The Dead Lie Down (Adam Lennox Thrillers: Book One) (26 page)

"In the 1960's Granger Bartlett was a supporter of the Republican cause in
Ireland. He gave the cause financial support and some respectability in Britain.
The cause thought that it would be advantageous to encourage his loyalty and
invited him to Ireland to see at first hand what the struggle was all about. He
came, he saw, but for some reason he didn't like the experience. He started to
get cold feet and talked of withdrawing his support."

Adam interjected. "So you decided to rope him in so he couldn't get out."

"We needed to ensure his involvement."

"Because you were already using his ships to smuggle arms for the struggle?"

O'Rourke hesitated, caught briefly off balance by the bold but true
statement.

"You seem remarkably well informed Mr Lennox."

Adam was busy scanning the room again, assessing odds. He wasn't sure how he saw
this being played out to a conclusion.

"I am blessed with foresight," he claimed. "Getting back to Granger, you decided
to rope him into something he couldn't get out of didn't you?"

Anna, who had been a silent and somewhat relaxed partner up until this stage,
sat upright in her chair as Adam continued.

"You involved him in an army patrol ambush."

O'Rourke put down the glass he had been holding and stepped closer to Adam. "He
was a fool, as naive as a child. We took him to a remote part of the country. We
said that we would leak information on his affairs to the press unless he
triggered some explosives."

Once again Adam butted in. "You told him that you were blowing up a road."

"Yes."

"But in actual fact you were blowing up a patrol of seven British soldiers."

"Yes. We were defending our country against the British army of occupation."

Adam hesitated. Out of the corner of his eye he could detect Anna getting more
and more agitated. He didn't like it because he didn't understand it. The last
thing he needed was a loose cannon.

"So seven soldiers died at his hands, and you knew that would be the hold that
you needed over him."

"That's what we thought."

"But it backfired didn't it? He wasn't as naive as you took him for. He
suspected something and was recording all the orders given to him that day.
Given to him by you, the leader of the IRA cell running the operation."

A
twitch started above O'Rourke's right eyebrow. "You know a lot more than you
were claiming to."

"Conjecture, all conjecture."

"So you say."

"What you didn't know and what nearly ruined everything for you was that,
unknown to you, an American journalist had joined the patrol that day..."

Adam didn't get the chance to finish the sentence because Anna had jumped to her
feet and had brought her automatic to bear on O'Rourke. No sooner had she moved
than everyone was on their feet and only a signal from O'Rourke prevented Anna
from being hauled to the floor by Messrs Brent and Holt. Her eyes jerked
feverishly left and right but the gun resolutely pointed at O'Rourke.

Adam broke the silence first. "Anna, what's going on?"

No sooner had he spoken than a new light entered her eyes and as Adam watched
she swung the automatic to face him.

She suddenly became very calm. "Dermot, Mr Lennox has an automatic in a groin
holster and a throwing knife in a belt sheath. I think we should deprive him of
both."

If ever Adam had doubts about the role of the butler it was confirmed then.
Butler training had some very odd aspects to it going by the efficiency with
which Brent disarmed Adam without giving any chance of retaliation or recovery.
Adam kept his eyes on Anna, all the unanswered questions loaded into a cool-ly
raised eyebrow. Very James Bond.

Anna lowered her gun and again addressed her words to O'Rourke. "He hasn't got
the package."

Adam recovered some outward composure whilst his brain toiled with a problem
worse than the Times crossword. "So I appear to have been nursing a viper to my
bosom," he said.

O'Rourke was watching him and appearing to enjoy the moment. "I'm sorry Mr
Lennox, you were not aware that Anna and I have had a very successful 'working'
relationship for some time. One has to keep an edge somehow," he said
modestly.

Adam resisted the temptation to smack him around the face. He took his eyes away
from Anna and turned to him.

"So Kemp knew you were going kill him and sent you on a wild goose chase after
me."

O'Rourke shook his head. "Hardly a wild goose chase. I'm confident that the
package will end up in your hands. All you need to do is to hand it over to
me."

