Edge of Danger (21 page)

‘So, he’ll come to the funeral?’

‘He’ll come to his death as far as I’m concerned.’

Dillon sat on the steps of the monument, smoking a cigarette, and after a while, the disposal team arrived.

Dauncey Place

Blake went home the following morning. Bell vanished off the face of the earth. Dillon visited Rosedene and found Ferguson with his left arm in a sling by Hannah’s bed.

‘How are you?’ Dillon asked.

‘I’ve been better.’

Dillon turned to Hannah. ‘And you?’

‘I’ll survive. General Ferguson has filled me in. So, you killed Bell?’

‘You sound disapproving. For God’s sake, woman, he tried to kill us.’ He smiled. ‘Ah, I see it now. You’re not in favour of capital punishment.’

‘Damn you, Dillon. The General says you told Rashid you’d attend the funerals of his brothers tomorrow.’

‘So? You told me he’d challenge me. I figured I’d just challenge him first.’

‘You stupid man. I told you, he’s crazy. He’ll do anything to finish you off now.’

‘And as I’ve told you many times, Hannah, I just may be crazy, too.’

‘I really don’t think you should do it, Dillon,’ Ferguson said. ‘In fact, that’s an order.’

Dillon said, ‘And if I say no, what will you do, lock me up in Wandsworth Prison?’

‘I could. Your past record condemns you.’

‘Really? When you got me out of a Serbian prison, blackmailed me to come and be your enforcer, the important part of the deal was that my IRA slate would be wiped clean. Now, in effect, you tell me no. If you’re serious, all I can say is that Billy Salter may be a gangster, but he’s got a grip on morality that’s far better than yours.’ He reached over and kissed Hannah on the cheek. ‘God bless, girl, and take care. As for Rashid wanting me dead, well, the British Army wanted that for long enough and I’m still here.’ He nodded to Ferguson. ‘You know where to get me if that’s what you want to do. Otherwise I’ll go down to Dauncey tomorrow to that funeral. I’ll give Rashid his chance.’

He turned and went out.

Hannah said, ‘Are you going to have him banged up, sir?’

‘Of course not.’ Ferguson sighed. ‘I just wanted to see if I could bluff him out of it. These past eight or nine years, I’ve grown rather fond of him. You, too, I think.’

‘You could say that, sir, but I’d appreciate it if you’d promise not to tell him.’

‘Of course, my dear. Now, as I’m feeling perfectly wretched, I think I’ll go home,’

Paul and Kate Rashid went into the Dauncey Arms at lunchtime. Betty Moody was behind the bar and all the usual locals were there. Everyone stood up.

Rashid said, ‘No, my friends, sit down. Get a drink for everyone, Betty, but I’m hungry as a hunter. Whatever you’ve got.’

There were tears in her eyes. She reached and touched his face. ‘Oh, Paul,’ and then Kate was crying, too, and Betty took her hand and lifted the bar flap. ‘You stop snivelling, girl. I’ve told you that since you first learned to listen. Come and do some useful work in the kitchen.’

Later, they ate, she opened a bottle of champagne for them and they sat by the fire.

‘Tomorrow,’ she said hesitantly. ‘The funerals. You haven’t said much.’

‘Service at the church is eleven thirty. We’re scaling it down this time, Betty. No general invitation like the last time. The villagers are welcome, though. You could do us a buffet here at the pub. We don’t want a fuss. I don’t even want staff at the house after the funeral.’

‘Whatever you want, Paul, leave it with me.’ She moved away. Kate said, ‘Will he come?’ ‘Oh, yes, he’ll come,’ her brother said. ‘I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.’

Dillon called in on Harry at the Rosedene and found him propped up in bed, Dora hovering, the epitome of the barmaid turned nurse.

‘Watch it,’ Dillon told her. ‘If you keep doing such a good job, the old bugger might decide to marry you.’

Her eyes gleamed. Harry said, ‘Don’t give her ideas above her station!’ He slapped Dora’s bottom. ‘Go and find me a bottle of Scotch, there’s a good girl.’

She went out. Dillon said, ‘You think you’ve got her, but she’s got you by your bits and pieces, Harry. Mind you, you’re a lucky sod. She’s actually a damn nice woman and she’d kill for you.’

‘You don’t need to tell me.’ ‘Then treat her right.’

Salter looked at him. ‘Why do I get the impression you’re not exactly on top of the world?’

‘Ah, well, we all have our ups and downs. I’ve seen Hannah. You know how it is. She loves me and hates me and worries about me.’

‘You’re going to do something stupid,’ Harry said. ‘Christ, Dillon, you really are going down to Dauncey to that double funeral tomorrow.’

