Dead Men Don't Bite (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series)

by Andrew Towning

  Dillon was instantly taken by her beauty. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Annabelle. I was sorry to hear about your father, how’s he fairing today?”

  “About the same I’m afraid, but at least his condition is stable now, and thank you for asking.” She noticed how his whole face radiated charm and warmth when he smiled. “I suppose we might as well have a drink,” LJ said.

  Dillon caught the wine waiter’s attention and ordered a bottle of Krug Champagne. He smiled amiably across the table at LJ, who looked back at him with a stiff reprimanding glare.

  “LJ, has told me a lot about you, Jake.”

  “Has he now, all bad I’ve no doubt?” Dillon said looking across at LJ who was sat opposite him.

  “On the contrary, he tells me that you’re a man with a reputation.”

  “Really. Well I only hope that I can live up to it.”

  “I’m sure you will. But tell me, what is it you actually do?”

  The headwaiter came over, and informed LJ, that there was a telephone call from his office, and that he could take it at the bar. Somewhat embarrassed, he excused himself from the table. when he was out of earshot Annabelle gave Dillon a lopsided smile, and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, my father is always telling me that I ask far too many questions for my own good.”

  Dillon smiled back at her, “Annabelle, I must ask you a question, and please forgive my directness. Is there anything that you are holding back about the location of the U-boat that your father found?”

  “As I told, LJ. My father has always been exceptionally good at keeping secrets. All that he really said to me was that under normal sea conditions it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to dive there. Which means that it’s somewhere around the northern coast of Jersey. Which also means, that you should be able to narrow it down considerably once you get over there.”

  “That is, unless your father regains consciousness, my dear, in which case we’ll know exactly where to look. That was Guy Roberts on the phone just now. Apparently the hospital left a message with him, Nathan is making good progress and improving by the day which is the best news we could have wished for.” LJ said as he sat down in his chair. “Now, shall we order?”

  Annabelle and Dillon both ordered large wild field mushrooms followed by the headwaiter’s recommendation of lobster. LJ had best Aberdeen Angus steak, Pierre knew exactly how he liked it to be cooked, briefly shown the flame on both sides to seal in the flavour, and rare through the middle. All through lunch, Dillon chatted to Annabelle about her life on Jersey, treading carefully around the subject of her father’s discovery. But, subtly fishing for any snippets that she might be able to remember. After an hour of listening to them, LJ said that he had a meeting to go to on the other side of town, and left. Dillon smiled, knowing only to well that his boss would have invented the meeting, so that he could legitimately leave Dillon alone with the girl. The wily old fox was still as sharp and astute as ever, Dillon thought to himself.

  * * * There were five people in LJ’s office the following morning. Annabelle sat between Dillon and Vince Sharp on the old leather Chesterfield sofa, while LJ paced around the room like a caged tiger. The upright man, sitting at the head of the long boardroom table, looked comfortable wearing a charcoal grey pinstripe suit over a white shirt and old school tie. Sir Lucius Stagg opened the file before him, and then raised his gaze towards the other people in the room.

  “Now then, to business. I see from the report in front of me, that you are no closer to ascertaining the location of the cavern in Jersey. Edward, what the bloody hell is going on man? Why isn’t Dillon already there, doing whatever it is he does? And what is this I see from Mr Sharp’s report that three snooping devices were found at Belgrave Mews as well as your bloody phone being tapped?”

  “Yes, we do seem to have picked up a snooper, Sir Lucius. Extremely annoying and unfortunately we are still completely in the dark as to who it might be or what it is they actually want. My guess is that it’s most definitely connected to Nathan Cunningham. I’ve got Guy Roberts scanning all of the wartime databases for any possible connections. In the meantime we’re pushing on, and Phil Allerton will be flying Jake and Vince down to Jersey tomorrow afternoon. A property has already been rented at Bonne Nuit bay, which will serve as an ideal base to work from, and their cover story has already been activated. Obviously, if Commander Cunningham were to regain consciousness, he’d be able to tell us exactly where that cavern is located, and of course that would change everything.” LJ looked over at Annabelle and gave her a fatherly smile.

