Rain on the Dead (13 page)

—

It was companionable enough in the parlor. Tod drank his tea, his mind obviously still on what he’d just heard. “So here we are. You’ve not come to lift us, Sean?”

“According to the official story, you’ve done nothing, and Jake Cazalet is alive and well to prove it.”

Kelly said, “For God’s sake, will you tell him how it all happened, Tod?”

“Why not?” Tod shrugged. “Like we all do, I knew of the existence of al-Qaeda, but I’d never had any kind of dealing with the Master until he came on the phone and waved a big payday at me.”

What he went through was a reasonably honest account of what had gone on on Nantucket. When he was finished, Harry said, “So the moment you heard who was arriving for dinner with Cazalet, you dumped the Chechens and headed for home?”

“That’s it. Doesn’t bother me in the slightest. They were lunatics.”

“Never mind that,” Dillon said. “It’s the woman who interests me, the one that even the Chechens didn’t know about, who followed them into Cazalet’s garden and witnessed the attack. Can you tell me any more about her?”

“The Master described her as a woman sympathetic to our cause, that’s all I can say.”

There was silence for a moment, and Billy said, “What a story. You’d have difficulty improving on that.”

“Actually, I can,” Tod said. “After Dillon’s call referring to Nantucket, I called the Master with the happy news.”

“And how did he take it?”

“Wanted me to dispose of Ferguson and any of you who turned up here, pointed out that the Bog of Salam is close by. He also tried to bribe me by saying I could keep the quarter million dollars I owe him and offering to give me the names of the two men who were responsible for the car bomb that killed my brother.”

“Did he?” Dillon asked.

“No, and as I’d taken his call in the stable, Hannah overheard it and told him what she thought of al-Qaeda, which wasn’t much.”

“And what was his response to that?” Harry Salter put in.

“He threatened her life, which was a stupid thing to do, because it now means that I’ll have to kill him the first chance I get.”

“Which isn’t very likely,” Dillon said. “Meeting him, I mean, but I know how you feel.”

Meg had sat there without a word, but she spoke now. “Hannah’s got a week to sign in at the Royal. How can she be left there on her own?”

“We’ll sort it,” Tod said. “I’ll be her shadow.”

“Well, I can tell you now, she won’t fancy that.”

“We’ll get a decent place for her, that quarter of a million dollars will see to that.” He turned to the others. “Come and see the stables. We’ve got some fine horses this year.” They all got up to go.

“You’ll excuse me, the kitchen calls,” Meg said, and left.

But as the men were walking around to the stud stables, Hannah emerged on Fancy and Sara on a white mare. They both wore Australian drover’s coats and broad-brimmed hats.

“It’s going to rain,” Tod told them.

“I know, that’s why we’re dressed for it,” Hannah told him, and they cantered away.

—

The Jeep had arrived much earlier than expected at roughly the same time as the Land Rover. High on the hill were a few ancient stone walls and a copse offering shelter. Tully had been reading a tourist handbook of the area, purchased in Castletown.

He peered down into the valley below. “The Great Bog of Salam. The things these turnipheads believe. It says here:
To be avoided at all times.
”

“Well, that seems sensible to me.” Bell turned in the other direction to Drumgoole Place below. “Very nice, I must say, you have to admire that. Tod Flynn has done well for himself.”

Tully said, “Well, this is payback day, but what’s that big silver vehicle driving toward the house?”

“A Land Rover,” Bell told him, and at that moment saw Hannah, mounted on Fancy, much lower down the hill. She looked toward the Land Rover, took out her mobile, spoke into it, then she turned the horse and galloped back down to the house.

Bell took great care reversing into the trees of the copse and checked to confirm that the Jeep was hidden from view. Then he produced a pair of high-powered Nikon binoculars and put them to use.

“That’s Tod, his aunt Meg, Kelly, and the niece Hannah, still in riding breeches,” he said, focusing on the front door as they emerged.

“By God, I’d like to have those off her,” Tully said.

Bell ignored him and turned to the Land Rover. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He watched for a long moment as Dillon and the others got out, was stunned at the sight of them. “I don’t believe it!”

“Believe what?” Tully asked.

“Those photos we got have just come to life stepping out of that Land Rover. There’s Sean Dillon, the Gideon woman, Harry Salter, and his nephew, Billy. All Ferguson’s people.”

