IN THE BACK parlour of the Loyalist, Kevin Stringer embraced Barry. “Jack, I can’t tell you how great it is to see you again.”
“And you, Kevin. This is my associate, Mr. Sollazo from New York. You’ve found a boat?”
“Indeed I have.
Sollazo laughed out loud. “That I like.”
“How far would you be going?” Stringer asked.
“Rathlin Island,” Barry said. “Does anyone live there these days?”
“Not in years.”
“How far?”
“Only three or four miles.”
“Good, we can take a look.”
“Fine,” Stringer said. “But come and have a drink and something to eat.”
“So you’re doing food these days?” Barry said.
“We all need to make a living, Jack, and times are changing with the peace process. Tourists flooding back, Americans like Mr. Sollazo. I have seven rooms here. In the summer I was full most weeks. But come and eat. Best Irish stew in the country.”
THERE WERE A few regulars in the bar having a drink. Barry and Sollazo sat at the table in the bow window, ate rabbit pie and drank Guinness. On the other side of the bar, Hannah Bernstein did a good nervous act to the barman.
“Could I just have sandwiches?”
Kevin Stringer moved in fast and smiled, at his most expansive. “Anything you’d like.”
“Well, salad would be fine,” she said.
“No problem. Touring, are you?”
“That’s right.”
“And to drink?”
“A vodka and tonic would be nice.”
“Coming up. Just you sit yourself down.”
There were some newspapers on a stand by the door. She took one and sat at a table at the far end of the room from the window. Barry had his back to her so it was Sollazo who noticed. Very nice, he thought. It was a strange quirk, but he’d always liked women who wore glasses.
AN HOUR LATER, Sollazo, Barry, and Stringer went down to the harbor. Stringer led the way to the slipway and a green inflatable with an outboard motor.
“Here we go,” he said.
Sollazo and Barry climbed in, Stringer followed and cast off. He started the outboard and they moved away. Hannah, wandering down from the pub, watched them go.
FROM THE HILL Devlin followed their progress through the binoculars. “I was right,” he said with some satisfaction. “They’re closing on the boat that looked promising.” He nodded. “Now they’re boarding. Have a look.”
Dillon did, watching them board, then swung to the jetty and focused on Hannah Bernstein. “Take care, girl dear, take care,” he said softly.
ON BOARD
Sollazo said, “It seems as if it’s seen better days.”
“Top show isn’t everything. It looks shabby, but the hull is steel and by Akerboon. Penta petrol engine, twin screws. Good for twenty-five knots. She’s got a depth sounder, radar, automatic steering. Everything you need.”
Barry turned to Sollazo. “Are you happy?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Barry nodded and said to Stringer, “Fine, Kevin. We’ll unload the station wagon in your garage. You put the stuff on board later. We’ll return to Dublin. We’ll be back before noon tomorrow to put to sea.”
“That’s fine, Jack.”
They went to the rail and Sollazo dropped into the inflatable. Stringer said eagerly, “It’s important, is it, Jack? I mean for the movement? The great days back?”
“I know what you mean, Kevin,” Barry said. “To hell with peace.”
HANNAH PULLED IN beside the Toyota at the top of the hill and got out. “They came back from the boat and went to the pub.”
Dillon had the binoculars raised. “The station wagon’s just leaving. No matter, only one road they can go. We’ll catch them.”
“So, if they’re leaving they’ll be coming back,” Devlin said.
“And I think I should be here to receive them,” Hannah said. “Have you got a bag of any description in your car, Liam?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Devlin opened the boot of the Toyota and produced a large holdall. “Empty, I’m afraid.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’ll book into the Loyalist and play the tourist. They’ll be back.”
“And we with them,” Dillon said.
Devlin put his hands on her shoulders. “Take care. We’d hate to lose you.”
“Don’t worry.” She raised her shoulder bag. “I’m carrying.”
“Hannah, you’re the wonder of the world.” Dillon kissed her on both cheeks and then softly on the mouth.
Her eyes widened. “Damn you, Dillon, that was a first,” and she got into the Renault and drove away.
TEN MINUTES LATER a delighted Kevin Stringer was showing Hannah a bedroom with a view of the harbor. “And how long would you be staying?” he asked.
“Two nights, possibly three. I’m just touring. Down from Belfast.”
“A great city. We don’t have en suite facilities, but the bathroom and the necessary is just next door.”
“Wonderful.”
“I’ll see you later. Dinner at seven if you like,” and he went out.
DILLON CAUGHT UP with the station wagon within fifteen minutes and settled back. “What do you think they’re up to?”
“This was just a preliminary sortie to check the boat. They’ve probably dropped off the diving equipment. It’s back to Ballyburn now. They’ll return, maybe tomorrow, with the others.”
“And up we come again and what then?” Dillon asked.
“That’s up to you and that young woman back there. She has the police authority, Sean. Scotstown is in Ulster and that’s part of the United Kingdom. It’s up to you and Ferguson.” Devlin leaned back. “Maybe a little gunplay, who knows, but not as far as I’m concerned. I’m getting too old, Sean. The trigger finger isn’t what it was. I’d let you down.”
“Cobblers,” Dillon said.
“I’ve done my bit. Good luck and God bless you, but count me out.”
IT WAS ALMOST four o’clock and at Victoria Farm, Kathleen was in the kitchen boiling the kettle. Ryan sat at the table and Mori was in the sitting room.
She glanced at her watch. “They’re due back in an hour. If we’re going to do it, it should be now.”
