Part 23 (1/2)

”How did things go in Boston?”

”Much as you'd expect. It was Was.h.i.+ngton that was the disappointment.” He told him about it, finis.h.i.+ng, ”And he made it clear Ferguson agrees with him.”

”Well, we'll see about that. I'm my own man, and always have been. I'll see you in the morning and we'll discuss it.”

”I'm going for a run in Hyde Park at seven-thirty. Have breakfast with me at nine.”

”It's a date,” and Dillon put down the phone.

He woke early the next morning and, looking at the clock, realized he had time to join Quinn on the run. He got up, dressed in a tracksuit, went downstairs, found his helmet, opened the mews garage, and drove away on the Suzuki.

On the way to Park Place, he thought about the Telecom van that Quinn had mentioned and wondered about the best way to handle that. Possibly an anonymous call to the police. Simple and direct.

He turned into South Audley Street from Grosvenor Square and, as he moved toward Park Place, Quinn emerged and darted across the road. A moment later, Cook and Newton, in tracksuits, showed up and followed him. Dillon cursed, swerved into Park Place, and turned in through Quinn's gates. He pulled the Suzuki up on its stand, reached into the right-hand saddlebag, lifted the secret flap at the bottom, and found his Walther. He slipped it into the right-hand pocket of his tracksuit and went after them, running fast.

Quinn crossed Park Lane using the underpa.s.s, ran up the steps on the other side, and entered Hyde Park, followed by Newton and Cook, but Dillon, pressing hard, was not far behind.

It was a misty morning, with a light drizzle. Half a dozen soldiers of the Household Cavalry cantered by, exercising their mounts, and there was the odd solitary rider. Quinn cut across the gra.s.s toward the trees. The mist was thicker there and there was no one about.

He heard a sudden rush of feet behind him and, as he turned, Newton shouldered him, sending him staggering. He fell to one knee and Cook kicked him in the chest. Quinn rolled over and managed to get to his feet as Cook ran in again. It all came back, the tricks of the trade, and he blocked Cook's punches, wrestled and threw him over his hip. Newton moved in from behind and slid an arm around his neck. Quinn dropped to his knees and turned over, tossing Newton over his head.

And then they were on their feet, both of them facing him. ”Right, mate,” Cook said. ”This is where you get done.”

And then there was a shot, the sound flat on the damp air, and Dillon arrived, Walther in hand. ”I don't think so.” He moved close. ”Who put you up to this? Dauncey?”

”Get stuffed,” Cook said.

Dillon kicked him between the legs, sending him down, turned to Newton, grabbed him by the front of his tracksuit, and held the Walther against his left ear.

”You have two choices. Number one, I blow your ear off. Number two, you tell me who sent you.”

Newton panicked. ”Okay, okay, it was Dauncey.”

”There, wasn't that easy? I'd see to your friend if I were you, then report in and tell him Dillon was here.” He chuckled. ”Though I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when he finds out you've blown it.” He nodded to Quinn. ”Let's get out of here,” and they jogged away.

At about the same time Newton and Cook were reporting the sad news to Dauncey, Quinn and Dillon confronted Ferguson at Cavendish Place. Hannah had just arrived in response to a call from Ferguson and was in time to hear what had taken place, both at the Priory and in the park.

Dillon finished his story and smiled. ”So we know where we are. War to the knife.”

”That's as may be,” Ferguson told him, ”but we still can't prove a thing. Dauncey will deny any relations.h.i.+p to those men.”

”I couldn't care less,” Quinn said. ”This isn't about the law, Charles. It's about what we know and what we do about it.”

”The President has spoken to me, you know.” Ferguson shrugged. ”You're on your own in this.”

”No, he's not. He's got me,” Dillon said.

”Then you no longer work for me,” Ferguson told him calmly. ”I'd think it over.”

”I have.” Dillon turned to Quinn. ”Let's go, Senator.”

Afterwards, Hannah said, ”Are you sure about this, sir?”

”Only that Dillon will go to work with his usual ruthlessness.”

”And that suits you?”

He smiled at her. ”Admirably.”

13.

LATER IN THE DAY, DAUNCEY LUNCHED WITH KATE RAs.h.i.+D and told her with annoyance about the events of that morning.

She shook her head. ”What is this, the third time, Rupert? Either Quinn has a charmed life or we're seriously going to have to reexamine our way of doing business.” She gave him a pointed look, but then she smiled. ”But right now, I really don't care. Quinn was just the sideshow. The main event is about to begin.”

”What do you mean?”

”I've heard from Barry Keenan. Colum McGee has arranged a meet.”

”Where?”

”Drumcree, in three days' time. We'll go over Thursday afternoon, stay at the Europa, and drive down to Drumcree Friday morning. If things go well, we should be able to fly back from Aldergrove that evening.”

”And is that when you're finally going to tell me what you're up to?”

”Absolutely, darling.”

At the same time, Dillon and Quinn were ringing the bell at Regency Square. The door clicked open, and they found Roper at work as usual.

”I was just going to get in touch with you,” he told Dillon. ”Ras.h.i.+d and Dauncey are flying to Thursday afternoon. They're staying at the Europa and coming back Friday evening.”

”You think this is important?” Quinn asked Dillon.

”I don't know. It could just be business, but the last time I was in Ireland with Kate Ras.h.i.+d, she was hiring the IRA. We'll fly out before her and see where she goes. Maybe I'll even show you the delights of City.”

”Now that you've finished, could I get a word in?” Roper said.

”About what?”

”It so happens I know know where she's going. I know I'm a simple soul, but it seemed logical to me that they would have some company cars, and I found it in their database: a chauffeur, name of Hennesy, and his Volvo. He'll be driving them around.” where she's going. I know I'm a simple soul, but it seemed logical to me that they would have some company cars, and I found it in their database: a chauffeur, name of Hennesy, and his Volvo. He'll be driving them around.”

”You clever b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”

”No, I'm a brilliant b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I remember about your involvement with Ras.h.i.+d and Aidan Bell and the IRA last year...and that the name Drumcree figured largely.”

”Jesus,” Dillon said. ”Don't tell me...”

”Oh, but I am am telling you. Hennesy picks her and Dauncey up at the Europa at nine-thirty Friday morning and proceeds to the Royal George at Drumcree. That's a strange name for a pub in the IRA heartland.” telling you. Hennesy picks her and Dauncey up at the Europa at nine-thirty Friday morning and proceeds to the Royal George at Drumcree. That's a strange name for a pub in the IRA heartland.”