A Prayer for the Dying (v5)

by Jack Higgins

  He said quietly, 'They're free and I'm not, Jenny. Can you understand that?'

  When he took his right hand out of his pocket, blood dripped from the fingers. She said, 'You need a doctor.'

  'I need Dandy Jack Meehan and no one else,' he said. 'Now let's get out of here.' And he turned and led the way back along the track to the car.

  15

  The Wrath of God

  Meehan was feeling pleased with himself, in spite of his broken nose, as he and Bonati walked past the town hall. Pleased and excited. His Homburg was set at a jaunty angle, the collar of his double-breasted melton overcoat was turned up against the wind, and he carried a canvas holdall containing the bomb in his right hand.

  'I know one thing,' he said to Bonati as they crossed the road. 'I'd like to know where our Billy is right now. I'll have the backside off him for this when I see him.'

  'You know what it's like for these young lads when they get with a bird, Mr Meehan,' Bonati said soothingly. 'He'll turn up.'

  'Bloody little tarts,' Meehan said in disgust. 'All that lad ever thinks of is his cock-end.'

  He turned the corner into Rockingham Street and received his first shock when he heard the organ playing at Holy Name and voices raised in song.

  He dodged into a doorway out of the rain and said to Bonati, 'What in the hell goes on here? Evening Mass starts at six. I only make it ten to.'

  'Search me, Mr Meehan.'

  They crossed the street, heads down in a flurry of rain, and paused at the notice board. Bonati peered up, reading it aloud. 'Evening Mass, six o'clock, Saturdays, five-thirty.'

  Meehan swore softly. 'A bloody good job we were early. Come on, let's get inside.'

  It was cold in the church and damp and the smell of the candles was very distinctive. There were only a dozen people in the congregation. Father da Costa was up at the altar praying and on the other side of the green baize curtain, Meehan could see Anna da Costa's head as she played the organ.

  He and Bonati sat down at one side, partially hidden by a pillar, and he put the canvas holdall between his feet. It was really quite pleasant sitting there in the half-darkness, Meehan decided, with the candles flickering and the organ playing. The four acolytes in their scarlet cassocks and white cottas reminded him nostalgically of his youth. Strangest thing of all, he found that he could remember some of the responses.

  'I confess to Almighty God, and to you, my brothers and sisters,' said Father da Costa, 'that I have sinned through my own fault.'

  He struck his breast and Meehan joined in enthusiastically, asking blessed Mary ever Virgin, all the angels and saints and the rest of the congregation to pray for him to the Lord our God.

  As they all stood for the next hymn it suddenly struck him, with something like surprise, that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

  * * *

  As the Cooper went over a humped-back bridge, Fallon, who had been sitting with his head forward on his chest, sat up with a start.

  'Are you all right?' Jenny asked him anxiously.

  'I'm fine,' he said and his voice was calm and perfectly controlled.

  He touched his right arm gingerly. The shock effects were wearing off now and it was beginning to hurt like hell. He winced and Jenny noticed at once.

  'I think I should take you straight to the Infirmary.'

  He ignored the remark and turned to look at the child who lay on the back seat, still in her drugged sleep, wrapped in the blanket in which Jenny had carried from the mill.

  'She's a nice kid,' he said.

  The road was dangerous now in the heavy rain as darkness fell and needed all her attention, yet there was something in his voice that caused her to glance warily at him.

  He lit a cigarette one-handed and leaned back against the seat. 'I'd like you to know something,' he said. 'What Donner said back there about me being bomb-happy wasn't true. Those kids in that school bus - it was an accident. They walked into an ambush we'd laid for a Saracen armoured car. It was a mistake.'

  He hammered his clenched fist against his right knee in a kind of frenzy.

  'I know,' Jenny told him. 'I understand.'

  'That's good, that's marvellous,' he said. 'Because I never have.'

  The agony in his voice was more than she could bear and she concentrated on the road, tears in her eyes.

  As the congregation moved out, Anna continued to play and Father da Costa went into the sacristy with the acolytes. He took off his cope as the boys got out of their cassocks and into their street clothes. He saw them out of the side door, bidding each one of them good night.

  Anna was still playing, something more powerful now, which meant that the last of the congregation had left. She always seemed to sense that moment. It was Bach again from the sound of it. The piece Fallon had played. She stopped abruptly. Father da Costa paused in the act of pulling off his alb and waited, but she did not start playing again. He frowned, opened the sacristy door and went into the church.

  Anna was standing at the altar rail and Jack Meehan was holding her firmly by the arm. Father da Costa took an angry step forward and Bonati moved from behind a pillar holding a Luger in his left hand.

