by me.’
She dropped him at his cottage, but Dillon didn’t go in. He waited until the Daimler had turned the corner, rolled up the garage door, got into the old Mini Cooper he kept as a run-around, and drove away.
He was thinking about Harry Salter. Salter was a very old-fashioned gangster, now reasonably respectable, but not completely so, and he and his nephew, Billy, had been involved as much as anyone else in the feud that had led to the death of Kate Rashid’s brothers.
Traffic was as bad as London traffic usually is, but Dillon finally reached Wapping High Street, turned along a narrow lane between warehouse developments, and came out on a wharf beside the Thames. He parked outside the Dark Man, Salter’s pub, its painted sign showing a sinister individual in a dark cloak.
The main bar was very Victorian, with gilt-edged mirrors behind the mahogany bar, and porcelain beer pumps. Bottles ranged against the mirror seemed to cover every conceivable choice for even the most hardened drinker. Dora, the chief barmaid, sat on a stool reading the London Evening Standard.
At that time in the afternoon, before the evening trade got going, the bar was empty except for the four men in the corner booth playing poker. They were Harry Salter; Joe Baxter and Sam Hall, his minders; and Harry’s nephew, Billy.
Harry Salter threw down his cards. ‘These are no bleeding good to me,’ and then he looked up and saw Dillon and smiled.
‘You little Irish bastard. What brings you here?’
Billy turned in his chair and his face lit up. ‘Hey, Dillon, great to see you,’ and then he stopped smiling. ‘Trouble?’
‘How did you guess?’
‘’Cos you and me have been to hell and back more times than I can count. By now, I can tell the signs. What’s up?’
There was an eagerness in his voice and Dillon said, ‘I’ve been the ruin of you, Billy. You never used to be so willing to put yourself in danger. Remember when I quoted your favourite philosopher: “The unexamined life is not worth living”?’
‘And I said that to me it meant the life not put to the test is not worth living. So what’s up?’
‘Kate Rashid.’
Billy stopped smiling. They all did. Harry said, ‘I’d say that calls for a drink. Bushmills, Dora.’
Dillon lit a cigarette and Billy said, ‘Let’s hear it.’
‘Remember Paul Rashid’s funeral, Billy?’
‘Don’t I just. No mourners, she said, but you had to go anyway.’
‘And you said, “Is that it then?” and I said, “I don’t think so.” And then when we ran into her at the Dorchester, she sentenced us all to death.’
‘Well, she can try,’ Harry said. ‘As I told her then, people have been trying to knock me off for forty years and I’m still here.’
Billy said, ‘Look, what’s happened, Dillon? Let’s be having it.’
Dillon swallowed his Bushmills and told them everything. They’d worked with him and Blake Johnson in the past, knew all about the Basement, so there was no reason to hide anything. He finished by telling them what had happened at Loch Dhu and what he intended to do.
‘So you think she’ll be there tonight?’ Harry Salter asked.
‘I’m certain of it.’
‘Then Billy and I will be there, too. We’ll have another drink on it,’ and he called to Dora.
A little while later, Dillon punched the doorbell at Roper’s place. The Major said over the voice box, ‘Who is it?’
‘It’s Sean, you daft sod.’
The electronic lock buzzed, and Dillon pushed open the door. Roper was seated at his computer bank in his wheelchair.
‘I’ve had Ferguson on the line. He told me about Loch Dhu, but I’d like to hear it from you.’
Dillon lit a cigarette and told him. ‘So there you are. Pretty much as we thought.’
‘So it would appear.’
‘What have you got? Anything new?’
‘Well, I thought I’d see if I could trace Kate Rashid’s travel patterns. She uses a company Gulfstream, so I can access times easily enough – air traffic slots have to be booked – and I can ascertain when she’s been on board through Passport Control and Special Branch.’
‘Any significant pattern?’
‘Not much. She’s only been up to Loch Dhu once recently. Used the same old airstrip you did. Here’s something that might be interesting, though: she went to Belfast last month.’
‘Now that is interesting. Any thoughts on where she went?’
‘Yes. She landed late afternoon and had a slot booked back to Heathrow the following afternoon, so that seemed to indicate a hotel for the night. So I started with the Europa, accessed their booking records, and there she was.’
‘And why was she there?’
Roper shook his head. ‘That I don’t know. But if she does it again, I’ll let you know. You could follow her. Of course, it could be perfectly legitimate. Rashid Investments has taken a big stake in Ulster since peace broke out.’
‘Peace?’ Dillon laughed harshly. ‘Believe that, you’ll believe anything.’
‘I agree with you. After all, I was the one who defused a hundred and two bombs. Too bad it wasn’t a hundred and three.’ He patted the arm of the wheelchair.
‘I know,’ Dillon said. ‘You know, considering I was on the other side, I sometimes wonder why you put up with me.’
‘You were never a bomb man, Sean. Anyway, I like you.’ He shrugged. ‘By the way, if you want a drink, there’s a bottle of white wine in the fridge over there. It’s all I’m allowed.’
Dillon groaned. ‘God help me, but it will do to take along.’ He got the bottle from the fridge. ‘Jesus, Roper, it’s so cheap it’s got a screw top.’
‘Don’t moan about it, pour it. I’m a reserve officer on a pension.’
Dillon obeyed, and put a glass at Roper’s right hand while Roper played with the keys. Dillon took a swallow and made a face. ‘I think someone made this in the backyard. What are you looking at now?’
‘Rupert Dauncey. Quite a character, but nothing we don’t know about him already. There’s something about him, though, a ruthlessness, always on the edge. There’s a dark side to that one.’
‘Ah, well there’s a dark side to all of us. Can you tell if he was with Kate on the Irish trip?’
‘There are Special Branch regulations regarding passengers