Tully shook his head. “That isn’t possible.”

Bell handed over the binoculars. “See for yourself.”

Tully watched as the greetings took place below and everyone moved into the house. He turned to Bell. “What’s going on, Frank, it doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s just what I’m going to find out,” Bell told him, and led the way back to the Jeep, where he climbed inside, retrieved the mobile, and punched the button as Tully followed him.

The Master answered at once. “Who is this?”

“Well, I’m not sure anymore,” Bell said. “We’re established here on the hill overlooking Drumgoole Place, where we’ve been privileged to watch a Land Rover drive up and disgorge Sean Dillon, and Captain Sara Gideon, plus Harry Salter and nephew. They’ve now gone inside after a warm welcome from Tod Flynn and family.”

There was a slight pause, unlike his usual behavior, then the Master said, “A warm welcome, you say?”

“Absolutely. The men hugged each other, the women kissed. Happy families time, as far as we could see. What’s going on? Is there something you haven’t told us? What are Charles Ferguson’s four best operatives doing here?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” the Master lied, cursing the fact that Ferguson had moved a lot faster than he had anticipated. “It appears that my information was incorrect this time. I assume Dillon and his friends will be armed to the teeth. In the circumstances, the sensible choice would be to leave them to it. We’ll discuss the possibility of further action at a later date.”

“And here’s me thinking you were infallible,” Bell told him. “What a disappointment. The thing I hate is wasting my time, so we’ll hang on for a couple of hours. There’s a chance we can get by here, parked in the trees. The Flynns and their guests are probably enjoying lunch. Remember, I’ve got my rifle. If I wait until they
step out of the front door again, I could probably knock off three or even four of them, before they knew what was happening.”

“You’d be taking a chance. The odds are stacked against you.”

“Just the way I like it,” and Bell switched off.

“So what do we do?” Tully asked.

“We wait as long as we can get away with it. Get the fishing tackle out and lean the rods against the Jeep, that sort of thing. Lucky we got all those sandwiches at the pub in Castletown.”

“That’s true,” Tully said, “And plenty of booze in the storage locker.”

“Well, go easy on that, I know you,” Bell told him. “If it ain’t going to work, then that’s the end of it. Two hours tops, and if there’s no kind of movement, we’re out of it.”

—

Dillon snatched a chance to bring Holland Park up to date. “Is Ferguson around?” he asked Roper, whom he had called.

“He was for a while, handling the business of Hamid Bey’s visit to Rosedene.”

“How did that go?”

Roper told him in some detail. “I’ve got a strong feeling that the imam is al-Qaeda to the core.”

“Should I be surprised? Sister Lily’s husband was, that’s common knowledge.”

“True, but all my reports indicate that people speak nothing but good about her. Having said that, it’s fascinating what Tod Flynn had to say about the Master’s lady, sympathetic to the Cause, who witnessed the entire assassination attempt. Could it be Lily Shah?”

Dillon said, “It would need a tough lady to carry that through, but it’s worth keeping an eye on her.”

“I agree,” Roper said. “Can I notify Ferguson that Flynn and company are on our side?”

“Yes. For many reasons, but the threat to Hannah Flynn was enough on its own. You’ll like her.”

“I’m sure I will. Term starts in three and a half weeks. They’ll expect her on day one like everyone else. Is that a problem?”

“There’s a question of her security, where should she stay, that kind of thing. It all needs serious consideration. She and Sara have bonded already.”

“I can imagine they would,” Roper said. “They’ve got a lot in common. You get surprisingly used to disability, even when the pain is constant. Sara discovered that a long time ago. I hope Hannah has. If not, the relationship could be good for her.”

“You frequently astonish me, Giles,” Dillon told him.

“Stop it now, Sean, I’m beginning to sound maudlin,” Roper said. “Off you go.”

—

Up on the hill, Bell had moved into a position where a couple of boulders offered some concealment that gave him a clear view of the house and the front entrance and the courtyard. He lay there, the rifle on the ground beside him, the Browning pistol tucked into the front pouch of his anorak. He had been watching for an hour with no movement below.

Suddenly, Tully called out loudly. “How much longer? What the bloody hell is going on?”

Bell got up, went back into the trees, and discovered Tully standing beside the Jeep, the Mac 10 in the crook of his left arm. He was drinking from a bottle and the distinctive smell of whiskey said it all.

