Read A Line in the Sand Online
Authors: Gerald Seymour
Fenton
there.
"What do I do? Lock him in the bloody broom cupboard?"
Fenton told him to get Perry's friends in and get the bottles out.
d to me, Mr.
"If you only listene
Fenton. The friends have all quit
the ship, they're jumping off the decks. All right, most of their friends. I'm planning to meet the vicar in the morning, seemed a
n. I thought if the village saw the vicar with him that
decent ma
might
conscience..."
spark some
him to take the Perrys out for the evening, splash out
Fenton told
on a
303
l, no expense spared, to sweet-talk them and relax them.
smart mea
'll do that, Mr.
"I
Fenton, I'll book a table for tonight for them
and
a busload of police should be a really jolly evening. I'm sorry to have troubled you at home... Maybe we can find a restaurant that
s
serve
goat."
boiled
Donna should have stayed the extra year at school. At eighteen she was
already as much on the shelf as the tins of beans, sweet corn and
k curries that she stacked at the supermarket in the town.
quick-coo
She
was trapped and she knew it. She wrote in a child's laborious hand for
jobs in hair salons and with beauticians, but most of her letters
were
ignored and a few were rejected in three lines. She was unskilled and
unqualified. In the village, only Meryl Perry had time for her and her the old magazines with which she could dream of smart salons
gave
and bright beauty shops where rich women would come to her for advice, about their private lives and offer her respect. Only the
gossip
Perrys cared enough to fuel the dream, and she broke the boredom of d her parents, for ever sitting in front of the blaring
home, an
television, with little pockets of relief when she stayed with
Stephen
while Frank and Meryl were out for an evening. They picked her up, they dropped her back, they gave her a small sense of importance.
in through the door, murmured his request to Davies, took
He came
a big
nd strode into the kitchen.
breath a
said brightly, "I think we need an evening out, Frank.
Markham
It's
to cheer ourselves up."
time for a splash on my masters' expenses,
Sausages were frying on the stove. The packet of instant mashed
potato
was ready at the side. Perry looked at him, astonished.
"We're going out, enough of being shut up in here. We're going out to
drink a restaurant dry, to murder their menu. No argument, no
tion, and I'm picking up the tab."
hesita
304
Perry asked, hesitant, "Where are we going at this time on a Sunday night, who'll have us?"
"We leave that to Bill. He's the expert, spends half his time getting his principals into restaurants that say they're full." He tried to
laugh.
Meryl asked, flat-voiced, "Who's going to look after Stephen?"
He turned and saw her blank, reddened eyes.
"I'm sure you've a regular babysitter. Let's get a call to her, we'll collect. Don't you worry about the detail, Mrs. Perry, just get
yourself ready and let us take the strain."
Perry said, "I'm not sure-' "Yes, you are, Mr. Perry. It's what's going to happen."
Meryl said, "I don't know that I want to go out."
"Yes, you do, Mrs. Perry. It's what's best."
He manipulated them, they danced for him. He had boasted to the man and woman at the bank that he was prepared to use people in the
interests of policy and here he was, doing it. Meryl Perry was
lifting
the frying pan off the cooker and muttering that the sausages would do
for tomorrow, and that she'd already fed Stephen. Perry was at the it for Donna's number.
telephone and scanning the list above
Bill Davies leaned through the doorway and said the local police had m the name of a place but it was twenty-two miles away and
given hi
they'd have to shift themselves. He'd called the restaurant and he'd d people to check it out. Markham thought she looked so
organize
cudgelled, so damned helpless. He asked her gently if she wanted
to
change, and wished that Harry bloody Fenton were here to see her.
Meryl
went out and he heard her deadened step up the stairs.
"Do you have a girl, Frank, to come in?"
two planks, but decent and loyal Meryl's been great to her
"Thick as
305
lled.
and she's fond of Stephen." Perry lifted the phone and dia
Two cars were pulling up outside Blake coming to take over inside
the
house and the change of shift for the hut. Markham drew a sigh of
: at least he had achieved something.
relief
His mind flipped back
to
ndon: the letter would be at his flat in the morning, with the terms Lo
of employment. He would ring Vicky later if they survived the meal and
ask her to go round and collect it,
of
to read it to him. Once he'd resigned they would boot him out
Thames House so fast his feet wouldn't touch the ground. How would it
be, a year later, ten years later, when he walked down the Embankment and went past the bullet-proof windows and the concrete bollards?
Would
he feel fulfilled, streaming with the commuter hordes into the City?
He had played God before, with agents' lives, and was playing God
now.
He wondered how it would be playing God with savers' investment
accounts and pension holdings. If he hadn't met Vicky, he would know sweet nothing about investments and pensions. He heard the anger
in
y's voice.
Frank Perr
do
"What
you mean, you're not coming? Is it you can't come, or won't?
It's nothing to do with your father, nothing to do with anyone but yourself. Listen here, we've been damn good to you. We're about
the
only bloody people in this place who have been. I thought better
of
you."
hand trembled as he tried to return the telephone to the
Perry's
wall-fitting. Then, he took a pen and scratched out Donna's name
and
number from the list on the wall. Over his shoulder, Markham could see
the list. Donna was inked out along with most of the others. There itifully few names and numbers left unscathed.
were p
kitchen door, Bill Davies took the radio away from his face.