"Somehow I feel disinclined to," said Adam, "Just to save your political neck,
for what it's worth."

He noticed a vein rising on O'Rourke's neck. A hit, a palpable hit.

O'Rourke's expression changed and the veneer of urbanity slipped slightly, giving
Adam a glimpse of the O'Rourke of old that Granger might have recognised. Mr
Nasty, thought Adam.

"I'm not going to bandy words with you Lennox. You will pass that package to me
if you don't want to follow the path that Kemp took."

Adam mulled that one over in his mind. Call my bluff was all very well but the
odds were against success. He noticed that the henchmen were slowly edging
closer to him, which could be a good or a bad thing. A mental coin was tossed.
Tails, it's always tails.

"Tell Tweedledee and Tweedledum to back off. I don't like being threatened."

"You should have thought of that before you got involved," retorted O'Rourke as
he got out of his chair.

Adam shook his head. "It was you that got me involved. I don't remember making the
choice."

O'Rourke stood thoughtfully for a moment. Adam half expected him to stroke his
chin. He was disappointed as O'Rourke turned to Anna.

"Where's Bel Trent at the moment?"

In a movement that would have required some careful film editing to bring it to
the big screen, Adam lunged at O'Rourke but was brought down by Holt before he
made any ground. Despite his face being ground into the carpet he still managed
some feeling into his words.

"Touch her and you'll think that the heavens had dropped on you." He paused.
"No, correction. Touch her and you'll wish that it was only the heavens that had
dropped on you."

He was dragged to his feet and unceremoniously dumped back into his chair, but
this time he could feel the gun barrel against the nape of his neck.

O'Rourke having taken a swift step back, now advanced towards Adam with a
menacing step but stopped just out of reach.

"You are a fool. Do you really think I am going to be threatened by you?"

Anna, having been very much a bystander now entered the floor show.

"We don't need to involve the girl. Come to that we don't need Lennox either. If
the package hasn't arrived yet then we can intercept it."

O'Rourke paused. "You're confident?"

She nodded. "I'm sure. Customs & Excise can 'arrange' it."

Even to Adam's optimistic nature this didn't look terribly promising. He began
to regret not taking out a higher life insurance, or having Mitch behind him,
which came to much the same thing. At best he was going to miss Match of the
Day, again.

The thought that had been nagging him on and off came back to him once again. He
tried a last throw of the dice.

"So, I'm intrigued. You're going to kill me just like you killed my wife? How
you going to make it look like an accident this time."

O'Rourke frowned and shook his head in puzzlement. "Kill your wife? I had
nothing to do with killing your wife. They tell me it was an accident."

Adam's brain jumped around a bit trying to think clearly. Something bothered him
but it wouldn't come, so he played for time. "So you believe everything your
henchmen tell you?"

O'Rourke appeared to ignore the question and something between a smile and a
grimace crossed his face. Adam checked for broken mirrors and drew a blank.

"I agree with Anna," declared O'Rourke. "You are too much of a risk." He turned
to Brent. "Take him to the farm. I don't want any risk of his body being
found."

That cheered Adam up.

Chapter 36

Brent and Anna were joined by another hoodlum who wasn't worthy of introduction
apparently, and Holt disappeared. Needless to say they left through the
tradesman's entrance, or in this case, exit. They came out into the yard at the
back of the house and Brent pinged the remote on a two-year-old Mercedes parked
by the old coal house.

The hired help get paid pretty well considering, thought Adam. He turned to
Anna.

"I don't get this double-triple agent bit. It's too much for my small bear's
brain. Do you actually work for the Customs or not?"

Anna shook her head in pity. "Don't worry yourself about it kiddo."

"But I do," bleated Adam. "I may lie awake at night tossing and turning about
it."

A
gun in his back reminded him that others were present.

"Knock it off," growled Brent. "This is going to be the last night you see, so
tossing and turning won't be a problem. Get in the car."

"But Mother always used to tell me not to get into cars with strangers,"
protested Adam. "I specifically remember. She said to be particularly wary of
men with guns. Of course she didn't use the word 'wary' because I was only six
at the time and didn't understand the meaning of the word..."

