Drink With the Devil (8 page)

Benny had his hands over his ears in spite of the silencer and Kathleen’s look of astonishment was something to see. Keogh didn’t say a word, simply ejected the clip and refilled it.

It was Ryan who put it into words. “Here endeth the lesson. Now let’s turn in. It’s going to be a hell of a day tomorrow.”

A
BOUT FOUR MILES
south of Marsh End and some five miles off the coast, the
Irish Rose
was on course, rolling heavily in a troubled sea, winds four to five. In the wheelhouse, the German, Muller, was at the wheel. Tully sat at the chart table, a cardboard box in front of him, and the crew crowded round.

“Seven or eight handguns in there so take your pick. I want every man armed.”

Dolan took a Smith & Wesson .38. “This will do me fine.”

The others helped themselves. Jock Grant, the engineer, said, “What’s our estimated time of arrival?”

“About eleven o’clock in the morning, but I can’t be sure. I mean, I don’t know this Marsh End place, so navigating could be awkward and we need to go in on the tide.”

“So what happens?” Dolan asked.

“I don’t know is the answer. When Bell first spoke to me he said we’d to be ready to leave late afternoon. He said the tide would be turning then and the timing was essential. We’ll go in and wait. I mean, Ryan’s bound to turn up to finalize things.”

“But he’s bound to expect trouble after what happened,” Dolan persisted.

“Look, he doesn’t have any choice. Once he has that truck, he’s got to get it away. I’ll tell him it was all a mistake, that I didn’t mean any harm, that I was just making sure everything was on the level, that’s all. What happens when we get to sea is another matter.”

Dolan said, “But that little Keogh bastard is red hot. I mean, look what he did to your ear.”

“I’m not forgetting, but just remember, there’s five of us and only Ryan and Keogh and the girl, and she’s the key. If we can get our hands on her, Ryan will cave in soon enough. We’ll have to make it up as we go along. We won’t hit the Irish coast till dawn. I’ll think of something, but to start with, everybody behaves.”

“I don’t know.” Bert Fox sounded dubious. “It could get nasty.”

Tully exploded in anger. “The biggest payday ever. Are you in or out? Make your minds up.”

It was Dolan who spoke for all of them. “We’re with you, Mr. Tully, no question. Isn’t that right, lads?”

There was a chorus of approval and Tully said, “Get back to work.”

They all went, leaving Muller at the wheel. Tully went out on the bridge and stood there staring into the darkness. He touched his bandaged ear, which still hurt like hell, and it was Keogh he was thinking of and what he’d do to the little bastard when the time came.

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING
when Keogh rose at seven, the weather seemed to have deteriorated. There was heavy mist now over the marsh, and when he opened the front door, the rain was relentless.

He made a cup of tea and shaved at the kitchen sink. There was a small portable radio on the windowsill. He switched it on and managed to find the early morning BBC news broadcast. He continued to shave and was wiping his face clean when the weather forecast came on and he listened intently. For the Irish Sea it was winds three to four with some sea fog and rain squalls.

Which could have been worse. He finished his tea and started to dress when there was the sound of a vehicle outside. He pulled on his boots and went to the window and saw Kathleen getting out of the Ford.

Keogh took his reefer down from a peg and opened the door. “Another dirty old morning,” he said cheerfully.

“We thought you’d like a proper breakfast. I’ve come to fetch you.”

“Now isn’t that the kind thought?” He got into the passenger seat. “First we’ll take a run to the end of the jetty. I’d like to see how things are.”

“Fine by me.”

She drove along the broad track and moved on to the jetty stopping just before the end. Keogh got out and went and peered over and she joined him.

“Only a few feet of water down there at the moment,” he said. “The tide must be way out.”

“And that’s bad?”

“They wouldn’t get in. Still, it’s supposed to start turning around about ten-thirty.” He looked out to sea. “Pity about this damn mist.
Irish Rose
could be hove-to out there, but we can’t see.” He smiled suddenly and squeezed her shoulder. “Never mind, it’s going to be fine. I have a good feeling about it. Now let’s get that breakfast.”

A
ND THE
I
RISH
R
OSE
, Muller at the wheel, was indeed hove-to about a mile out. Tully stood on the bridge with Dolan peering into the mist.