‘It’s a challenge, Harry. He wants to face me. I killed his two brothers. He’s entitled.’

‘You know what, my old son, that sounds like a death wish to me. Are you thinking of pulling Billy in? There isn’t anybody else.’

‘No. I’m going to drop in at the Dark Man and have a bite to eat, but Billy’s done enough. You know, Harry, he calls himself my younger brother, and in a way that’s what he’s become. I’m not putting him in harm’s way again. I won’t ask him to go to Dauncey tomorrow. For all I know, the Earl could set the dogs on us.’

‘So you’re going to go down there wearing a black suit and stand in the congregation at the Dauncey parish church?’ ‘It has to be done, Harry.’

‘Well, that’s nice, isn’t it? Just when I was willing to accept you as Billy’s older brother, you’re going to put your head on the chopping block.’

Dillon got up. ‘Harry, you’re a diamond, and so is Billy, but there comes a time …’

‘Yes, I know. When a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. John Wayne, rest in peace.’ Dora came in with a bottle of Scotch. Harry said, ‘Go on, clear off, Dillon, you’re making me angry.’

Dillon went. Harry sat there, absentmindedly fondling Dora’s rear, then reached for the bedside phone and rang his nephew’s mobile. Billy was at the Cable Wharf office.

‘Listen, Dillon’s just left me. He said he was going to call in and have a bite of lunch with you. As you know, Rashid’s burying his brothers at Dauncey church tomorrow, and Dillon’s determined to go and face up to him. Like some kind of Gunfight at the OK Corral. What’s more, he’s going to go on his own.’

Billy said, ‘No way. If he goes, I go with him. I know you might not approve.’

‘Actually, Billy, I’m proud of you, only don’t tell him. Just say he’s stupid. We’ll let him go, then catch up later.’

‘You say we?’

‘Billy, even with Dora, I can’t be here for ever. At least I can give you moral support. We’ll follow Dillon down.’

At the Dark Man, trade was busy, with plenty of cars parked on Cable Wharf. It was raining on the river again, that season of the year. Dillon found an old umbrella in the Mini Cooper’s boot, put it up, lit a cigarette and walked for a while.

He was strangely melancholy, a feeling that he was somehow at the end of things. He didn’t hate Paul Rashid, and Kate, as most men would have to admit, he admired tremendously. He had killed many times over the years. It was his nature. He’d excused himself by claiming the death of his father, caught in the middle of a firefight in a Belfast Street between IRA members and British paratroopers.

But what if it really was his nature, his father’s death only an excuse? What did that say about him? He could argue that, in his way, he’d been a soldier for years, but could he condemn Rashid and not condemn himself? The only difference between them, the thing that really was unacceptable, was Cornet Bronsby’s appalling death.

He lit another cigarette, slightly morose and

depressed. ‘Oh, to hell with it. What’s getting into me?’

At that moment, he was hailed from the door of the pub and turned to find Billy running toward him. He ducked under the umbrella.

‘What are you trying to do, drown yourself?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Oh, I see, a bad hair day. Let’s all feel sorry for Sean Dillon.’

‘Go to hell,’ Dillon told him.

‘Yes, well, you need some Dark Man food in you, and a drink. I mean, you’re an older guy. You can’t go through what we have in the last few weeks and come out of it as fresh as I do.’

Dillon laughed out loud. ‘You cheeky young sod.’

‘That’s better.’

He led the way inside, where the bar was busy, but Baxter and Hall had the end booth. Billy and Dillon found them, and Billy said, ‘Scarper, you two, we’ve got things to discuss. Tell the bird at the bar to bring us a bottle of Bollinger, two glasses and some Irish stew.’

The Irishman said, ‘What is this, be nice to Dillon week?’

‘Come off it. You killed Rashid’s two brothers,

and now he wants your balls and expects you to go to Dauncey tomorrow and face up to him, Superintendent Bernstein said, and for some reason, you want to give him his chance. He’s the one who’s crazy.’

‘And maybe me, too, Billy, like I said.’ ‘Bollocks. I’ve never known when you didn’t know exactly what you’re doing. You speak several languages, you can fly any kind of plane, you’re a master diver. Harry told me all about it. You were the one who challenged Rashid -and now you’ve got this daft idea you’re going to do it on your own. Well, I won’t let you. I told Harry that.’

‘He must have loved that.’ ‘Actually, he approved. He told me to let you go, then he and I would follow you down. “Moral support” was a phrase he used.’

