Edge of Danger sd-9

by Jack Higgins

  Outside, it was cold. Dillon stood beside the Daimler smoking a cigarette as Ferguson, Blake and Carter approached.

  Ferguson said to Carter, 'Can I give you a lift?'

  'No, I feel like a walk, and sitting in the car with someone who once mortar-bombed Downing Street is more than I can take.'

  Dillon said, 'Jesus, sir, the grand man you are, and absolutely right.'

  In spite of himself, Carter laughed. 'Damn you, Dillon.' He moved away toward the Downing Street gates, paused and turned back, and he wasn't smiling. 'I don't care who he is, I don't care about his medals or his money. Stop him, Dillon.'

  He walked away.

  Ferguson phoned Rashid at the company offices and found he was not available. A secretary asked him to wait, and after a moment, Kate Rashid came to the phone.

  'General Ferguson. What can I do for you?'

  'I'll be in the Piano Bar at the Dorchester at eight o'clock.'

  'Am I supposed to be interested?'

  'I'd earnestly advise it, Lady Kate. Bring the Earl.'

  He put down the phone.

  She reported to Paul, who was down at the Dauncey Arms with Bell and Michael, and told him of her conversation with Ferguson. 'I'll handle it, if you want me to,' she said.

  'No,' Paul said. 'We'll come up this afternoon. I'm not going to leave you on your own with Dillon and Ferguson. Never underestimate the General. I'll see you later.'

  He switched off his phone. Michael said, 'Trouble?'

  'Ferguson wants a meeting. We'll go back.'

  'All of us?'

  'Oh, yes.' He turned to Bell. 'You'll have to keep your head down.' He smiled at Betty Moody. 'We're heading out, love.'

  As they sat in the Rolls-Royce, the glass divider closed, the Earl said to Bell, 'I think you'd better not stay at the South Audley house.'

  'Where would you suggest?'

  'Michael has a motor cruiser parked at a place called Hangman's Wharf at Wapping. You can stay there overnight.'

  'That sounds good to me.'

  'This meeting, brother,' Michael asked. 'What does Ferguson want?'

  'Whatever Dillon wants. We'll see.' Paul Rashid closed his eyes and leaned back.

  But in London, Dillon had been doing some thinking himself. He had hooked up to Ferguson's computer and trawled the list of the Rashid company's assets. Then he called Harry Salter at the Dark Man.

  'Harry. Michael Rashid has this boat parked at Hangman's Wharf in Wapping. You know everything that's going on along the river. What's the story?'

  'Let me check my computer.' After a while, Salter came back, laughing. 'It's called Hazar.'

  'Well, that fits. Is Billy there?'

  'Yes.'

  'Put us on conference.'

  After explaining the situation, Dillon said, 'So he must have Bell tucked up somewhere. What do you think? South Audley Street or Hangman's Wharf?'

  'Could be either,' Billy said. 'I'll check out South Audley for an hour or two this evening. If there's no result, I'll try the Hazar.'

  That evening, Kate Rashid arrived first, to find Dillon waiting for her.

  'What? No piano this evening, Dillon? I'm disappointed. I came all this way just to hear you play. You'd never know that your true vocation is for killing people.'

  'But not torture, Kate. Not killing a young, decent man in the most horrific way. Bronsby deserved better.'

  'Well, fuck you, too,' she said.

  'Jesus, girl, did they tell you that at Oxford?'

  In spite of herself, she showed a glimmer of a smile. 'Oh, posh girls can be worse than the tarts.'

  'How exciting.'

  He lit a cigarette, and she reached and took it from his mouth and smoked it for a moment. 'You killed my brother.'

  'Who'd arranged for Bronsby to be skinned, and you and the Earl were there. Do you mean to tell me you approve of one and hate the other?'

  She took a deep breath. 'Not really. I just hate you for George's death.'

  'No, Kate, no, you don't. That's the problem.'

  Billy and his uncle sat in a Shogun in South Audley Street, Billy at the wheel, Harry reading the Evening Standard. He happened to glance up and saw a Mini emerge from a side entrance to the house.

  'It's Bell and Michael Rashid, Billy. Get moving.'

  Paul Rashid appeared in the Piano Bar just as Ferguson and Johnson walked in. He looked well, tanned from the Hazar sun, in a cream linen suit and the usual Guards tie.

  'General Ferguson.' He didn't shake hands. 'Dillon. Mr Johnson.'

  They all sat down.

  Ferguson said, 'It's over.'

  'What is?' Rashid asked.

  'You know very well. I thought I'd give you one last chance: Stop it now. You've got away with a great deal, but not again, I can promise you.'

  Paul spoke softly and deliberately. 'I'm a great believer in family. I had a brother, a greatly loved brother, killed in Hazar.'

  'If you'll excuse me, My Lord,' Dillon said. 'The fact that you can make such a fuss about that after what you did to Bronsby indicates that you're seriously disturbed.' Kate tossed her glass of champagne in his face. Dillon ran his tongue over his lips and reached for a napkin. 'What a waste.'

  Just then, his mobile rang. 'Excuse me.' He got up and walked away. 'Dillon.'

  Billy said, 'Harry and I have followed Michael Rashid and Aidan Bell to Hangman's Wharf. They've boarded the Hazar. Do you want to tell Fergiison?'

  'No, this is our business. I didn't want Ferguson to know, in case he says don't do it. I'll be with you in half an hour.'

  He returned to the table. 'Sorry, I've got to go. I'm sure you'll handle things here, General. Tell them we know about their plans for the boat trip, and they'll never get away with it. They've come to the end of the line.'

  'Do you need me?' Blake asked.

  'Not this time, old son.' He looked at Paul Rashid. 'I'd listen to the General, I really would.' Then he turned and went out. Smiling.

