Drink With The Devil

now, but what about Dillon and this guy Devlin?”

“Liam Devlin was the best in the business once, but he’s eighty-five years of age. Dillon’s the hard man.”

“Not to me he isn’t,” Mori said.

“Well, it would make an interesting encounter, but no need. The Chief Inspector makes a very satisfactory hostage if Dillon and Devlin turn up.” He turned to Stringer. “Right, Kevin, an early breakfast and we’ll leave at dawn. You’ll hold the fort here?”

FERGUSON ON HIS secure line finished talking to Blake Johnson. The American said, “What happens now that Ryan is dead? Would you say the location has died with him?”

“Definitely not, otherwise why would they have returned to Scotstown? My Chief Inspector, as I told you, is there undercover, Dillon in hot pursuit. A man of infinite resource and guile. He’ll sort it out, he always does. He’ll find out where that damn boat is.”

“And then?”

“Job for the Royal Navy’s salvage section. Something nice and discreet. Make it look like an exercise.” He laughed. “One thing is certain. There’s no way our friends can mount a proper salvage operation on that boat, not now.”

“The President will be pleased to hear that.”

“And so will the Prime Minister when I tell him in the morning. I’ll keep you up to date on future developments naturally.”

“I’d appreciate that, Brigadier.”

Ferguson, sitting by the fire at his flat, put the phone down and went to the drinks cabinet and poured a large whiskey.

“Come on, Dillon,” he said softly. “Sort the buggers out.”

DILLON AT THAT moment was on the hill outside the village, the Toyota parked in the shelter of the wood. He scanned the front of the Loyalist with his binoculars, then had a look at the Avenger at anchor out there in the harbor.

“And where will you be, Hannah my love? Still in bed at this time in the morning I shouldn’t wonder,” he said softly.

Dawn was coming up fast now and the morning was gray and grim, the damp clinging mist shrouding everything, and rain fell relentlessly. He lit a cigarette and wondered how he was going to play it, and then the front door of the Loyalist opened and they all came out, Jack Barry, Kathleen, Sollazo, and Mori with Hannah Bernstein between them. Stringer stood in the doorway talking to Barry, then went inside.

“Sweet Mother of God!” Dillon said and followed them with his binoculars as they walked down the slipway and got into the green inflatable and cast off. The outboard hammered into life and they moved away. Dillon got into the Toyota and started the engine.

KEVIN STRINGER, MAKING another pot of tea in the kitchen, was aware of a slight creaking as the back door opened. He turned and Dillon smiled at him.

“Dear God, it’s you, Sean,” and Stringer’s throat went dry.

“A long time, Kevin. So what’s been happening here?”

“What do you mean?”

Dillon took the Walther from his pocket. “This thing makes hardly a sound and you know me. I’ll put you on sticks, so tell me.”

“Please, Sean, I’m only a middleman on this. I listened in when the woman was on the phone. She identified herself as a Chief Inspector and spoke to a Brigadier Ferguson. Mentioned you and Liam Devlin.”

“So, as they say in bad movies, all is revealed.”

“Michael Ryan’s dead,” Stringer said. “A heart attack.”

“I know that,” Dillon said. “I know everything. So they’re going out to Irish Rose?”

“That’s right.”

“And the Chief Inspector?”

“Jack said she’d be a useful hostage if you turned up. The Ryan girl wanted to kill her. So did that bastard Mori.”

“Is that a fact? Well we can’t have that, so let’s get down to the jetty fast before they leave.”

ON THE AVENGER Barry was at the wheel, the two women sitting on the bench beside him. Sollazo was on the stern deck with Mori and starting to raise the anchor when Stringer’s voice boomed across the water.

“Jack, Dillon’s here.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Jack Barry said and switched off the engine.

He went out on deck and Sollazo and Mori joined him at the rail. “Is that him?”

“As ever was.” He raised his voice. “Is it yourself, Sean?”

“And who else?” Dillon called back. “Let’s talk.”

“I’ll be over.” Barry turned to Mori. “Pull the inflatable in.” He shook his head. “The mad bastard.”

“You sound as if you like him,” Sollazo said.

“He was like a son to me. The great days we knew together in Derry in the old days leading British paratroopers a fine old dance.”

Mori shaded his eyes with a hand. “He doesn’t look much to me.”

Barry dropped into the inflatable and looked up. “On his worst day and your best he’d put you away without even thinking about it.”

He cast off and started the outboard.

DILLON LIT A cigarette as the inflatable coasted in. “You’re looking good, Jack, the years have been kind.”

“Kinder still to you, you young bastard. Where’s Liam Devlin?”

“Back in Kilrea. Eighty-five is a little old for gunplay.”

“The best of men in his day.”

“So here we are,” Dillon said. “And what’s to be done? You’ve had it, Jack, no point to it anymore.”

“Not quite true, Sean. If we find the wreck, which we will, and the gold bars waiting.” He shrugged. “A hard morning’s work could net one million, perhaps two. Not to be sniffed at.”

“Ah, you were always the practical man,” Dillon said. “Is Hannah Bernstein well?”

“Oh, yes. I like that one, a lady of parts.”

“And then some. Let her go. Take me.”

“And why should I?”

“Oh, I’ve been honing my talents since the old days. I can fly a plane, Jack, but I’m also the best damn diver you ever saw. I even blew up PLO boats in Beirut harbor for the Israelis.”

“You little rascal.” Barry laughed. “No, Sean, she’s too valuable to hand over just yet, too useful.”

“God help us then, I’ll just have to come along for the ride.”

“A nice thought, but let’s check you out first.” Barry prodded his Browning. “Check his pockets, Kevin.” Stringer did as he was told and found the Walther.

“Satisfied?” Dillon asked.

“When was I ever?” Barry smiled. “Under his jacket and against his back, Kevin, he always favored that position.”

Stringer found the second Walther. “You’re right, Jack,” and he handed it over.

“I usually am,” Barry told him. “You hold the fort, Kevin.” He smiled up at Dillon. “In you get, Sean. I think I’ll put you to work.”

DILLON WENT OVER the rail first and Barry handed the line to Mori and followed. The two women came out of the wheelhouse. Dillon said to Hannah, “Are you all right, girl dear?”