Flyaway

The French-speaker switched to English. 'You come out here.' A door slammed and Kissack's feet came into view. 'If you think I'm going into that flea-ridden kennel you're mistaken.' The tone was distasteful and the accent standard BBC grade announcer's English.

'Hello, Lash,' said Kissack.

'Don't hello me,' said Lash acidly. 'And it's Mr Lash 'to you.' He went back into French. 'You lot get lost for the next half-hour but then be findable.'

'How about the restaurant?' someone asked.

That's all right – but stay there so I can find you.' Three men went away and the door slammed. Lash said, 'Now just what in hell have you been doing, Kissack?'

'Just doing what I was told,' said Kissack sullenly.

'Like hell you have!' said Lash explosively. 'There's a contract out on Billson and he's still alive. Why?'

'Christ I don't know,' said Kissack. 'He should be dead. I shot him in some of the most God-awful country you've ever seen. He couldn't have walked out.'

'So he was helped, and the next thing is someone is advertising for that bloody aeroplane. Advertising, by God!

Leaflets all over the bloody desert! The idea, Kissack, was not to draw attention to that aeroplane but, because you're ham-fisted, everybody and his bloody Arab uncle is looking for it.'

'That's not my fault,' yelled Kissack. 'I didn't know about Byrne.'

'He's the man who put out the leaflets?'

'Yes. He's a sodding Yank who's gone native.'

'I'm not going to stand here and fry my brains out,' said Lash. 'Get in the car.'

The Range-Rover rocked on its springs as they got in, and I took the opportunity of easing my position because a stone was digging into my hip. The arrival of Lash changed everything. Kissack having failed twice had sent for reinforcements – and the boss had arrived. From what I heard, Lash was certainly more incisive than Kissack.

And I could still hear them because they had the windows down. Lash said, 'When we heard about the leaflets I told you to stay put in Agadez. So what happens? I arrive to find you've gone into the damned desert. Then we get a message that Bailly's been in a motor smash. What happened to him?'

'It wasn't a smash,' said Kissack. He told Lash of how he had ambushed us. 'I had them nailed down, all but one who got away – and I reckoned he couldn't get far on foot. They didn't have a chance. Then Bailly started to scream his bloody head off.'

'What happened?'

'Christ knows! This Arab did something to him. What or how I don't know, but he's going to lose his foot. There was Bailly wriggling around on the sand and yelling fit to bust, and the Arab was dodging away among the dunes. We chased him a bit but he got away.'

'You were scared,' said Lash flatly.

'You'd be bloody scared if you'd seen what he did to Bailly,' Kissack retorted. 'He wouldn't stop screaming. I had to slug him to shut him up.'

'So then you put him in this car and brought him to Bilma. Kissack, you're stupid.'

'What else was there to do?'

'You could have killed Bailly to shut him up and then attended to the others. You said you had them nailed down.'

'Jesus, you…' Kissack's voice caught. 'You're a cold-hearted bastard.'

'I'm a realist,' said Lash. 'Now, who were these men you were shooting at?'

'One of them was Byrne, the Yank who got out the leaflets. He spun me a yarn back in Agadez but I saw through it. Another I'm pretty sure was Billson. The other two were Arabs.'

'Arabs or Tuareg?'

'Who cares? They're all the same to me.'

'I repeat, and I don't like repeating myself – you're stupid, Kissack. Did they wear veils?'

'Byrne did – and one of the others. The one who did for Bailly had no veil.' There was a pause while Lash digested that, and Kissack said defensively, 'What's the difference? Christ, I hate this bloody desert.'

'Shut up!' Lash was silent for a while, then said, 'What happened to them?'

'I don't know. They aren't here. I shot up that Toyota pretty good; got three of the tyres. And no one is going to walk out of all that sodding sand out there, Mr Lash.'

'You said that before about Billson, and you were wrong.' Lash was contemptuous. 'And I'm betting you're wrong again because you're stupid. Before I flew down from Algiers I took the trouble to find out about this American, Byrne. He's b een in the desert thirty-five years, Kissack. The Algerians don't like him much but he has friends with political clout so he still hangs around. Anyway, he spends most of his time here in Niger. If you didn't kill him, then I'm saying he's going to get out because he knows how. Did you kill him?'

'No,' said Kissack sullenly.

'Tomorrow you take me and show me that shot-up Toyota. If it's not there you're going to wish you were Bailly.'

'It'll be there, Mr Lash. I know where I put the bullets.'

'Don't bet on it,' said Lash coldly. 'Because I'm assuming it's not there. Now I told you to stay in Agadez and wait for me. Why the hell didn't you?'

Kissack had an access of courage. 'Remember what you said when you came in here. You said there was a contract out on Billson and you asked why he was still alive. I, was just doing the job.'

'Good God Almighty!' said Lash violently. 'Those bloody leaflets changed all that. Even a cretin like you should have realized that. Whether Billson is alive or dead, that plane is going to be found now. If it is, then my principal is going to be up a gum tree and he's not going to like that.'

'If I'd got Byrne there'd be nobody to give the reward. That's why I had a crack at him.'

'I don't deal in damned ifs,' snapped Lash. 'I want certainties. And you're wrong. If that crashed plane is worth maybe a thousand pounds to Byrne, then anyone who finds it will figure it's worth something to someone else, whether Byrne is around or not. I tell you, that plane is going to be found and talked about.'

'What's so bloody special about it?' asked Kissack.

'None of your business.' Lash fell silent. Presently he said, 'Any idea why Byrne and Billson suddenly took off in this direction? Do you know where they were going?'

'I didn't ask.'

'Working in the dark as usual,' said Lash acidly. 'Now this is how we work it from now on. I'm betting that Byrne and Billson are still around – so we find them. And when we do you don't lay a bloody finger on them. What's more, if they're in trouble you get them out of it. Understand?'

'Hell! One minute you want to know why they're not dead, and the next you want me to pick 'em up and dust 'em off.' Kissack was disgusted.

Lash was heavily patient. 'We don't know where that plane is, do we? But Byrne might have a good idea by now – he's the one who's been advertising for it. So we let him find it and, if necessary, we help him. Then, when we've got Byrne, Billson and the plane all in one place…'

'Bingo!' said Kissack.

'And I'll be along to see you don't make a balls-up of it,' said Lash. 'Now, is there anything else you think I ought to know? It doesn't matter how insignificant it is.'

'Can't think of anything, except there's been some funny rumours going round Tammanrasset.'

'What rumours?'

'Well, I heard that Billson was in some sort of hospital jail in Tarn. But he couldn't be, could he? Not if he was in the Ten6re.'

'When did you hear this?'

'Today – in the restaurant. A British tourist travelling with a German crowd was shooting his mouth off. Billson dead of exposure, Billson alive with a bullet in him, Billson alive and in jail. But all just rumours, this chap Stafford said.'

'What!'.

'He said they were just rumours; nothing certain.'

'What did you say the name was?'