At the
"Dave Paget and Joe Rankin will stay on. They've had kids
306
themselves,
d help the poor blighters. They can do child-minding.
Go
me down the stairs.
Meryl ca
es hadn't been red and puffed, Markham thought, she would
If her ey
have
lous. The poor damn woman had made the effort. He
looked marve
noticed
Davies take her hand and murmur something in her ear, but he
Bill
didn't catch what was said. When they'd gathered in the hall, the Paget and Rankin that there were sausages and mashed
detective told
potato on the stove for their supper. The two men, in their boiler and vests, with their pistols hanging from their waists,
suits
thanked
lly.
him balefu
came through the front door, carrying five fire extinguishers.
Blake
He
mped them down noisily, then went to the car again, retrieved a
du
heavyweight blanket from the boot with a box of gas grenades, and
back into the house.
staggered
Markham thought it predictable that
there should be more fire extinguishers inside, one for each room; the
additional bullet- and shrapnel-proof blanket was for draping over a
air to make a wider protective barrier; the gas grenades were
ch
standard. But he wished that Meryl Perry hadn't seen them.
She asked where Donna was, and was told.
n't given time to think about it.
She was
She was made to run to the
en car door, her heels clattering down the path. There was an
op
escort
front and another behind.
vehicle in
Their front windows were down
and
could see the machine-guns. Well done, Harry Fenton,
Markham
another
great idea. As he helped to hustle her through the gate and pitch her
into the car, he thought it was all, already, unravelling. Bill
Davies
came after him and seemed to be shielding Perry.
Markham drove. Beside him, the detective sat awkwardly because he'd ed his body so that his hand
twist
could rest free on the pistol in
307
his
holster. Off for a night out with friends well done, Harry
waist
bloody Fenton.
The helicopter had been over at last light, and Vabid Hossein had
gone
g after it
into the water at the first sound of its approach. Lon
had
the
disappeared he had returned to the marsh shore. He lay in
darkness
in the depth of the cover.
e policemen who watched the marsh, from the village side, on the
Th
higher ground of Hoist Covert and East Sheep Walk, had been replaced by
fresh men, and he had noted their positions.
The harrier was close to him but he could not see it, could only hear its movements as it scratched in the ground for the last scraps of meat.
The girl had come to the rendezvous point in the late afternoon,
bringing food and ointments for the bruising. She had been
withdrawn,
subdued. When he had told her what she should do the next day, she rgued.
hadn't a
was curled up on his side in the bramble thicket to keep the weight He
.
of his body off the bruising
The skin was bared at his waist and
hip,
and he could feel the soothing cool of the ointments.
He'd thought
she
o smooth on the ointments herself and he'd refused her.
wanted t
He
could not allow himself to be dependent on a woman. He heard the
f the bird and tried to shut from his memory the softness
sounds o
of
her fingers, seeking instead to recall the sight and touch and feel of
, who was alone in their bed in the house at Jamaran..
Barzin
. Each
time he summoned the image of her and the touch of her hands, the
image
dissolved and was replaced always it was her fingers, the girl's...
He
.
called to the bird
The bird was his truest friend, and would not corrupt him. It did 308
not
challenge him, was his equal. His love of it did not make him weak.
When it was finished and he was home, he would never talk to Barzin about the bird. She would not understand. He was alone; he was in darkness; he was sodden wet from immersing himself in the water,
sucking his air through the reed tube he had fashioned, when the
helicopter had circled overhead. He spoke soft, gentle words to the bird, hushed so as not to frighten it, told it what he was planning to
do.
Vahid Hossein shifted slightly, so that he could reach out with his hand beyond the tangle of thorns. The bird pecked at it as if he
might
have held a last piece of rabbit flesh... A lack of patience had caused him to make mistakes: trying to break into the house without
sufficient
preparation; taking the assault rifle... He criticized the bird for its
laziness it should hunt, it was strong enough now... He should have taken the rocket launcher, it would be the RPG-7 next time, he told the
bird. His fingers found the neck and crown of the bird's head and smoothed the
feathers. He
silky
hoped it would hunt in the dawn light
and that he would see its power and beauty as it dived to kill.
He trusted the bird as his friend.
They sat at a corner table.
Frank Perry was drunk.
"What did I do?"
The restaurant had cleared, and he had taken on a drunk's aggression.
"Will some bugger tell me what I did?"
The principal was in the angle of the corner, his wife was to the
right
of him and the detective to the left, with a clear view to the door.
Markham had his back to the room. The evening was a disaster, he
thought, of titanic proportions.
Perry snatched at the bottle and poured again.
309
he bloody right to know what I did."
"I've t
e
On
of the cars was out at the front with its driver, but its passenger o the glass door.
sat with his gun across his knees close t
The other
r was at the rear of the car-park, covering the outer entrance to
ca
the
kitchens. A policeman was sitting by the swing doors through which the
had brought the French food. The customers who had been
waiters
there
late party had stampeded in, seven of them, at three tables,
when the
fed themselves, gulped their drinks, paid up and were long
had stuf
ne.
go
e wine, the most expensive on the list. Drops
Perry swilled th
dribbled
his mouth and ran on his jaw.