Edge of Danger (20 page)

‘This is all interesting stuff, Superintendent,’ Billy said, ‘but what’s your conclusion?’

‘He is mad. And he believes very much in revenge, in the harshest possible terms. Dillon has killed his two brothers, so Dillon must die.’ She

turned. ‘It’s the only certainty, Sean. He would be incapable of living with himself, with you alive.’

‘And Kate?’ Dillon asked.

‘Empathetic inclusion. To aristocratic people, family is everything, and in this case there’s a double dose, with the Dauncey on one hand and Rashid on the other. Kate is aware of her heritage and looks up to him as head of the family. It couldn’t be otherwise.’

Billy said, ‘So even she might want to kill Dillon

off?’

‘I would say so.’ Suddenly, she looked tired. ‘I

need to rest.’

The door opened and her father looked in, still wearing his operating gown. ‘They told me you were here.’

Billy said, ‘How is he?’

‘Well, my recommendation is that at your uncle’s age, he should try not to get shot. Having said that, he’s not going to die on us.’ He moved to his daughter. ‘How are you?’

‘Tired.’

‘Then go to sleep.’ He turned to the other two.

‘Out.’

They moved, Dillon got the door open, and she called, ‘Sean, take care, for God’s sake. Rashid is

obsessed; he must kill you. In fact, he’ll challenge you. It’s like being back in the desert, Sean. He wants you for himself.’

She was crying. Arnold Bernstein pushed Dillon and Billy through the door and said, ‘I’ll be back, my love.’

Dillon said, ‘She’s taking it very hard. Why? She never approved of me.’

‘You’re such a smart man. You must be to have got away with killing people for the last thirty years. On the other hand, if you can’t see why she’s crying, my little Irish friend, then you really must be stupid.’

He walked away and Billy said, ‘I think he means she likes you, Dillon.’

Dillon lit a cigarette. ‘Yes, I did get that impression. Let’s have a cup of tea. We’ll hang around and maybe they’ll let you see Harry before we leave.’

They went into the reception lounge, gave one of the girls an order and sat down.

Aidan Bell made it up from the river to the High Street and caught a cab to Mayfair. He walked the last few hundred yards to the back of the South

Audley Street house, where he rang the bell at the kitchen door. It was Kate who answered. Her face dropped.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Everything. Is he here?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then lead the way.’

She suddenly looked fearful. ‘Where’s Michael?’

‘Get on with it.’

She took him to the great drawing room, where Paul Rashid sat by the fire. He looked up.

‘What are you doing back here? Where’s Michael?’

‘There’s no easy way of telling you this. Dillon turned up at Hangman’s Wharf with the Salters. I managed to shoot Harry Salter, but Dillon got your brother over the rail. The last I saw, he had an arm round his neck and was taking him under the water.’

Kate let out an agonized cry, turned and stumbled away. Rashid, his face very calm, said, ‘Tell me exactly what happened.’

Dillon and Billy were drinking tea in the reception lounge when Ferguson appeared. ‘How’s Harry?’ he asked.

‘He’ll survive,’ Billy said. ‘Pay him off with an OBE.’

Ferguson turned to Dillon. ‘What in the hell were you playing at?’

‘I suddenly realized we didn’t have any certainty. We’ve been talking about the Prince Regent and about the Dorchester and everything sounded right, but we didn’t know. So Billy and Harry followed Michael Rashid and Bell to Hangman’s Wharf, where Rashid had this motor cruiser. It got a bit frantic then. Bell shot Harry and got away. I pulled young Rashid over the rail and drowned him!’

‘What a bastard you are, Dillon.’

‘Yes, well, it’s the line of work you put me in. Has the disposal team found him?’

‘No, the police have. I decided to handle it that way - an anonymous phone call, someone walking the dog on the wharf who saw the body in the water.’

‘And Paul Rashid?’

‘Must have heard by now.’

‘And Bell?’

‘God knows. I’d have thought Bell was a closed chapter. You’ve effectively blocked any of Rashid’s aspirations as regards the Premier. If Bell has any sense, he’ll be well on his way out of it.’

‘That’s interesting,’ Billy said. ‘We had a very illuminating chat with Superintendent Bernstein. I didn’t know she had a psychology degree. The way she analysed it, Paul Rashid is a raving loony. He’ll have to kill Dillon, because of the family pride, and his sister would probably do it for him.’