He stopped abruptly because the gun had dug him in the ribs again and he decided
he might push too far.

"Get in the car," growled Brent for the second time.

"Your friend's manners leave a great deal to be desired my dear," Adam remarked
to Anna before he was bundled into the back seat and settled himself in the
leather upholstery. All the same, he thought he'd caught a half smile from
her.

She got in behind the wheel and they took off through a rear access gate that
led to the farm track. They wound slowly out of the dell where the house stood.
The surface deteriorated as the track followed the edge of a field of oilseed rape.
Once Adam's head hit the roof of the car as it negotiated a particularly vicious
pothole and Adam decided it wouldn't take much to bottom it on the ridge in the
centre of the track. Explain that to the insurance company.

They rounded a bend and the car hit some deep ruts, which bounced them around
like marionettes. Adam took the opportunity, while Brent was intent on his own
safety, to reach out and in one swift movement he opened the door and rolled out
onto the verge.

How hard could it be? Bruce Willis did it dozens of times in Die Hard and came
up smiling. Indiana Jones did it several times before breakfast for goodness
sake.

Adam cracked his head on a boulder as he attempted to roll to a stop. Dazed but
in one piece he took off across an open field, running down the furrows. He
could feel blood trickling down his face and as he leapt from one furrow to the
next the horizon started to sway and lurch in front of him. He risked turning to
measure the pursuit and, horrified to find them so close, he missed his footing
and collapsed into a rolling heap on the ground.

Desperately aware of the need to keep moving he rose again just in time to aim a
karate punch that doubled up his pursuer on the ground. Unfortunately Adam's
equilibrium couldn't keep up and he went down again.

Seconds later he found himself kneeling on the damp earth, hands tie-wrapped
behind him. Brent took the opportunity to get in a swift kick that was
fortunately devoid of strength. Butlering obviously didn't do anything for the
fitness.

With some difficulty they regained the car and this time Adam found himself on
the floor with a size ten boot on his neck. Adam had a terrible sense of Deja
Vu.

"Move an inch and I'll wring yer bloody neck like a chicken," threatened Brent.
It sounded like he might enjoy it as well.

They moved, or more accurately stumbled, from the watery sunshine of late
afternoon, into the dark shadow of the disused farmhouse. The dust, cobwebs and
scurrying rats made testimony to its status. Not an auspicious stage on which to
end one's career Adam decided, but the vision of a sand dune came to him, and the
heat, and the smell of spent explosive, and the body parts of those who had been
his friends. Suddenly things didn't seem so bad, in fact he almost seemed light
hearted. Perhaps this is what you feel like when certain death faces you, and
not just an outside possibility. He felt an irrepressible desire to laugh.

Anna picked up on it as they moved from room to room.

"What's funny?" she demanded.

Adam smiled, if a little crookedly. "You wouldn't understand. Come to that I'm
not sure I understand." He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "So
what's in it for you on this little deal? What makes you play with the bad
boys?"

She stopped and turned to him. "I'm in it for me, and I don't have to justify
anything to you, believe me."

Something in her tone of voice didn't quite sound right to Adam. He couldn't put
his finger on it but it was as if she was reading from a script.

The group of four stopped in what had once been the large farmhouse kitchen,
devoid of the large table that would have dominated the space. Adam noticed that
the floor had been well scrubbed, and not that long ago either by the looks of
it. Relic of a hygiene conscious farmer's wife, or the scene of recent killings?
Was this their execution ground? The hired help seemed to think so.

"No, not here," said Anna, "Through in the next room."

"A more aesthetically fitting place to die is it?" enquired Adam, with a
nonchalance that didn't necessarily match his mood.

Brent raised an eyebrow to Anna, who seemed to be getting edgily frustrated.

"Just do it," she commanded, as if ambushing any dissent.

Whatever her relationship with O'Rourke, it was sufficient to carry enough clout to
achieve obedience, and they moved through to the next room.