then suddenly smiled. “I think this could be a job for Dillon.”
“Dillon, Mr. President?”
“You remember what happened when I met Prime Minister John Major on the Terrace at the House of Commons the other week? The bogus waiter? Sean Dillon, originally the most feared enforcer the IRA had, now troubleshooter for Brigadier Charles Ferguson, your British counterpart, Blake.”
“Of course, Mr. President.”
“Fine. So to start with, get me the Prime Minister on the secure line.”
IN HIS STUDY at Number Ten Downing Street, John Major listened. When the President had finished, he said, “I totally agree, Mr. President, we can’t allow this to happen. I’ll empower Brigadier Ferguson to intervene at once, and I’m sure Dillon will play his usual part. Leave it with me.”
He put the phone down, sat there thinking about it, then lifted the phone again and spoke to his aide. “Brigadier Charles Ferguson. I want him here at the earliest moment.”
He sat back frowning. Ireland, goddamnit. It never went away, in spite of everything he’d done, even to the extent of putting his political career on the line.
