by Hilary Green
By a coincidence, Liam Connor came home that day with a new car too. At least, it was new to him, but, like Stone’s Escort, Liam’s Cortina was well past its prime.
As Saturday approached Stone’s sense of uneasiness increased. He knew that Nick was covering the Speke end, but felt sure that there would be some move from Reilly and Co. as well; and he was not reassured by the fact that he had not caught a glimpse of Leo since she had signalled him about the message. His extra vigilance was rewarded when, early on the Saturday morning, the front door of the house opposite suddenly opened and Leo appeared with Margaret, Reilly and Liam. Patrick Connor, Stone had observed, had left the previous day and not returned.
Resisting the temptation to run downstairs and get into his own car Stone called Max and Don, still patiently on watch in the old factory where they had set up their headquarters, and waited until the Cortina turned the corner. Only then did he hurry down to the car and switch on the tracking receiver. Following the bleep from Leo’s replacement bug he nosed through the Saturday rush-hour traffic until he found himself out on the open road to the west of the city. A change in the pitch of the bleep warned him that his target had stopped and a moment later he saw the Cortina ahead of him, drawn up in a lay-by behind a Range Rover which was towing a trailer horse-box. As he cruised past he saw that Patrick Connor was at the wheel of the second vehicle and that Leo and Margaret were just being ushered into the back seat by Reilly. In his rear-view mirror, a moment later, he saw Liam ease the Cortina out into the flow of traffic. He reached for his microphone and called Max, knowing that he was somewhere nearby.
‘Theta One, this is Delta One. Targets have separated, Cortina now heading south with driver only. Please follow.’
‘Roger, Delta One,’ came the reply. Then, a few seconds later ‘Target in sight. I am following.’
Stone pulled into a side-road and waited until he saw the Range Rover go by. He gave it time to get well ahead and set off once again in pursuit. The track led him northwards and onto the M6, but then its course became erratic, leaving the motorway at the next junction and performing a wide loop to rejoin it further on. Stone’s jaw tightened. There was only one explanation – Reilly suspected that he might be followed and was checking up.
Eventually they left the motorway again and Stone had to close the distance in order to follow the signal through the Cheshire countryside. After some time he passed a ruined castle on a low hill and signpost pointing to Beeston; then the signal note changed again and he guessed that they had come to their destination. He rounded a bend and came upon a collection of buildings surrounded by concrete pens holding cattle and pigs, clearly a country market. Stone raised his eyebrows and muttered – ‘Hell of a long way to come to buy a pig!’ He pulled into the car-park and looked about him, but the whole area was sprinkled with trailers, many of them pulled by Range Rovers, and he could not see which was the one he had been following. The bleep was on the move again, and he guessed Leo was on foot and, presumably, heading into the market.
He left the car, pocketing the portable direction-finder, and headed in the same direction. The market was crowded and he could not use the gadget without attracting attention, so for a while he searched up and down the pathways between the pens in the hope of spotting Leo or one of her companions, only checking the signal occasionally. In a long building horses stood in stalls while prospective buyers strolled between them, but there was no sign of her there, either. Finally, he found a secluded corner behind one of the cattle pens and pulled out the direction-finder again. To his dismay, he found that the regular bleep had ceased. He swore softly and moved to a fresh position, hoping that the signal might have been shielded in some way, but the thing was still dead. He glanced at his watch. There had hardly been time for Leo to return to the car, or to some other vehicle, and get out of range; so there were only two possible explanations. Either his direction-finder was faulty, or for some reason which he did not wish to contemplate Leo’s bug had once again ceased to transmit.
He ran back to the car, praying that the first solution was the correct one, and switched on the machine attached to the dashboard. It too was silent.
*
When they arrived at the market Leo looked about her with interest. In spite of her sophistication, she had had a country girl’s upbringing and had never lost her love for that kind of life. As she walked between Reilly and Connor towards the main sale-ring she watched the horses being led from their boxes with a knowledgeable eye. It had been at just such a sale, two years ago, that she had bought Serendipity, the chestnut gelding which she kept at livery near the tiny Surrey cottage to which she retreated whenever she got the chance. She thought wistfully how long it had been since she last rode him, and the thought reminded her that if she wanted ever to ride him again she had better keep her wits about her.