  “Very good, Edward.” Sir Lucius turned to look directly at Annabelle. “Miss Cunningham, I knew your father when he was a serving officer. He’s a good man and you’ve only to ask if there’s anything that I or Edward here can possibly do to help.”

  “Thank you, Sir Lucius, you’ve all been so kind and helpful already. I’m very grateful to you all.”

  “It’s the least we can do in the circumstances.” Sir Lucius glanced down at the open folder in front of him and then closed it.

  “Mr Dillon, it would appear that you and Mr Sharp now have the onerous task of locating that cavern, before I might add, anyone else does.” The old man looked at Dillon, and then got up from his chair. Picking up the file, he tucked it under his arm.

  “Miss Cunningham, it was a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen I wish you luck. Edward, keep me posted.”

  “Yes sir, I will.” LJ opened the door for the former British Prime Minister as he left.

  As LJ came back in to the room, Dillon said, “So, Phil Allerton is flying Vince and I down to Jersey tomorrow afternoon is he? That doesn’t leave us much time to sort out the special equipment that we’re going to need for this assignment.”

  “Such as?” LJ asked.

  “Explosives; of the underwater variety and of course weapons.”

  “Weapons, old son?” LJ said, disturbed by the very suggestion.

  “Yes, weapons. I’ll require a Glock automatic pistol, and for good measure a machine pistol with extra rounds. Oh, and a twelve gauge shotgun, preferably sawn off, for Vince.” Dillon knew his boss from old, and added. “Only joking, but we will require the underwater explosives just in case the entrance to the tunnel is blocked.”

  “Okay, I’ll speak to my contact over at the Ministry of Defence, I shouldn’t think that will be a problem. But as for the firearms the answer is definitely no, do I make myself clear, Jake?”

  “Absolutely crystal clear, LJ.” Dillon and his boss had this conversation every time he embarked on an assignment for Ferran & Cardini. As long as LJ had voiced his disapproval, and rejected Dillon’s request in front of witnesses, he could report to the Partners with a clear conscience. A case of what he didn’t know, didn’t worry him. Dillon as always would procure the weapons that he wanted from his usual source in the East End of London.

  Dillon walked out of the Ferran & Cardini building into brilliant sunshine and stood smoking a cigarette by the wharf side. LJ and Annabelle joined him a few minutes later.

  * * * Slater and Black were sitting in the Ferrari, patiently watching from a short distance away. They had a clear view of the two men in dark business suits, and the young attractive woman standing by the water’s edge talking. The flash Italian sports car stood out like a brassy street prostitute at a Downing Street drinks party, surrounded by the array of sober executive saloon cars that were parked around it.

  Dillon said to LJ, “Don’t look round, but are you aware that we’re being watched?”

  “Who by, and where?” LJ asked.

  “The red sports car parked forty metres up the road. Looks like two men inside.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “Nothing, they’re just sat looking this way.”

  At that moment a traffic warden came around the corner and started to walk up the road towards the bright red sports car. Black started the engine, and pulled out from the kerb, turned right at the nex
t side road and was gone.

  LJ glanced round, “Well they’re not there now.”

  “Trust me, my instincts tell me that they were definitely watching us.”

  “Perhaps you’re right, Jake. On the other hand you could just be a little paranoid?”

  “Is that a fact? Well I’ve only lasted this long by trusting my gut instincts, and they tell me that we’ve got ourselves a couple of bad guys there.”

  The Mercedes drew in to the pavement by the dock area and Guy Roberts got out, and walked over to them.

  “Are you ready to leave, sir?”

  “Yes Roberts, Miss Cunningham and I will be stopping off at the hospital to visit her father. Jake, we will continue our chat later, now let’s get moving,” and he led the way back to the car.

  As the Mercedes was driving over Westminster Bridge towards Parliament Square, LJ’s mobile phone sounded, Roberts glanced up at the rear-view mirror, but paid no attention to the bright red Ferrari four cars back.

  “Oliver, good to hear your voice.” LJ said, and listened without interruption.

