by Bill Ward
To Miller’s way of thinking this made it more likely that his information was genuine because he was afraid of what the future would hold. Whether he cared for his family and didn’t want to put them in danger or just wanted rid of them, Miller didn’t really mind. He’d long since given up trying to second guess people’s motives for their actions. This was an opportunity that didn’t come along often. Even so, learning the informant’s name was still going to cost a great deal of money to move this man halfway around the world with a new false identity. There would be other useful things the local Special Branch boys would learn but everything hinged on being able to offer the new identity. And they needed to act fast. The IRA knew the police had him and would become suspicious after seventy two hours if he disappeared. It was too much money for the local Special Branch boys to agree the deal. They needed Miller to pick up the tab.
Miller was desperate to find the name of the informant for more reasons than putting an end to the current troubles. If there was a senior informant today in MI5, then perhaps that same person could have been a less senior informant some years ago. Again he thought of the tortured body of Brian Potter. He needed to know the name. He returned to his office, made a couple of phone calls and wrote the necessary emails. Then he called Ireland and informed them to agree to the man’s terms. He just hoped it would be worthwhile. He didn’t like rewarding a senior member of the IRA with a new life but he was pragmatic enough to do so for the bigger picture.
Later in the afternoon he picked up the phone and heard the name of the MI5 informant. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. The name provided after the agreement to a new life had been confirmed in writing was Jones. Miller only knew of one Jones and he was indeed very senior in MI5. He was Tony Simpson’s boss.
The problem now was knowing how to proceed. How could he draw Jones out into the open? He didn’t want to scare him and give him the chance to cover his tracks. And given his senior position, it was going to be very difficult to know just who could be trusted. It would be near enough impossible to prove anyway. He had friends in high places and was no fool. Even just trying to run any checks was almost impossible, without him getting to hear about it. Miller thought of running the news past Simpson but he doubted he would be able to offer any additional insight.
There were some things Miller could do and the first would be to investigate Jones’ financial affairs. That he could do without setting off any alarm bells. If Jones was living above his means or could not explain specific deposits in his bank account, then Miller would have some ammunition to take this further. Even as he thought of it, he knew he had little chance of finding out anything so easily. If Jones was guilty, he would have squirrelled his payments somewhere in an account that would never be found. That would be true of anyone in MI5. Still he would run the checks as at least he would feel he was doing something. After all Jones had been on the very short list of people aware of the details surrounding Murphy’s transfer to Court.
He would also ask around about Jones’ sexual preferences. If Jones was being blackmailed, then it could possibly be linked to a mistress or perhaps even a man. Miller didn’t know a lot about Jones’ private life but did know he had a wife and children. He was in a job where scandal could quickly end a promising career. Whatever he found, it was doubtful anything would ever up in a court of law. What he needed was evidence that would satisfy Jones’ Director not a Judge.
He didn’t like Jones personally but he was shocked he might be the informant. He couldn’t remember him ever being in Ireland though he still could easily have been there undercover. If he came up blank with Jones, he was going to have to go to him and discuss the information he had been passed. He didn’t have much time. His friend in Ireland could only sit on the news for twenty four hours. Even doing that was putting at risk his career. Then Jones would hear via official routes soon after or probably far quicker through his own contacts.
Once the news was out in the open, Jones would simply deny everything and claim he was being framed. Miller had just authorized the huge expense of relocating someone to Australia and there were going to be repercussions if Jones was completely innocent. In fact, Miller might be taking that cruise with Mary sooner than expected. What didn’t make sense to Miller was how Connor linked to Jones. Who exactly was pulling whose strings?
Eduardo approached the white door quickly and gave a short firm rap. There was no sound from within the house but he knew Connor would be observing him and determining whether it was safe to offer entry. After a minute, the answer came with the front door opening, although there was still no sign of Connor. Eduardo entered and found Connor, gun in hand, behind the door.
“Hello Connor.” Eduardo gave what he hoped was his most friendly smile.
Connor didn’t return the smile but waved him in the direction of the living room. “Sit,” he instructed, beckoning to a couple of old and very worn sofas with especially frayed armrests.
Eduardo did as instructed, careful to keep his arms in the open and clearly visible to Connor. “The Chief asked me to come,” Eduardo said, knowing he was stating the obvious. “I was in London anyway and happy to return a favour. I have a new passport for you.” Eduardo reached slowly inside his inside jacket pocket and withdrew a brown envelope which he placed on the sofa. Eduardo had met Connor a few times and though they weren’t, by any stretch of the imagination, friends, Eduardo was comfortable his relationship with the Chief, would ensure Connor would never suspect his real motives.
Connor tucked the gun in the back of the waistband of his trousers. He seemed to relax a little. “About bloody time… Want a drink?” he asked.
Eduardo had smelt the whisky on Connor’s breath as soon as he entered the house. “Thanks,” he said, accepting the offer. “By the way, the Chief says well done. You’ve earned a long holiday.”