“God damn this weather,” Dolan said. “Can’t see a thing.” He turned to Tully. “Is it off?”

“Is it, hell,” Tully said. “If there’s one thing I do well it’s navigate, you know that. No, we wait for the turn of the tide and go in.” He turned fiercely. “Nothing stops me getting my hands on that truck. Nothing,” and he went into the wheelhouse.

I
T WAS ABOUT
half past ten and Keogh and Ryan were in the barn carefully checking the weapons again. Keogh picked up the Walther in the ankle holster.

“Can I take this? I’ve always liked an ace in the hole myself.”

“Be my guest.”

“I’ll put it on just before we leave,” and he put it in the pocket of his reefer.

“Everything else goes with us in the large case,” Ryan said. “I’ll bring it with me in the transporter.”

“Just in case we have to impress friend Tully?”

“Exactly.”

Kathleen looked in. “I’m going down to Marsh End in the Ford with Benny. He thinks he’s lost some sheep and they might have wandered that way.”

“All right,” Ryan told her. “But if there’s any sign of the
Irish Rose
, don’t go near. Martin and I will be along in a wee while in the Land Rover.”

“I’ll see you there,” she said and went out.

K
ATHLEEN LEFT THE
Ford outside the cottage and she and Benny walked down the track into the marsh. It was still raining heavily and very misty. Suddenly there was the sound of a sheep baaing over on the right. Benny paused, a curiously intent look on his face, and then he smiled and nodded and moved off at surprising speed considering his size, and Kathleen went after him.

There were five sheep, standing in water up to their bellies, marooned from the look of it, as miserable as any living creature could be. Benny laughed, waded through the creek, picked one up, and carried it across to dry land.

“Good,” he said.

Kathleen nodded. “I’ll walk down to the jetty,” and she turned away as he waded back to the other sheep.

She walked along the track, cocooned in mist, and somewhere a dog barked and then the
Irish Rose
emerged as she went forward, moored stern first against the end of the jetty. The ramp wasn’t down yet for the tide was still too low, and a boy of perhaps twelve in a hooded anorak stood watching. He had a fishing rod in one hand and a small terrier at his heel.

The legend
Irish Rose
was plain across the stern and the boy moved forward to examine it. As he did so, Tully vaulted over the rail.

“Now then, you little bastard, what do you want?”

He grabbed the boy by the front of his anorak and shook him, and Kathleen Ryan ran forward. “You great bully, let him go.”

She struck out at Tully, who released his grip in astonishment, and the boy turned and ran away followed by the dog.

Tully grabbed for the girl’s wrist. “So it’s you, is it?”

“Leave me be.”

She slapped his face and Dolan and Fox appeared at the stern, laughing. “A hot one there, Captain. Needs sorting out. Are you up to it or do you need help?”

Tully was angry now as she slapped at him again. “You little bitch. I’ll teach you.”

He had both her wrists now and pulled her toward him and somewhere there was a terrible cry and Benny arrived on the run. He grabbed Tully from behind, pulling him away, and threw him to the ground. Then he turned to the girl.

“You go now.”

Tully scrambled up and punched him in the back. Benny swung an arm backwards and knocked him down again with casual ease and Tully cried out, “Dolan, get down here.”

Dolan and Fox vaulted the rail, Fox carrying an iron bar. Benny took a fist in the face from Dolan with no apparent ill effect, but punched him in the breastbone in return, knocking him onto his back.

Kathleen screamed, “Stop it!”

Fox rushed in wielding his iron bar. Benny actually took the blow on his left arm, twisted Fox’s wrist so that he dropped the bar. Then he gave him a slap backhanded that spun Fox around and sent him on his face.

“Benny, look out!” Kathleen called.

Tully had got to his feet and picked up the iron bar. He swung at Benny’s skull, but the big man turned just in time so that it bounced off his shoulder. He tore the iron bar from Tully’s hand, then wrapped his great hands around his throat and actually lifted him off his feet.

There was a shot, flat in the rain, and Keogh and Ryan ran out of the mist. “Benny, no!” Ryan called out.

Benny paused, still holding Tully off the ground, then gently lowered him. Tully collapsed groaning, sitting on the ground, head on his knees.