  It was raining, driving in across the Thames at Hangman's Wharf, as Billy and Harry parked. Billy went round and opened the tailgate of the Shogun and produced an umbrella.

  'Well, that's nice,' Harry said. 'I tell you what. It doesn't make you look like Bogart in The Big Sleep.'

  'Yes, well, I do have a shooter in my pocket,' Billy said. 'So I suppose that's all that matters.'

  On board the Hazar, Bell and Michael Rashid had a drink. Rashid said, 'Right, you have a quiet night. I'll be in touch tomorrow, and tomorrow night, unless things change, will be the big one.'

  'Well, we'll see,' Aidan Bell told him.

  Outside, a voice called, 'Hey, are you there, Rashid, and that Irish fuck with you?'

  Bell and Rashid drew Brownings and approached the companionway.

  Dillon had arrived fifteen minutes earlier, parked behind Billy and Harry, and joined them. He called Ferguson on his mobile.

  'Where are you?' Ferguson asked, so Dillon told him. 'For God's sake. What are you playing at?'

  'We still can't confirm the hit, the river or the Dorchester, so I'm taking the initiative. I'm with Billy and Harry. Bell left the Rashid house with Michael, they followed to Michael's boat at Wapping, and I've joined them.'

  'Dillon, just listen to me.'

  'No, I'm going to listen to me, General. I'll let you know how it goes.'

  He switched off.

  'He wasn't pleased?' Harry asked.

  'Not really. He might be if we get a result.'

  'How do we play it?' Billy asked.

  Dillon took off his jacket and loosened his tie as he told them. He took but his Walther and slipped it into the waistband of his trousers at the rear.

  'So you do the face-to-face, Billy, and you cover him, Harry.'

  'Christ, Dillon, it's going to be cold in there.'

  'Never mind that. Just watch yourself, Billy. Bell's tricky.'

  'Don't worry about me. Think of yourself, Dillon. You're the one at the short end.'

  'Fine. Just let me g
o in, then do your bit.'

  Harry Salter crouched behind a bollard on the wharf. Dillon went down a ladder from the edge of the wharf and sank into the water. It was bitterly cold. He swam round to the other side of the Hazar and discovered, as he'd expected, a boarding ladder. It was then that Billy Salter approached the Hazar and called out.

  'Hey, are you there, Rashid, and that Irish fuck with you?'

  Bell said to Michael Rashid, 'You go to the stern, I'll take the bow, and don't screw around.'

  Rashid said, 'I can hold my own.'

  'Get on with it, then.'

  Bell left him to go up the steps to the deck and Rashid went back through the cabins and pulled himself up the transom into the shadows of the stern.

  Several things happened at the same time. Harry, behind the bollard, moved and Aidan Bell fired and hit Salter in the right shoulder. The force threw him back and Bell pulled himself over the edge of the wharf and scrambled away in the shadows.

  Michael Rashid fired several times and Billy returned fire. Rashid moved back against the rail… and Dillon reached up and pulled on his ankles and Rashid toppled over. Dillon got an arm around the neck, took a deep breath and reached for the anchor line to pull himself under. Rashid struggled, kicking, and Dillon hung on until the struggling stopped. From the shadows, Bell watched, then faded away.

  Dillon released the body and pulled himself up the ladder to the wharf. Harry was on his feet, groaning, Billy supporting him.

  'Sorry, Dillon, we've lost Bell.'

  'Michael Rashid is dead.' Dillon turned to Harry Salter. 'Get in the Shogun. You drive, Billy. Take us to Rosedene. I'll call Ferguson. He'll pull in Professor Henry Bellamy.'

  'Dillon, I'm getting too old for this,' Harry said.

  'Nonsense. We'll get Dora in to nurse you.'

  As they drove away, he called Ferguson. 'You're going to need the disposal team. Yes, Michael Rashid, You'll find him in the water off Hangman's Wharf by his boat, the Hazar.'

  'You did it yourself, I suppose.'

  'Bell got away after shooting Harry in the shoulder. We're on our way to Rosedene. Get Bellamy. If he's not available, Hannah's dad. Only the best.'

  'Consider it done, but Dillon, it would be nice if you talked to me sometimes.'

  At Rosedene, Dillon waited with Billy. Bellamy was busy doing a bypass operation at Guy's, but Arnold Bernstein had been available.

  Dillon said, 'Let's look in on Hannah.'

  'Suits me,' Billy said.

  She was sitting up, reading the Evening Standard, and looking far better than when Dillon had last seen her.

  'So, the two musketeers. Bring me up to date.'

  Which Dillon did.

  Afterwards, she sat there brooding. Dillon said, 'What do you think?'

  She was silent for a moment before she answered. 'Did anyone ever tell you the details of how Paul Rashid got his Military Cross in the Gulf War?'

  'No, what about it?'

  'Well, I've read the file. Villiers took twenty men behind the Iraqi lines in two Russian sand cruisers.

  Rashid was in charge of group two. Ten men. But he made a mistake. He radioed Villiers on a clear line when it looked like there was an emergency, and the Iraqis picked it up, homed in and took out every man in his command.'

  Billy said, 'Except Rashid?'

  'Exactly. However, when Villiers got to where Rashid was, there was no one there. Just seven Iraqi soldiers, all dead and all emasculated.'

  'And Rashid?' Dillon asked.

  'Reached the Allied lines ten days later, walking on his own.'

  Dillon said, 'Tony Villiers never mentioned this. Why not?'

  Hannah smiled and shook her head. 'That's a comfort – even the great Sean Dillon can be naive. Look, Rashid is an Earl. And the product of Sandhurst, the Grenadier Guards and the SAS. Now, whatever else those outfits taught you, it wasn't how to cut off your opponent's cock. So that we keep quiet about.'

  '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 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.'