fire and lay on the couch. He slept surprisingly well, got up at seven and put the kettle on.
He stood at the open door looking out at the rain and noticed the creek on his right hand. On impulse, he went back inside, stripped, found a towel in the small bathroom and ran naked across the yard.
He draped the towel over a bush and plunged into the creek, swimming strongly to the other side, passing into the reeds for a while, disturbing wildfowl and birds of every description which rose in clouds into the rain, calling angrily. The salt water was cold and invigorating.
‘What a grand way to start the day,’ he said softly as he emerged from the creek and reached for the towel.
He went back to the cottage, towelling himself vigorously, then he dressed and made a cup of tea. There was milk, bread, eggs and bacon in the larder. He stood there, sipping tea, wondering whether to leave. He looked out and saw the Land Rover with Benny and Kathleen.
In London at the William & Mary Reid and Scully were getting ready to leave. Their search of Bell’s small office had yielded no clues.
Scully said, ‘Nothing, Mr Reid; what do we do?’
‘We go back to Belfast,’ Reid said. ‘Don’t worry. Ryan has got to come home and no place for him to hide. We’ll bide our time, but we’ll get the bastard in the end.’ He raised his voice. ‘Angus, get in here.’
Angus stumbled through the door. ‘Yes, Mr Reid.’
‘Anything – anything at all you can tell me?’
‘They took a train, that’s all I know. I did hear the Glasgow Express mentioned.’
‘Glasgow?’ Scully said. ‘Why would they go there?’
‘Not Glasgow, you fool. That line goes up through the north-west. They’ll get off somewhere.’ He turned back to Angus. ‘Anything else?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Angus brightened. ‘Oh, yes. The other week I overheard Mr Bell on the phone. It must have been a shipping office because he said he needed to charter a flat bottom ferry. The kind that could transport vehicles. After a while I heard him say the Irish Rose, Captain Tully and it’s here in London.’ Angus nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what he said.’
‘Did you hear him mention that name again?’
Angus nodded. ‘Just before they left I was in the stillroom checking bottles. I heard Ryan say to Mr Bell the Irish Rose is well on her way by now so we’ll see her Friday morning.’
‘But he didn’t say where?’
‘Definitely not.’
‘All right,’ Reid said. ‘You’ve got my number. You phone me in Belfast if you hear anything.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Another thing. Keep your mouth shut. Give me any trouble and I’ll send Scully to give you a seeing to. They’ll find you in the Thames with your balls cut off.’
Reid went through the door and Angus, plainly terrified, stood back. Scully patted his face. ‘You mind what Mr Reid says, there’s a good boy,’ and he went out.
Keogh ate the ham sandwiches Kathleen had brought, sitting at the end of the table, and she sat opposite, a mug of tea in her hands. Benny had gone back to the farm. Keogh finished it and lit a cigarette.
‘How are you? How do you feel?’
‘About the job, you mean?’ She shrugged. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ve done things for Uncle Michael before; dangerous things. I can look after myself.’
‘At your age you shouldn’t have to.’ He stood up. ‘Come on. We’ll get a breath of air.’
The mist drifted in, creating a strange and sombre world. Reeds lifted on either side of the creek, water gurgled in the mud flats and as they walked along the broad track, birds lifted in protest on either hand.
‘A strange place this,’ Keogh observed.
‘Yes, I’m not sure that I like it.’ She frowned. ‘It makes me feel uneasy.’
‘I know what you mean.’
They reached the jetty and paused. The tide was out and iron girders were exposed, corroded by rust.
‘I wonder what it was built for?’ she said.
‘God knows. Been here for years. Victorian from the look of it, but it still looks substantial enough.’
They walked along it, waves lapping around the girders below with a hollow booming sound. There was no rail at the end, only at the sides. Keogh peered over and noticed a jumble of granite blocks in the shallows.
‘There’s your answer,’ he said. ‘They must have shipped granite from here in the old days.’
‘I see.’
She stood to one side, hands gripping the rail, and looked out to sea, a strangely forlorn figure in her raincoat and beret.
Keogh leaned on the rail beside her. ‘What do you want, Kate? What do you really want out of life?’
‘God knows. All I’ve ever known was the Troubles. I was born the year they started. All I know is the bombing and the killing. My family, friends, all gone.’ Her face was bleak. ‘Life is supposed to be for the living but all I see is death. Does that make any sense to you?’
‘Perfect sense.’ Keogh nodded. ‘The terrible thing and you so young.’
She laughed. ‘You’re not exactly a greybeard yourself.’
‘A very old thirty-two,’ he said and he laughed.
Steps boomed along the jetty and they turned and saw Ryan coming towards them. ‘God, what a lousy day,’ he said.
Keogh pointed down into the water. ‘It’s to be hoped the tide is in at the right time tomorrow.’
‘It will be, I’ve double-checked and it’s a high one.’ He took out a cigarette. ‘One more thing. Hugh Bell is dead.’
‘My God,’ Kathleen said, ‘how did that happen?’
So Ryan told them.
As they walked back along the jetty Keogh said, ‘Reid can’t touch you once you’re back home with that transporter. All right, maybe your Army Council don’t like people going their own way and acting without orders, but you’ll be a bloody hero to them. They’ll welcome you with open arms when they hear about the bullion.’
‘Let’s hope so. It’s Reid I’m concerned about. Unless I miss my guess he’d like to have it all for himself.’
‘Well fuck him,’ Kathleen said angrily.
‘You mind your tongue, girl,’ Ryan told her.
‘But if he doesn’t
