Drink With the Devil (24 page)

Devlin handed her the bag. “On your way, girl.”

T
HERE WAS A
mechanic working on a car in the garage, a small man in a tweed suit and cap sitting in a glass office. He got up and came out.

“Patrick Murphy,” he said. “And what can I do for you, Miss?”

“I’ve been touring with some friends, but they’re going back to Belfast. They dropped me here because someone in Warrenpoint said you hired cars.”

“I do, indeed. How long would it be for?”

“Two or three days. I want to roam the Down coast. Just take time off. Can you help?”

“Well, it’s not the fancy stuff I can manage, but I’ve a Renault saloon over here if you’ve nothing against the French.”

“Nothing at all.”

She followed him across the garage and had a look. “Newly checked and the tank is full,” he told her.

“Wonderful.” She embellished her story a little. “When I come back, I’ll be wanting to return to Belfast.”

“No problem. I run a taxi service. We’ll take you to Warrenpoint. You can catch the train. Now, if you’ll give me your licence, we’ll get on with it. How would you be paying, by the way?”

She opened her purse, took out the licence, and checked her cards. “Would American Express be all right?”

He smiled. “Well, as they say on the television, that will do nicely.”

S
HE DROVE OUT
of the garage as Barry and Sollazo walked toward the station wagon. She pulled in behind the Toyota and briefly punched the horn. Dillon turned, raised a hand, and gestured her forward. She pulled out between the trucks as the station wagon turned into the road and followed it, and the Toyota came on behind.

S
COTSTOWN WAS DESOLATE
in the rain, thirty or forty houses, the jetty, a dozen or so fishing boats in the harbor all enveloped in a damp, clinging mist. There was a wood at the top of the hill overlooking the village. Hannah pulled in at the side of the road looking down and saw the station wagon turn into the car park of the public house. The Toyota stopped behind her and Dillon and Devlin got out.

“A long time since I was here,” Dillon said. “But I was right, though. That’s the Loyalist down there, and if Kevin Stringer’s still there, he’s Jack Barry’s man.”

“Let’s take a look at the harbor.” Devlin raised the binoculars. “Not much, just fishing boats. No, wait a minute. There’s some sort of motor launch anchored out there. Thirty- or forty-footer, painted gray. Looks like serious business to me. Take a look.”

Dillon peered through the binoculars. “You could be right.”

“I’ve got to be.”

Hannah took the binoculars from Dillon and checked for herself. She nodded. “I agree, Liam, but what this needs is a closer look. I’ll go and play the tourist. I could do with a nice cup of tea and a sandwich, anyway. I’ll try the Loyalist.”

“While we starve?” Dillon said.

“That’s just your hard luck, Dillon,” she told him, went to the Renault, got in, and drove away.

I
N THE BACK
parlour of the Loyalist, Kevin Stringer embraced Barry. “Jack, I can’t tell you how great it is to see you again.”

“And you, Kevin. This is my associate, Mr. Sollazo from New York. You’ve found a boat?”

“Indeed I have.
Avenger
, a motor launch a friend of mine up the coast bought for the shark fishing only the sharks went away.”

Sollazo laughed out loud. “That I like.”

“How far would you be going?” Stringer asked.

“Rathlin Island,” Barry said. “Does anyone live there these days?”

“Not in years.”

“How far?”

“Only three or four miles.”

“Good, we can take a look.”

“Fine,” Stringer said. “But come and have a drink and something to eat.”

“So you’re doing food these days?” Barry said.

“We all need to make a living, Jack, and times are changing with the peace process. Tourists flooding back, Americans like Mr. Sollazo. I have seven rooms here. In the summer I was full most weeks. But come and eat. Best Irish stew in the country.”

T
HERE WERE A
few regulars in the bar having a drink. Barry and Sollazo sat at the table in the bow window, ate rabbit pie and drank Guinness. On the other side of the bar, Hannah Bernstein did a good nervous act to the barman.

“Could I just have sandwiches?”

Kevin Stringer moved in fast and smiled, at his most expansive. “Anything you’d like.”

“Well, salad would be fine,” she said.

“No problem. Touring, are you?”

“That’s right.”

“And to drink?”