  “Of course, Oliver, I’d be delighted to meet with you later. What, you’ve got to do your duty this afternoon have you, well I can think of worse places to spend time than the House of Lords, old son, how does two-thirty sound. Good, well that’s settled then, I’ll come straight over immediately after I’ve visited Commander Cunningham in the hospital.” He hung up and twisted around slightly to face Annabelle who was sitting in the rear seat with him.

  “I’m sorry for that interruption, my dear, that was, Oliver Asquith the archaeologist fellow over at the British Museum who I told you about. He’s a useful chap, but very nervous, though.”

  The Mercedes pulled up outside of the City hospital main entrance.

  “Roberts, contact Mr Dillon, and tell him to meet me outside of the House of Lords at two fifteen prompt. Please inform him that this is non-negotiable, and please be back here at two o’clock sharp to collect me.”

  “Yes sir,” and then he plucked up the courage to add. “Please forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, sir. But is it a good idea, taking Mr Dillon to meet Lord Asquith?”

  “Roberts, you are an astute young fellow, but let me tell you this. By the time you get to my age, you will hopefully understand the old saying of, putting the cat amongst the pigeons. The knack, however, is to know how far to stand back while watching the feathers fly.”

  LJ and Annabelle went into the hospital. Roberts, none the wiser and totally confused by what his boss had just said to him engaged drive, and eased the Mercedes silently out into the traffic. At the same time the red Italian sports car pulled into the kerb a short distance up the road behind it. Sharp remained seated behind the wheel, while Black got out and casually walked into the hospital.

  * * * At two fifteen, Dillon stepped out of a black London cab, paid the driver and made his way through the crowds of tourists towards the Peer’s entrance of the House of Lords. LJ was already waiting for him at the security checkpoint when he arrived. Two men stood a short distance away, looking directly at them. Dillon turned around, and spotted them immediately, but in the same moment they disappeared into the sea of sightseers.

  They entered the main entrance hall, and were asked to wait there until Lord Asquith came to meet them. Dillon said, “Those two men in the red Ferrari who I spotted this morning. Well, I’ve just seen them again outside.”

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  “As sure as I’m standing here beside you. One minute they were stood over by the railings just staring at us, and the next they’d been swallowed up by the throngs of people milling around out there. But, I’m positive that it was them.”

  Oliver Asquith came through a doorway marked, Private - Peers only. Looking around he spotted LJ, and walked over to greet him.

  “Oliver, let me introduce to you, Jake Dillon.” LJ said shaking the other man’s hand.

  “Good to meet you, Mr Dillon.” Asquith’s handshake was limp and his palm sweaty. “I’ve arranged for tea to be sent up to one of the private meeting rooms, if that’s alright with you gentlemen?”

  “Lead on Oliver, that sounds like a splendid idea to me.” LJ replied.

  Dillon kept quiet, allowing LJ to talk for them both while he studied Asquith, who appeared to be jumpy and on edge all of the time. After about five minutes, a stout woman in her early sixties came into the oak-panelled room carrying a large tray, laden with tea and biscuits .

  Once she’d left, Asquith said, “Has Commander Cunningham regained consciousness yet, Edward?”

  “No, unfortunately he’s still in a coma. But the doctors do say that his condition is stable, and that it’s simply a matter of waiting now.”

  “So does this mean that you’re still no closer to locating the cavern in Jersey?” Asquith had taken out his white handkerchief, and was dabbing the sweat from his forehead with it.

  “I’m afraid, that’s still the case at the present time. However, it’s not going to stop me sending Jake and my technical operations man, Vince Sharp down to Jersey tomorrow by helicopter.”

  “Do you really think that they’ll be able to actually find the location of the cavern. What I mean is, where will they start?”

  “Suffice to say Oliver, that if Jake Dillon, can’t find it. Then no one will be able to.” LJ glanced over at Dillon, and smiled mischievously at him.

  “And what do you think, Mr Dillon?” Asquith asked. Dillon noticed how the archaeologist was constantly wringing his hands.