She was sure that it was from here that Reilly intended to ship Margaret and herself off to Ireland and, all through the journey, she had been weighing the implications. After her experience in the quarry she had few doubts about the fate Reilly had in mind for her ultimately and, once across the Irish sea, she did not give much for her chances of avoiding it. On the other hand, she was aware that by going along with Reilly’s plan she might uncover some very useful information about how the IRA smuggled their people in and out of the country. Her sense of self-preservation told her that the knowledge would be of little use if she never got the opportunity to pass it on; but at that point her stubborn pride rose up and accused her of cowardice. Finally, she had compromised on the plan that she would go on until the last possible moment and trust to luck that she would be able to make a break before it was too late. The question was, how would she recognize that last possible chance?
Margaret, who had been fidgeting all through the last half-hour of the journey, had made a bee-line for the ladies’ room as soon as they arrived. Now Leo saw her pushing her way through the crowd towards them, her small face puckered into an expression of furious determination; but it wasn’t until their eyes met that Leo realized that Margaret’s change of mood had something to do with her.
‘Kevin, I must talk to you – it’s urgent!’ Margaret exclaimed, tugging at his arm.
He glanced from her to Leo and then allowed her to draw him away out of earshot. Leo watched them, feeling the hair rise on the back of her neck.
‘Why, hallo there, Patrick! It’s good to see you again!’
A tall, reddish-haired man was edging his way towards them through the crowd.
‘Michael!’ Connor responded. ‘Well, where have you sprung from?’
The two men shook hands with a contrived effusiveness which offended Leo’s professional sensibilities. ‘Oh great!’ she muttered inwardly. ‘Don’t call us, we’ll call you!’
The moment of inattention lost her the initiative. As the thoughts crossed her mind she felt the cold muzzle of Reilly’s pistol pressed into her back.
‘Don’t move, and don’t call out,’ he said softly in her ear. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t get far if I had to use this but at least I’d make sure you didn’t have a chance to tell anyone what you know.’
The red-headed man swung towards her.
‘Who is she?’ he demanded.
‘That’s what we’re just about to find out!’ Reilly told him.
Leo moved a fraction of a pace forward, easing the pressure of the gun against her ribs.
‘What the hell has got into you now?’ she inquired coldly.
‘Oh no!’ Reilly said, shaking his head. ‘From now on I’m asking the questions.’ He looked at the man called Michael. ‘Where’s the Horseman?’
‘Took the grey to the stables.’
Reilly glanced at Connor. ‘Find him. Tell him we may have been followed. He’s to make his own way and meet up with us at the next rendezvous. Then take her,’ he jerked his head towards Margaret, ‘to the car and keep her there till we come.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Margaret asked, whit
e-faced.
‘What I should have done days ago,’ Reilly returned. He looked again at Michael. ‘Where’s your box?’
‘In the car-park – over there.’ The big man nodded in the general direction.
‘Right, we’ll take her there. Come on.’
The red-headed man took Leo’s arm with something which might, at a distance, have been taken for protective chivalry and led her towards the car-park. Reilly followed a pace behind, the gun in his hand concealed under a folded raincoat. When they reached the horsebox Michael opened the door in the side and shoved Leo through. The interior of the box smelt of straw and fresh dung, smells which in other circumstances Leo would have found pleasantly familiar. At the end was a locker which formed a kind of bench. The big man pushed her onto it and Reilly came and stood looking down at her.
Leo leaned back against the partition behind her and met his gaze.
‘Come on, then. What’s it all about? Or are you just showing off for the benefit of your new friend?’
‘You tell us,’ Reilly replied grimly. ‘Starting with how your man Marriot comes to be lurking about out there somewhere.’