Connor moved to the adjoining kitchen and reached up to a cabinet for a glass. Eduardo could see a half empty bottle of whisky and a glass on the kitchen work surface. He poured two large measures into the tumblers. As he returned to the lounge Eduardo got up from the sofa and extended his left hand to take one of the glasses. At the same time his right hand came forward revealing the gun he had taken from the strap around his ankle. “Take a seat,” Eduardo ordered.
Connor showed a hint of surprise then quickly took control of his emotions. Eduardo was sure he was assessing whether to take immediate action or do as he was instructed.
Eduardo backed a pace further away without having taken the whisky. “Take a seat,” he repeated, waving his gun in the direction of the sofa. He waited for Connor to be seated before speaking again. “We need to have a chat but first please put down the glass, take out your weapon holding the barrel between two fingers and place it on the floor in front of you. Then just slide it carefully towards me with your foot.” Eduardo tried to make it seem like an everyday request. He hadn’t needed Sam’s warning to understand that Connor was a very dangerous man. He knew Connor’s role in the organization. Despite being the one holding the gun, Eduardo was under no illusions that his own life was now in great danger. Any slip on his part that allowed Connor to gain control could only have an unpleasant end.
Connor did as instructed, having first placed the wine glass in his left hand on the floor. Eduardo picked up the weapon without ever taking his eyes from Connor and stood holding both guns pointed in Connor’s direction.
Connor raised the glass in his right hand to his lips and took a large gulp of the whisky. “This was yours,” he then said, recovering the second glass from the floor and offering it towards Eduardo.
“I don’t think so,” Eduardo replied with a wry smile. “You’re welcome to it.” He had no intention of getting so close to Connor, despite the strong attraction of the whisky. He took his mobile from his pocket and when it was answered said simply, “I am ready.” He turned back to an inquisitive looking Connor. “I am a very good shot so please don’t make any move that I might in
terpret as threatening while I welcome an old friend of yours.”
Connor gave a small shrug of his shoulders but his face showed no emotion. Eduardo walked carefully backwards towards the front door, never taking his eyes from Connor. He opened the door a few inches and then stepped aside to allow Sam to enter the house. As she did so Eduardo studied Connor’s face and spotted the brief look of surprise once again quickly replaced by a passive expression.
“You fucking bastard,” Sam quickly spat out as she moved to the centre of the room. “Not feeling so fucking cocky now are you.” It wasn’t really a question, more a statement of fact.
“Nice to see you too,” Connor replied flatly. He took another large drink of whisky.
Eduardo wanted to get the job done and be away as quickly as possible. He picked up a cushion from the sofa. “Sure you still want to do this,” he asked Sam.
She made a point of looking at Connor as she answered in the affirmative, “looking forward to it.”
“Use this then to muffle the noise,” Eduardo urged Sam. He moved towards her and handed her both the gun he had taken from Connor and the cushion.
“She’s never going to shoot me,” Connor stated confidently.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Eduardo replied. “Not after what you did to her.”
Sam took a couple of paces closer to Connor.
“She loved it,” Connor sneered.
Eduardo could see sweat breaking out on Connor’s forehead.
“Not as much as I’m going to love this,” Sam said, raising the gun and placing the cushion in front of the barrel.
Eduardo knew what Connor was going to do before he even moved. “That’s close enough,” he warned. In the same instant that Sam ignored him and kept moving even closer, Connor raised the full whisky glass as if to take another drink but instead threw it at Sam, who by now was only a couple of feet away. Eduardo watched Sam shy away from the glass and its contents as Connor launched himself from the chair.
Eduardo wasn’t certain but he thought he saw Sam smile, in the same instant in which he heard the muffled retort of the weapon. She had fired instinctively without great aim but had hit the onrushing body at short range. Connor staggered and then fell against her as she fired a second shot. He slid down the front of her body his hands trying to grasp her arms but failing.
Eduardo hurried to check the slumped body with his back propped up by the chair. He wasn’t dead but blood was pouring from wounds in his chest and stomach. He tried to speak but blood spattered from his mouth and the words were quiet and incoherent.
Sam moved close enough so her face was right in front of him. She was smiling.
Eduardo found the smile disturbing. “Shall I finish him?” he enquired, not expecting for one moment Sam to agree.
“That’s my pleasure,” Sam responded quickly.
“Bitch,” Connor managed to weakly spit out.
Sam hit him across the face with the gun handle, breaking his nose.
“We need to get out of here.” Eduardo’s voice was insistent. He made a mental note never to cross Sam.
Sam looked disappointed. “Pity,” she said turning back to Connor. “I would have liked to stay and play some more.” She raised the gun and cushion one last time. She placed the cushion covering the lower part of Connor’s face but left his eyes uncovered. “You always did talk crap,” she said, forcing the gun barrel towards his mouth but pointing upwards towards his brain. When satisfied she had the best position possible she smiled at Connor and pulled the trigger.