“A vodka and tonic would be nice.”

“Coming up. Just you sit yourself down.”

There were some newspapers on a stand by the door. She took one and sat at a table at the far end of the room from the window. Barry had his back to her so it was Sollazo who noticed. Very nice, he thought. It was a strange quirk, but he’d always liked women who wore glasses.

A
N HOUR LATER
, Sollazo, Barry, and Stringer went down to the harbor. Stringer led the way to the slipway and a green inflatable with an outboard motor.

“Here we go,” he said.

Sollazo and Barry climbed in, Stringer followed and cast off. He started the outboard and they moved away. Hannah, wandering down from the pub, watched them go.

F
ROM THE HILL
Devlin followed their progress through the binoculars. “I was right,” he said with some satisfaction. “They’re closing on the boat that looked promising.” He nodded. “Now they’re boarding. Have a look.”

Dillon did, watching them board, then swung to the jetty and focused on Hannah Bernstein. “Take care, girl dear, take care,” he said softly.

O
N BOARD
A
VENGER
, Barry and Sollazo followed Stringer as he showed them around. “One cabin, two bunks, the saloon with benches that allow for another two bunks, galley, toilet, and that’s it.” They ended up in the wheelhouse.

Sollazo said, “It seems as if it’s seen better days.”

“Top show isn’t everything. It looks shabby, but the hull is steel and by Akerboon. Penta petrol engine, twin screws. Good for twenty-five knots. She’s got a depth sounder, radar, automatic steering. Everything you need.”

Barry turned to Sollazo. “Are you happy?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Barry nodded and said to Stringer, “Fine, Kevin. We’ll unload the station wagon in your garage. You put the stuff on board later. We’ll return to Dublin. We’ll be back before noon tomorrow to put to sea.”

“That’s fine, Jack.”

They went to the rail and Sollazo dropped into the inflatable. Stringer said eagerly, “It’s important, is it, Jack? I mean for the movement? The great days back?”

“I know what you mean, Kevin,” Barry said. “To hell with peace.”

H
ANNAH PULLED IN
beside the Toyota at the top of the hill and got out. “They came back from the boat and went to the pub.”

Dillon had the binoculars raised. “The station wagon’s just leaving. No matter, only one road they can go. We’ll catch them.”

“So, if they’re leaving they’ll be coming back,” Devlin said.

“And I think I should be here to receive them,” Hannah said. “Have you got a bag of any description in your car, Liam?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Devlin opened the boot of the Toyota and produced a large holdall. “Empty, I’m afraid.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’ll book into the Loyalist and play the tourist. They’ll be back.”

“And we with them,” Dillon said.

Devlin put his hands on her shoulders. “Take care. We’d hate to lose you.”

“Don’t worry.” She raised her shoulder bag. “I’m carrying.”

“Hannah, you’re the wonder of the world.” Dillon kissed her on both cheeks and then softly on the mouth.

Her eyes widened. “Damn you, Dillon, that was a first,” and she got into the Renault and drove away.

T
EN MINUTES LATER
a delighted Kevin Stringer was showing Hannah a bedroom with a view of the harbor. “And how long would you be staying?” he asked.

“Two nights, possibly three. I’m just touring. Down from Belfast.”

“A great city. We don’t have en suite facilities, but the bathroom and the necessary is just next door.”

“Wonderful.”

“I’ll see you later. Dinner at seven if you like,” and he went out.

D
ILLON CAUGHT UP
with the station wagon within fifteen minutes and settled back. “What do you think they’re up to?”

“This was just a preliminary sortie to check the boat. They’ve probably dropped off the diving equipment. It’s back to Ballyburn now. They’ll return, maybe tomorrow, with the others.”

“And up we come again and what then?” Dillon asked.

“That’s up to you and that young woman back there. She has the police authority, Sean. Scotstown is in Ulster and that’s part of the United Kingdom. It’s up to you and Ferguson.” Devlin leaned back. “Maybe a little gunplay, who knows, but not as far as I’m concerned. I’m getting too old, Sean. The trigger finger isn’t what it was. I’d let you down.”

“Cobblers,” Dillon said.

“I’ve done my bit. Good luck and God bless you, but count me out.”