“What brought this on?” Ryan asked.

She told him. When she was finished, Keogh said, “So some boy saw the boat. So what? It might mean something later, but not now.”

“I agree.” Ryan turned to Benny. “Good lad, Benny, for looking after Kathleen. Back to the farm with you now.” He nodded to her. “Go with him. We’ll sort things here.”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Michael.”

“Not your fault, girl. It comes from having to deal with scum.”

She took Benny’s hand and led him away. Tully, Dolan, and Fox were on their feet, distinctly the worse for wear. Ryan stood looking at them.

“What a sorry bunch of shites you are. Go on, get on board before I forget myself and shoot the lot of ye.”

I
N THE WHEELHOUSE
Tully sat at the chart table, the rest of the crew grouped around him. Ryan said, “The only reason I’m talking at all is that I need you. We’ll be back here between four-thirty and five with the transporter, so you be ready for sea, do you understand?”

The crew shifted uncomfortably. It was Tully who said, “Yes, we’ll be ready to go.”

“You came snooping at the William and Mary,” Ryan said, “so Mr. Keogh informs me. Now why would you do that?”

“I was worried,” Tully said. “I just wanted to make sure everything was kosher.”

“It’s kosher enough for me to promise to blow your fucking head off if you try anything on the trip to Kilalla. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Good, we’ll be off now and you be ready to leave at the appropriate time.”

He went down the ladder followed by Keogh and then crossed to the rail and dropped down to the jetty.

“What do you think?” Keogh asked.

“Oh, they’ll try to cut our throats halfway across.”

“And doesn’t that bother you?”

“Why should it? That’s why I have you along, Keogh.”

D
OLAN SAID
, “W
HO
was that bloody great ape, King Kong?”

“I don’t know,” Tully replied and massaged his neck. “I thought I was on the way out.”

“So what happens now?” Fox demanded.

“We wait. We do as we’re told. Just remember one thing. When we put to sea, King Kong won’t be along for the ride. The boot will be on the other foot then.”

J
UST BEFORE THREE
, Keogh stood beside the Montesa in the barn and pulled on the biker’s leather jacket. He lifted the dark cord slacks he was wearing above the right ankle and strapped the Walther into place. He slipped the silenced version into the back of his waistband under the jacket and was ready to go.

Kathleen was wearing a denim jacket and jeans and she carried the Colt .25 in an inside pocket. Ryan inspected the inside of the weaponry case, then snapped it shut and put it in the back of the Ford.

He turned to them, embracing Mary Power, then took Benny’s hand. “We’re going now, Benny, you understand?”

Benny nodded eagerly. “Yes, Uncle Michael.”

“You do as Aunty Mary tells you.”

“Yes, Uncle Michael.”

“You’re a good lad.” Michael Ryan turned to Kathleen and Keogh. “Time to go then, the moment of truth.”

A
ND IT WAS
just like the test runs, Keogh told himself, trailing the Ford on the Montesa and the damn rain. Didn’t it ever stop up here? The Ford pulled into the lay-by, he swerved to one side and halted. Ryan was round the back of the Ford, the door wide and opening the big case. He took out one of the AK assault rifles, stock folded, came across, unzipped Keogh’s leather jacket, and shoved it inside.

“On your way, boy.”

Keogh gunned the engine, reaching eighty in fifteen seconds, arriving at the junction in three minutes. He pulled in and waited.

W
HEN THE GREEN
and white transporter with
Shelby Meat Importers
on the side drove by so exactly the same as the replica, it had a dreamlike quality to it as if it was not really happening, and he hurriedly switched on his radio.

“Eagle One to Eagle Two. Target on course.”

There was a pause and then a crackle. “Eagle Two — message received. Come home.”

Keogh put the radio away, gunned his engine, and went after the truck fast. For a few seconds he trailed it, then pulled out to overtake, one arm raised in salutation, went round a bend ahead, and disappeared.

“Crazy bastard,” the transporter driver said to the two security guards sitting in the cabin behind him. They wore blue serge suits, for uniforms would have given the game away, but each man carried a Browning in a shoulder holster.

“Probably kill himself one of these days,” one of them said. “Guys like that usually do.”