“What are you playing at? You’re drunk, you damn fool. God save us, but you never change, Fergus.” He slapped him across the face. “Just like the old days. It’s always you who has to go and cock up a good thing.”

Tully staggered, almost falling, clutching the Mac 10 in both hands now. “Keep your damn hands to yourself or I’ll blow you away.”

“So who would you get to drive you back to Belfast, you shite? You’re too drunk to do it yourself, that’s for sure. Get back to the Jeep, we’re leaving. I’ll get my rifle and we’re out of here.”

He turned back to the boulders, and Tully cried drunkenly, “No, don’t be like that, Frank,” and went after him.

Bell leaned down to pick up the Lee Enfield and saw Hannah and Sara Gideon cross the yard, passing Dillon standing in the front door, watching Billy astride the Montesa, talking to Tod. It seemed a golden opportunity to strike, then Hannah and Sara emerged from the stables, cantered across the yard, and urged their mounts up the track.

Tully lurched forward, mesmerized. “Would you look at that?”

Bell pulled him out of sight. “Get back to the Jeep. Just do as you’re told and we might get somewhere with this.” He punched him hard. “Go on, do it!” he ordered.

As Tully stumbled away, Bell turned back with his rifle, but at that very moment, Hannah charged from around the boulders and brushed him to one side, so that he dropped the gun. Sara followed, knocking Bell down again, and was so close that she recognized
him as he tried to stand up. She swerved her mount, raised a booted foot, and stamped him in the face.

Hannah called, “Follow me!”

Tully shouted in anger, ran a few yards, aiming the Mac 10, stumbled and fired into the ground. Sara, gripping her reins tightly in one hand, pulled out her Colt .25 and fired as she moved past, catching him on the side of the face, the hollow-point bullet tearing his cheek open.

Hannah swerved close to her. “Follow the track; we’ll circle and try to keep out of the way until help comes. I see they’ve got a Jeep parked in the copse. If they want to chase us, you’ll know how good they are over rough country.”

At that moment, Sara’s mobile buzzed and she fished it out of her breast pocket. It was Dillon. “Sara, what’s going on?”

“Frank Bell and Tully are parked up here in a Jeep. They tried to grab us, I shot Tully, who loosed off a Mac 10 into the ground as he fell. He’s up again now.”

“Billy and Tod are coming up fast on the Montesa as we speak. The rest of us will try to get as close as we can in the Land Rover.”

—

Grabbing Tully by the collar, Bell pulled him up, ran him to the Jeep, yanked him into the rear, grabbed a towel from a locker, and shoved it into his hand. “Hold that against your face and shut up. I’m going to get those two bitches.”

He scrambled behind the wheel, switched on the engine, and burst out of the trees, aware of Hannah and Sara galloping away. He went after them at high speed, driving one-handed while he called the Master.

“Where are you, what’s happening?” the Master demanded.

“Tully got pissed out of his mind,” Bell said. “A bad habit of his. Tried to have a go at the women, tripped and fired the machine pistol into the ground, which must have alerted them at the house. The Gideon woman shot him in the face. He’s bleeding all over the backseat now. I’m chasing after them, but I can see a bike in my rearview mirror coming up fast, and Ferguson’s people aren’t in the habit of taking prisoners.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes, tell Myra Tully that they were responsible for the death of her father. She won’t like that, so she could be exactly what you’re looking for. As far as you’re concerned, I hope you get your reward in hell, you bastard.”

He rammed his foot down hard. The distance between him and the girls diminished rapidly. Driving one-handed, he reached out of the side window and fired his Browning to little effect as they turned off the track. As he bumped across rough country, the Montesa closed on him, and in his large rearview mirror he saw that Tod Flynn, seated on the pillion, was using Billy’s right shoulder to steady his aim.

It worked. Fergus Tully took a bullet in the head that drove him forward across the passenger seat, two more through the windshield. The final round was like a hammer blow high in the back, next to the spine, and had Frank Bell rearing in his seat in agony.

The Jeep rolled to a halt at the very edge of the scree of loose stones on the rim of the slope that slid down into the bog. Tod got off the pillion of the Montesa and walked forward as Billy raised it on its stand. Hannah and Sara sat their horses, not speaking, just
watching, like figures in some medieval morality play. There was the sound of distant thunder across the valley and it started to rain.