I
T WAS ALMOST
four o’clock and at Victoria Farm, Kathleen was in the kitchen boiling the kettle. Ryan sat at the table and Mori was in the sitting room.

She glanced at her watch. “They’re due back in an hour. If we’re going to do it, it should be now.”

“If you think it will work,” Ryan said.

“Look, Uncle Michael.” She held up the pill bottle. “Three Dazane pills will bring on your angina symptoms. The effect will really start showing by the time Barry and Sollazo are back. Jack Barry isn’t going to just let you lie there and die, he’s not the kind.”

“You mean you hope he isn’t?”

“Look, even if they did nothing Dr. Sieed told me the symptoms wear off in a couple of days. On the other hand, if Barry listens to me and takes you to a hospital, that’ll be our chance.”

He sat there looking at her and then laughed. “Oh, what the hell, what have we got to lose?” She opened the bottle, put three pills in her palm, got a glass of water, and went back to him.

“There you go then, Uncle Michael.”

R
YAN’S SYMPTOMS FIRST
became apparent within half an hour. He stayed there at the kitchen table, head in his hands, and then he started to sweat. Fifteen minutes later the trembling started.

Kathleen called, “Mori, get in here.”

The Sicilian appeared on the instant. “What is it?”

“He’s having an angina attack. He’s had them before. Get him into the sitting room on the sofa.”

Mori pulled Ryan up and got an arm round him. They went out of the kitchen together and along the hall to the sitting room. Kathleen followed with a glass of water. Ryan looked terrible, his face gray, and for the first time she felt doubt.

“Uncle Michael, drink this.” She put the water to his lips and at that moment he started to shake terribly. This was more, much more, than she had expected, and at that moment Barry came in the room, Sollazo at his back.

“For God’s sake, what is it?”

“He’s having another angina attack,” she said. “He needs a hospital.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Sollazo turned to Barry. “Hospital is out.”

Barry knelt down and put a hand on Ryan’s forehead. “He’s in a bad way.” He stood up and said to Mori, “Get him in the station wagon.” He turned to Sollazo. “It’s all right. There’s a nursing home just outside Dublin we’ve been using for years. Decent doctors, good facilities. We’ll take him there. Twenty-five minutes.”

S
TANDING BESIDE THE
Toyota observing the farmhouse through the binoculars, Devlin said, “There’s something up. Sollazo and the Mori fella have just brought Ryan out of the house. They’re putting him into the station wagon. They looked as if they were supporting him.”

“Let me look.” Dillon took the binoculars. “They’re all getting in, Barry and Kathleen, too. Let’s get ready to move.”

He slid behind the wheel and Devlin got in on the other side. A few moments later the station wagon turned into the road and Dillon followed.

T
HERE WAS A
telephone box in the village, but it was out of order. Hannah needed to speak to Ferguson, had to take a chance. She returned to the Loyalist and went up to her room. There was the usual system where she punched nine to get an outside line, and she dialed Ferguson’s direct line at the Ministry of Defence.

It was bad luck that Kevin Stringer was sitting at his desk in the office doing accounts and was intrigued by the sound of the rather long series of numbers clicking through. He reached for the main switchboard phone and lifted it gently.

“Brigadier Ferguson, Chief Inspector Bernstein.”

A little later Stringer heard a voice say, “Ferguson here. What’s happening, Chief Inspector?”

“I’m staying at the Loyalist in Scotstown, sir, on the Down coast. We followed them up here, Barry and Sollazo. They have a boat in the harbor and brought a load of diving gear. They’ve gone back to Barry’s place outside Dublin, that’s where the Ryans are. Dillon and Devlin are in hot pursuit.”

“You expect them to return?”

“Probably tomorrow. I’m staying on as an English tourist, lone female variety.”

“Well, for God’s sake watch yourself.”

“Don’t I always?”

She put the phone down. In the office, Stringer sat thinking about it, then he rang Barry’s phone number at Ballyburn. There was no reply. He sat there thinking about it some more and finally opened his desk drawer and took out a Browning automatic.

H
ANNAH
,
SITTING AT
the dressing table, was aware of a slight noise and turned to find the door open, Stringer standing there, the Browning in his hand.