‘Bell,’ Dillon said. ‘He’s mad, too, and when it comes down to it, maybe so am I. I wouldn’t bank on Bell doing a runner. He loves the game, and if Rashid decides he still needs him, there could be a lot of money in it for him.’

At Kensington Mortuary, Paul and Kate Rashid waited in a grim room painted green and white. There was an electric fire, a window over a parking lot. After a while, a male nurse came in. He looked uncertain.

‘Mr Rashid?’

It was Kate who said, ‘No, my brother is Earl of

Loch Dhu.’

‘And the deceased, Michael Rashid … ?’

‘Also my brother.’

‘Would you like to see him?’

‘Yes,’ Paul Rashid said tonelessly.

‘There’s just been an autopsy. The pathologist is

still there. You mightn’t find it very pleasant. I’m thinking of the young lady.’

‘That’s kind of you, but it must be done.’

‘The thing is, there are some gentlemen in there. A General Ferguson and two others.’

Lady Kate made an exclamation, but her brother put a hand on her arm. ‘That’s fine. We all know each other.’

They were led into an operating theatre: white paint, lots of stainless steel. The forensic pathologist stood with Ferguson, Dillon and Blake. The nurse went and whispered to him. The pathologist turned.

‘Lord Loch Dhu, I’m very sorry.’

Rashid said, ‘Ferguson, if you’d be kind enough to wait outside, I’d appreciate a word.’

‘Of course,’ Ferguson replied, very formal, very English upper class.

He walked out with Dillon and Blake. Kate walked to the operating table where Michael Rashid lay naked, crude stitching on the body and a line around his skull.

‘Was this necessary?’

‘Your brother drowned, after falling over the rail of his boat, but the coroner demands a full autopsy. There’s no way around that. I’ve established the

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cause of death as drowning, and under Section Three of the act, I can issue a certificate releasing the body to you. There’s no need for a court hearing.’

‘That’s extremely kind,’ Paul Rashid said. ‘I’ll make the necessary arrangements.’

When he and Kate went out, Ferguson was in the reception area talking to a middle-aged man in a raincoat and old-fashioned trilby hat.

The General nodded to the Rashids. ‘I’ll see you outside.’

The man in the trilby said, ‘I’m Chief Inspector Temple. There’s no evidence of foul play. Just a tragic accident.’ ‘Of course.’

‘I presume the pathologist has told you that in these circumstances, under Section Three, he can release the body without a Coroner’s Court hearing?’ ‘Yes.’

‘I have to countersign it as investigating officer, so I’ll do that now. After that, you’ll be able to have the body at any time.’

There was a look in his eye, and after all, why should a Chief Inspector be the investigating officer in a drowning?

Paul Rashid smiled and took his hand. ‘You’ve been very kind.’

Outside, Ferguson waited on the pavement beside the Daimler, his chauffeur at the wheel. Dillon stood close by with Blake, smoking.

Ferguson said, ‘I don’t know about you chaps, but I’m famished. There’s that nice Italian restaurant next to the Dorchester, you know the one?’ He turned. ‘Ah, there you are.’

‘My brother George’s body was delivered earlier from Hazar. They’re releasing Michael. We’ll bury them at Dauncey in the family mausoleum the day after tomorrow. After that, it’s open season.’

‘Your brother drowned,’ Ferguson told him. ‘It’s as simple as that.’

Kate walked up to Dillon and struck him in the face. ‘And you drowned him.’

‘Jesus, Kate, he was trying to kill me. Why is it the Rashids seem to think it’s okay for them to shoot other people but not to get stiffed in return?’

She turned away and got behind the wheel of the Mercedes. Paul Rashid said, ‘Vengeance is mine, Dillon. You should understand that. It’s the Old Testament.’

‘Well, I’ll tell you what, My Lord, I’ll make you

a fair offer. Being just as mad as you, I’ll come to the funerals. That way, you can try to finish me off, if you can - or I might just try the same with you. What do you say to that?’

Rashid’s eyes gleamed for a moment and he almost seemed to smile. Then, with a brief nod, he said, ‘I’ll be expecting you,’ and drove off.

‘Jesus,’ Ferguson said. ‘That was really pushing it.’

Dillon turned to him. ‘It’s time this whole thing ended, General.’ He stared after the departing car. ‘One way or another.’

As Kate drove, her brother called the number of a service flat around the corner from the South Audley Street house. Normally, it was for the use of extra staff. At the moment, it housed Bell.