  “Oh, I’d say that we have a fair chance of finding it, Lord Asquith. Even with the odds stacked somewhat against us. But tell me what is your interest in all of this?”

  “My interest,” Asquith’s voice had risen, and taken on an aggressive edge, “is solely with the Spear of Destiny, Mr Dillon. I’m sure that your employers have told you this already, but if the diary kept by the U-boat Commander, Otto Sternberg is proven to be correct, well I think it’s fair to say, that we should find the spearhead somewhere inside that submarine. This is beyond doubt the same one that Hitler stole from the Hofmuseum in Vienna on the 12th March 1938. The day he annexed Austria. I don’t know what your religious beliefs are, Mr Dillon. But it’s the spearhead that the Roman Centurion, Gaius Cassius Longinus used to pierce the side of Jesus. I won’t bore you with a history lesson, but trust me when I say, that this would be truly the discovery of the century, and that is why I am taking such an avid interest in this matter.”

  “So it has nothing to do with the U-boat or the cavern itself then?” Dillon looked, Asquith in the eye as he spoke.

  Asquith’s reaction was exactly as he had expected, completely controlled. But Dillon had hit a nerve. “Absolutely not, Mr Dillon.”

  “No of course not, please forgive me. But your father the late, Lord Asquith was a foremost authority on religious antiquities, and in particular the Spear of Destiny, was he not?”

  “Yes, Mr Dillon, he was. My, how you’ve done your homework, haven’t you?” Walking over to the window he stared out of it, and after a brief moment he added, “However, I must correct you on one point. My father wasn’t merely a foremost authority. He was the only person in the world at that time that could authenticate the genuine spearhead.” Asquith paced around the room, agitated by Dillon’s questioning and his own lack of self-control.

  LJ put his cup down on the highly polished surface of the desk and looked at his watch. “Good God, is that the time already. Oliver, old son, we’ve got to get going. Damned meeting to go to, you know what it’s like.” He got up off his chair and put his coat on, Dillon was already standing by the door.

  “But I really did want to discuss what it is you intend to do next, Edward?”

  “Sorry, old son. We’ve really got to dash, but I’ll give you a call when I’ve got something to report, say in a day or two.” LJ and Dillon left, Asquith went over to the telephone, picked up the receiver and dialled a number.

  Walking down th
rough the austere corridors Dillon said. “I don’t trust him, he sweats too much, has a limp handshake, and constantly wrings his hands. I’d say that he’s either a nervous wreck, which I very much doubt, or he’s a man with something to hide. I’ll stay with the latter.”

  “I agree, perhaps a quite chat off the record with Simon Digby over at MI5 would be in order?”

  “Is that little rodent still there?”

  “Married the DG’s youngest daughter. Smart boy.” LJ remarked as they walked through the Old Palace Yard towards Cromwell Green. Big Ben struck four o’clock as they got in to the rear seat of the Mercedes and were driven away.

  Chapter Six

  Simon Digby was sitting at his MI5 desk, and on the flat-screen monitor in front of him, a satellite image of London. He was so engrossed with what he was doing, that when the intercom sounded, it startled him. “Yes Sarah?” He said, still studying the moving image.

  “Mr Levenson-Jones is on his way up to see you, sir.”

  “Thank you Sarah.” He switched off the monitor, got up from his desk, and walked towards the sliding glass door, which moved silently to one side as he approached it. Stepping out in to the corridor, he adjusted his tie just as Edward Levenson-Jones came around the corner towards him. “Edward, long time no see. How are you?” He said shaking the other man’s hand vigorously.

  “It must be six months, Simon, and I’m extremely well thank you.” LJ said with a smile that masked what he was really thinking. Dillon is quite right, you really are a smarmy loathsome little rodent.

  “I see that there have been a few changes made since the last time I was here, Simon?”

  “Oh, you know what it’s like. The top brass insists that we move forward with the times, away from the old ways and image of your time, Edward. Quite frankly, the changes that have been made to the service since you left, have virtually made it unrecognisable.” Digby led the way back into his office, going straight behind his desk and sitting down, he said, “So tell me, Edward, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”