The Chief was at home pacing his front room waiting for some news. The whole world seemed to be going bloody mad. He was in danger of catching the disease. He had asked Eduardo to remove Connor, one of his best men and there were all too few good men he could call upon. He didn’t understand what was going on in London but he knew there was a massive manhunt underway and Connor was the target. The bloody fool was running amok and everything he touched was a disaster, although he had at least removed the Murphy boy. Better to have him silenced rather than fall into the hands of the Brits. He was getting old and careless. Everyone eventually reached their sell by date. And he couldn’t afford to upset Eduardo. But it still left a bad taste in the mouth. Connor had done good work in the past.
Right now the Chief had problems closer to home. He glanced anxiously at his watch. Almost four which meant he would receive the call any minute. He‘d needed confirmation of what he was told a few hours earlier. It was too important not to be certain. He didn’t rush to the phone when it rang. He didn’t want to reveal the tension he was feeling to those listening in.
“Hello,” he answered.
“It’s Billy here. I’m afraid I have to cancel this evening’s drink. Sorry but the little ones are sick.”
“No problem Billy. We’ll do it some other time soon. Give my best to the family. Hope they get better soon.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you soon. Bye”
He replaced the receiver. So Billy had to cancel the drink. They hadn’t actually planned to have a drink but the message meant his worst fears had been confirmed. Fuck it was bad enough losing the drugs but now he knew they had a tout and not just any tout. Someone who knew virtually everything about every operation going back twenty years. The whole organization would have to take evasive action and bloody quickly. Some people were going to have to head south, at least for the time being. And Eduardo is worried about Connor. This could be far more serious.
In an ideal world he would simply have the bastard eliminated but that wouldn’t be easy. He was a big prize and they would be doing everything in their power to keep him hidden away. His own informant had been part of the initial interview but once Special Branch was involved he was quickly out of the picture. He didn’t know what his prisoner had to trade but knew who he was and had understood well enough it was something very big. That was when he had passed on the information via Billy. The Chief rubbed his eyes. He was tired. Tired of one fucking problem after another. He would call a meeting immediately. Then it hit him. Christ! He even knows about Jones.
The Chief stroked the stubble on his chin deep in thought. If Eduardo was questioning what was going on in London then so would others be. And now one of his key men had been arrested and was looking to turn informant. There would be those younger opportunists who might try to stir trouble, seeking to erode his power and authority. If he didn’t seem in control of events then he would be having difficult questions to answer. The only thing he’d ever been afraid of was losing his power. It had taken a long time to acquire and he knew it could disappear very quickly. The future was looking very unsettled. He would do what he’d always done. He would squash any dissent before it could gather momentum. Cut it off at the roots.
He was going to start by having a word with Murphy. Make sure there wasn’t a problem. He was a good man but if he was thinking about revenge for his son then he could cause trouble. He was a man you wouldn’t want to meet on a dark night if he had it in for you. His specialty was giving a good beating. The Chief could take care of himself but he didn’t fancy chancing his arm against Murphy. Of course, he hoped it would never come to that. The Chief would deny having any involvement in his son’s death. He’d blame the bloody renegades he’d joined. Swear to find the bastards and make them pay. Murphy couldn’t be certain what was true. And Connor wouldn’t be around to put him straight. Murphy would want to believe the Chief. If he did suspect, he’d also know it would be healthier for him to keep his thoughts to himself. He had other family to think about, including his daughter. How the hell did he ever end up with both of his kids so out of control?
Eduardo was pleased to be safely back at the hotel. He hadn’t entirely liked what he’d seen of Sam. He did though have a grudging admiration for her determination and ruthlessness. Although they were characteristics that would not be out of place in his business, he wasn’t really very keen on finding them in a lover. He preferred to go to sleep next to someone of a less
dangerous nature. And that she could be dangerous he had no doubt. When the time came to walk away, he wasn’t quite sure how she would react.
Sam wasted no time in climbing on top of Eduardo. As soon as they came through the door she pushed him back on to the bed and started tearing at his belt buckle. Their sex was frantic and born of a hunger for each other’s bodies that had to be urgently sated.
“I needed that,” she smiled.
“I noticed!”
Eduardo smiled to himself at the thought Sam would have tried to rape him if he had said no to her advances. He lay quiet for a minute while his breathing returned to normal.
She propped herself on one elbow and looked at him while stroking the hair on his chest. “That was real good,” she said.
“I thought so too.” This woman beside him was far more complex than he had anticipated. Eduardo found that revelation both exciting and somewhat of a worry.
“Eduardo, I need to ask another favour.” She continued lightly caressing his chest. “I want to kill Ashdown.”
Eduardo jumped up quickly into a sitting position. “That is madness. We need to get well away from here.”
Sam pouted. “I have a plan. And then I promise I will make it up to you.”
Eduardo couldn’t help but smile. He now knew this woman would do anything to revenge her brother and whatever he said would be irrelevant. He also knew how she would make it up to him. Better to help her and perhaps keep her out of trouble. Otherwise she would simply ignore him.
Tom had enjoyed his quietest day in almost a week. For once, there had been no one trying to kill him or his family and he had even shown his face in the shop, for a second consecutive day. Only a handful of people had been in the shop the previous evening when he arrived with Melanie but the news had spread of the famous guest. Young Ben had been particularly overawed and hardly said anything to Melanie but now was keen to speak about nothing else.