When he answered, Rashid said, ‘It’s me. Now listen.’

He told Bell exactly what had happened. When he was finished, Bell said, ‘What a bastard Sean is, but then that’s how he’s lived so long.’

‘You talk as if you admire him.’

‘He’s a decent enough stick. We’ve a lot in common.’

‘Well, I’d like to take care of this myself, but if you can do it, so be it. The three of them are on their way to some Italian restaurant next to the Dorchester. Ferguson’s car is a Daimler, you can’t miss it.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Take them out. Come round to South Audley Street. I’ll supply a weapon. I’ll pay you, of course.’

‘You’re on. See you soon.’

Rashid switched off his phone. Kate said, ‘You mean it?’

‘Kate, I told them when the funeral would be, and I got the reaction I wanted from Dillon. So the last thing they expect is a hit now.’ He shrugged. ‘This is right up Bell’s alley. I’ll give him one more chance. If he fails this time, then I’ll kill Dillon myself. After I kill Bell.’

He was so calm, so certain, there was no way she could argue and she continued to drive.

Bell arrived at the back door at South Audley Street and was let in by Rashid, who took him upstairs and unlocked a door into what proved to be a gun room. Most things were on offer, but Bell chose an Armalite.

‘An old friend, this one. A folding stock, and you have a silencer.’

‘It’s not completely silent. What would you want to do?’

‘Shoot a tyre out, get all of them at the same time.’

‘That sounds good. Let’s see if you can do it. Whatever happens, return to the flat. I’ll expect to find you there.’

‘Good. Now find me some sort of road map.’ Bell found an old raincoat with capacious pockets so that the Armalite, with its folding stock, was easily concealed. He walked down South Audley Street until he found the restaurant, and there was the parked Daimler, the chauffeur sitting with the light on, reading a newspaper.

He had worked out from the map that, on leaving the restaurant, they would have to turn left down Park Lane, then make a U-turn into Curzon Gate to make for Cavendish Place along the other side of Park Lane. So, Bell crossed the road to the shadows of Hyde Park, scrambled over the fence and stood in the darkness of a tree. He had a pair of night glasses, which he clipped to his head, and he watched the front of the restaurant.

When Ferguson, Blake and Dillon emerged, they walked to the Daimler and got in. Bell took out the Armalite, unfolded it and waited. There was little traffic at that time of night and the Daimler turned out of Curzon Gate and picked up speed. Bell aimed at the rear wheel on the passenger side and fired. At that moment, Dillon happened to turn his head and saw the flash. The tyre burst and the Daimler slewed across the road, then back again, bumping over the kerb. Ferguson was thrown against the passenger door, Blake on his knees.

‘This is a hit,’ Dillon said, ‘I saw the flash. I’m going.’

He jumped out, vaulted the fence and drew his Walther. Aidan Bell turned and ran, holding the Armalite across his chest.

Dillon went after him, chasing him through the shadows. They came to a huge monument, suffused with light all around, and Bell tripped and fell, and the Armalite went flying. Dillon came to a halt and stood there, chest heaving, holding the Walther to his side.

‘Why, Aidan, it’s you, old son. How much did the Earl offer?’

‘To hell with you, Dillon.’

He grabbed for the Armalite and Dillon shot him twice in the heart.

He went back to the road and the car. Ferguson was holding his arm. ‘I think it’s broken.’

‘What happened, Sean?’ Blake asked.

‘It was Bell. I shot him. He’s by the monument. I don’t know how you want to handle it, General. Do you want to leave a famous IRA terrorist to be found shot dead in Hyde Park or call in the disposal team?’

‘In the circumstances, let’s make it low-key. You call in, explain where you are and wait. Frankly, I need to get myself to Rosedene.’ He got out of the Daimler with Blake and said to his chauffeur, ‘Call in recovery for the car. Mr Johnson will see to me.’

Later, sitting in the shadows of the monument, Dillon rang Paul Rashid on his mobile. ‘It’s me, Dillon. Aidan Bell tried to take us out, but I’m afraid he’s failed for the very last time.’

‘You’ve killed him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, if you hadn’t done it, I would have.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me. I’m looking forward to the funeral, Rashid. If you think you can take

me, you’re welcome to do it. This thing’s gone on long enough.’

‘I look forward to it as well, Dillon.’

Kate, sitting opposite him, said, ‘What is it?’

‘Bell’s dead.’

‘Dillon?’

‘Who else.’