‘Marriot!’ Leo exclaimed. Her mind raced as she tried to follow the implications. She had assumed until that moment that Stone was the one who had been seen and, somehow, recognized.
‘Margaret walked straight into him not five minutes ago,’ Reilly said. ‘Now, you told us that no one, not even Marriot, knew where you were staying.’
‘I told no one,’ Leo said firmly. ‘The fool must have followed us.’
‘You said you were sure you weren’t being followed when you came back that night.’
‘So?’ Leo shrugged. ‘I was thinking of the police. Marriot’s good at his job. So what? He’s safe enough. He won’t betray you.’
‘Then what’s he doing here, spying on us?’ Reilly demanded.
‘Look, he thinks he’s in love with me. He’s probably doing some big, macho protective thing. Why don’t you go out there and find him? Let me talk to him.’
Reilly shook his head. ‘No, it won’t do. He didn’t follow you from Birmingham, because I made damn sure no one was following us. If he’d been anywhere in sight I’d have spotted him. And you didn’t tell him where to go because you didn’t know yourself. Unless…’ He turned to the red-haired man. ‘Search her.’ Leo submitted without resistance as he pulled her to her feet and ran clumsy hands over her body, knowing that any show of fight would only make the process more unpleasant in the end. The stubby fingers probed her jeans pockets and pulled open the front of her shirt.
‘Nothing obvious,’ Michael said finally.
‘OK.’ Reilly looked at her with narrowed eyes. ‘You’d best tell us where it is. Or have you ever been strip-searched? Oh, it’s something you get used to in prison! Only here we’ve no female wardress to carry it out – and no nice, hygienic polythene gloves to put on when we get to the delicate bits…’
He paused, staring at her. A sick revulsion crept through her stomach, but logic told her that it was possible they might do all that and still find nothing. In which case…
She lifted her head and looked at him with eyes brilliant with contempt.
‘So that’s it, is it, Reilly? Of course, I should have known all along.’ She began to unbutton the front of her shirt. ‘Come on, then. Amuse yourself!’
Reilly was breathing hard and she saw him pass his tongue over his lips. Lust – or fear? She held his gaze with deliberate provocation.
The hair!’ he said suddenly. Try the hair. It comes off, you know.’
‘Does it so?’
The big man grabbed at the auburn wig and, as he yanked it loose, a small metal object the size of a button clattered onto the floor of the horse-box; falling, as luck would have it, onto an area clear of straw. Reilly pounced on it and picked it up.
‘So, there we are!’ he exclaimed triumphantly. ‘I knew you were a phoney all along.’ He dropped the bug back onto the floor and smashed it under his heel. Then, for a long moment, he gazed at her in silence. When he spoke again the exultation had left his voice, leaving it deadly cold. ‘Now, let’s start from the beginning. Who are you, and who are you working for?’
‘Look,’ Leo said, angrily, ‘Marriot planted that on me. I didn’t even know it was there.’
Reilly caught her across the face with a back-handed slap that cracked her head back against the partition.
‘Now I know you’re lying. Come on, I’m not playing around any longer.’
He hit her again, twice, repeating, ‘Who are you? Who sent you?’
She looked up at him, licking a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.
‘Do you really think you’re going to make me talk – here?’
‘She’s right,’ the other man put in. ‘These things take time – and they make a noise. Leave her to me. When I get her home we’ll have all the time we need…’ He drew Reilly away to the far end of the van and spoke too softly for her to hear.
‘How do you think you’re going to get her through customs?’ Reilly demanded. ‘You may have her out of sight, but you won’t be able to keep her quiet.’
‘Oh, won’t I?’ the red-haired man said. ‘Don’t worry. We’re prepared for this sort of thing.’
He opened a small cupboard built into the partition and took out a box. Inside was a hypodermic syringe and an ampule.
‘It’s supposed to be for sedating the horses if they get restive,’ he said, grinning. ‘A shot of this and she’ll be out till we’re back in Dublin.’