One of the young girls behind the bar brought a bucket of ice, Bollinger and glasses. Dillon nodded to Baxter and Hall at the bar, drinking beer. ‘A glass each for those two.’ ‘You’re so considerate,’ Billy said. ‘I’ll show you how considerate I can be. I’m actually going to give you your wish, Billy. You can walk down the street with me just like in

a bad movie. I’ll supply Walthers and titanium waistcoats, because he means it, Billy. Like Hannah Bernstein said, he couldn’t live with me alive. He’d love getting you, too.’

‘I know,’ Billy said. ‘But I’m going to cover your back.’

‘There’s only one thing, Billy. Ferguson knows I’m going and won’t stop me, but Harry, as much as he may joke about it, really is getting older. I don’t want him worrying about you.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘You phone him late tonight at the Rosedene and tell him Ferguson’s had me put in the nick to stop me doing anything stupid. You and I can clear off for Dauncey in the morning. You provide the limousine. The service is at eleven thirty. Will you do it that way?’

‘He’ll never forgive me, but yes, I will.’

Dillon toasted him. ‘Cheers, as you say in the East End, and Billy, try and make it a black suit. I will.’

‘The undertaker look?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Terrific’ The girl brought Irish stew. ‘I can’t wait,’ Billy said, and called Joe Baxter and Sam Hall to him. ‘Joe, I need the Jaguar first thing

in the morning. Dillon and I are taking a run down into the country. The Rashid place, Dauncey, so wear a chauffeur’s uniform. We’re going to a funeral.’

‘Whatever you say, Billy.’

Billy looked up at Hall. ‘You’ll have to take over for me at the warehouse, handle those black-market cigarettes from Calais. Now, another thing. I don’t want Harry to know, because if he does, he’ll want to come, so keep shtoom. He’s already taken one bullet.’

‘And we don’t want him to take another,’ Dillon

told them.

Baxter nodded. ‘So I’m the kind of chauffeur with a shooter in the glove compartment?’

‘Absolutely. This Rashid is bad news, you know the story, boys. Mind you, Joe, if you’d rather not…’ Billy said.

Baxter was outraged. ‘Don’t insult me, Billy. We’ve been together since we were seventeen.’

Billy kept eating his Irish stew. ‘If Harry checks on me, you say I’ve been called to Southampton about that booze consignment.’

Hall said, ‘He’ll go crackers when he finds out the truth, Billy.’

‘Yes, well, he’s gone crackers before. Dora will

calm him down, show him he’s still a man. Now don’t let me down. Go on, get something to eat.’

Dillon said, ‘So we’re into hard times again?’

‘Absolutely.’ Billy grinned. ‘You’ve changed my life, Dillon, persuaded me I have a brain. What was I before? Four no-big-deal prison sentences, a kind of gangster of the third rank. How many people have I killed now in circumstances you’ve pulled me into? As we said before, a life not put to the test is not worth living. I’ll con Harry about you later.’

‘As he would say, you young bastard.’

“I’ve got a great idea. I hear that fringe theatre the Old Red Lion, is doing this Brendan Behan play about the IRA called The Hostage.’

“A masterpiece.’

‘Great. Let’s go and see it. It’ll fill in the evening … and maybe I’ll learn something about you.’

‘You’re on,’ Dillon said.

As a performance, it was a huge success, and afterwards in the bar, they discussed and argued about the points Behan had made. Joe Baxter, who had driven them to the Old Red Lion and been forced to watch the play, sat there, bemused.

They dropped Dillon off at Stable Mews and Billy phoned Harry at Rosedene.

‘I hope I haven’t called too late?’

‘I can’t sleep, Billy. I’ve been in bed too long. Now what happened with Dillon? I expected you to get back to me.’

‘Well, I saw him for lunch at the pub and he was full of going down there, like you said, but there was a development this evening.’

‘What kind of development?’

‘Well, Ferguson warned him off going down to the funeral, and when Dillon wouldn’t promise to do as he was told, he had him lifted by Special Branch. Something about Dillon’s record with the IRA.’

‘But Ferguson had that wiped clean when Dillon agreed to work for him.’

‘Yes, well, he’s had him banged up.’ Billy warmed to his story. ‘They’ve got him at West End Central. At least they’ve got decent cells there.’

Harry Salter was outraged. ‘Bloody disgraceful. Ferguson gave his word to Dillon when he got him out of that Serb prison.’

‘Yes, well, he’s upper class, the General,’ Billy said. ‘It’s the class system, Harry. The country’s still riddled with it.’

‘And we’re supposed to be the bad guys?’ Harry was fuming. ‘Wait till I see Ferguson again, and I thought he was a true Brit.’