Leo watched him filling the syringe and knew that once he succeeded in injecting her, her last chance would be gone. She glanced at Reilly. He, too, was watching Michael. She sensed that he was reluctant to let her go and while his mind was occupied with that thought the hand holding the gun had relaxed. It was a faint hope, but she snatched at it. In a single movement she thrust herself forward and kicked out as high and as hard as she could, using the strength and suppleness of her dancer’s body and the training provided by the experts at Triple S to deliver a blow as powerful and accurate as a machine. The gun flew out of Reilly’s hand and as his body slewed away from her, she hit him in the kidneys with a double-handed rabbit punch that felled him to his knees.
By that time, however, the other man was moving in on her, the syringe in his right hand, the left reaching out to grab hold of her. She seized his wrist and jerked him towards her, hoping to use his own momentum to unbalance him; but she might as well have tried to unbalance Nelson’s Column. He broke her grip with a single downwards jab and the next second his hand was around her throat, forcing her back against the side of the van and stifling her cries for help. She tried to kick out again, but the length of his arm was such that she could not reach him with her knee while he was too close for her to employ the full length of her leg. Then he threw his whole weight against her and she was pinioned against the wall, helpless and rapidly losing consciousness.
*
Stone was still staring in impotent fury at the direction-finder when his radio crackled into life.
‘Delta One, this is Delta Two,’ said Nick’s voice. ‘Do you read me? Come in, please.’
Stone grabbed the microphone. ‘Delta One here. Where are you, Delta Two?’
‘Thank God!’ he heard Nick say. Then, ‘Delta One, this is Delta Two. I guess I must be at the same place as you. Beeston Market?’
‘How the hell…?’ Stone exclaimed.
‘Listen!’ Nick, said urgently. ‘I think Omega may be in danger. I picked up the target at Speke, according to your message, and followed him here. There are two men, and one of them looks very familiar. I can’t give him a name, but I’m sure he was one of the faces that were circulated a few months back as possible INLA men working in the UK. Small, very slight, fair…’
‘Slattery,’ said Stone, whose memory for faces and names was one of his greatest assets.
‘Right!’ returned Nick. ‘Anyway, he’s
here. They came over with a big white horse, supposedly for sale. I followed them from the car-park and walked slap into the Donelly girl. She recognized me, of course, and smelt a rat at once. I tried to stop her, but she ran like a rabbit and I lost her in the crowd. If she’s got back to Reilly and told him it’ll give him all the excuse he needs to get rid of Omega. Is she with them?’
‘Yes, and now I’ll tell you the really bad news,’ Stone said grimly. ‘Omega’s bleep went off the air a couple of minutes ago.’
‘Oh Christ!’ Nick muttered miserably. ‘Why the hell didn’t you call me and let me know you were in the area?’
‘Come to that, why didn’t you call me?’ Stone returned. ‘But never mind that now. Where are you parked?’
‘North side of the parking area.’
‘What about the vehicle Slattery and his mate arrived in?’
‘About two rows ahead of me. It’s a horsebox with an Irish registration.’
‘Right,’ Stone said. ‘You get after Slattery and keep tabs on him. I’ll search for Leo.’
‘No. We’d better both concentrate on Leo,’ Nick replied.
‘Do as I say!’ Stone’s tone was crisp. ‘We can’t risk losing Slattery. Besides, they know you but they don’t know me.’
There was a fractional pause, then Nick said. ‘OK. Delta Two out.’ Partners and friends they might be, but at times like this there was never any argument about who was the senior.
Stone got out of the car and headed for the north side of the parking area. Failing any better clues, it seemed as good a place to start looking as any other.
He found the horse-box with its red Irish registration plates quite quickly and strolled casually along the length of it. From inside he heard a scuffle and a muffled thud. It could have been a restless horse – but had not Nick said he had seen them leading the horse away? Stone moved to the personal door at the side and paused, listening. The thuds were repeated. He opened the door silently and stepped inside. Towards the back of the box Reilly was leaning against the side, coughing painfully. Immediately in front of Stone Leo was almost hidden by the large form of a redhaired Irishman.