  It stopped Father da Costa dead in his tracks and Meehan smiled. 'That's better. Now we're all going to take a little ride in the cage up to the catwalk. There's only room for two at a time so we'll have to split up. I'll stick with the girl, you go with Bonati, Father, and remember one thing. Anything you try that's the slightest bit out of turn will be reflected in the girl's treatment, so keep your hands to yourself and don't try any rough stuff.'

  'All right, Mr Meehan,' Father da Costa said. 'What do you want with me?'

  'All in good time.' Meehan pushed Anna across to the hoist, opened the cage door and followed her inside. As they started to rise he looked out at Father da Costa. 'Remember what I told you,' he said. 'So don't try anything funny.'

  Father da Costa waited, the black, killing rage in him again and he fought to control it. What on earth did the man want? What was it all about? When the hoist descended again, he rushed inside eagerly and Bonati followed him and pressed the button.

  When it jolted to a halt, Father da Costa opened the gate at once and stepped out. Meehan had switched the light on and the boards of the catwalk, wet with rain, glistened in the darkness.

  Anna was standing, one hand on the rail, complete uncertainty on her face. Father da Costa took a step towards her and Meehan produced a Browning from his pocket. 'Stay where you are!' He nodded to Bonati. 'Tie his wrists together.'

  There was little that Father da Costa could do except comply and he put his arms behind him. Bonati lashed his wrists together quickly with a piece of thin twine.

  'Now the girl,' Meehan said.

  Anna didn't say a word as Bonati repeated the performance. As he finished, her uncle moved to join her. 'Are you all right?' he asked her in a low voice.

  'I think so,' she said. 'What's going to happen to us?'

  'I'm afraid you'll have to address that question to Mr Meehan personally,' he said. 'I'm sure I don't know.'

  Meehan unzipped the holdall, slipped his hand inside and broke the detonating cap on the chemical fuse, then he zipped the bag up again and put it down casually at the side of the catwalk in the shadows.

  'All right, Father, I'll tell you what I'm going to do with you. I'm going to leave you and your niece up here on your own for fifteen minutes to meditate. When I return, I hope to find you in a more reasonable frame of mind. If not, then ...'

  'But I don't understand,' Father da Costa interrupted. 'What on earth are you hoping to accomplish?'

  At that moment, the organ in the church below broke into the opening bars of the Bach Prelude and Fugue in D major.

  The astonishment on Meehan's face was something to see. 'It's Fallon,' he whispered.

  'It can't be,' Bonati said.

  'Then who the hell am I listening to - a ghost playing?' Meehan's anger overflowed like white-hot lava. 'Go and get
him,' he raved. 'Bring the bastard up here. Tell him the girl gets it if he doesn't come.'

  Bonati hurriedly stepped into the cage, closed the gate and started down. When he was halfway there, the organ stopped playing. The cage juddered to a halt. It was suddenly very quiet. He cocked the Luger, kicked the gate open and stepped out.

  When the Cooper turned into Rockingam Street and pulled up opposite Holy Name, Fallon was leaning in the corner, eyes closed. At first Jenny thought he was unconscious, or, at the very least, asleep, but when she touched him gently he opened his eyes at once and smiled at her.

  'Where are we?'

  'Holy Name,' she said.

  He took a deep breath and straightened up. 'Good girl.' He put a hand inside his coat and produced the buff envelope and passed it across to her. 'There's nearly two thousand pounds in there. The money I received from Jack Meehan on account and hard earned. I won't need it where I'm going. Go off somewhere. Somewhere you've never even heard of. Take the kid with you and try again.'

  The envelope was slippery with blood as she examined it in the light from the instrument panel. 'Oh my God,' she said, and then she switched on the interior light and turned to look at him. 'Oh, Martin,' she said in horror. 'There's blood all over you.'

  'It doesn't matter,' he said, and he opened the car door.

  She got out on her side. 'He'll kill you,' she said desperately. 'You don't know him like I do. You don't stand a chance. Let me get the police. Let Mr Miller handle him.'

  'God save us, but I've never asked a policeman for help in my life.' A slight, ironic smile touched Fallon's mouth fleetingly. 'Too late to start now.' He patted her face gently. 'You're a nice girl, Jenny. A lovely girl. It didn't touch you, any of it. Always believe that. Now get the hell out of it and God bless you.'

  He turned and crossed the road to Holy Name. Jenny got into the Cooper and started the engine. He was going to his death, she was convinced of that, and the compulsion to save him was something that she was unable to deny.

  Suddenly resolute, she drove round the corner, stopped at the first telephone-box she came to and dialled nine-nine-nine. When they put her through to the main switchboard at police headquarters, she asked for Detective-Superintendent Miller.

  There were still lights at the windows, but it was the absence of music that Fallon found puzzling until, gazing up at the noticeboard, he made the same discovery that Jack Meehan had about the time of evening Mass on a Saturday.

  Panic moved inside him. Oh my God, he thought. I'm too late.

  The door went back against the wall with a crash that echoed throughout the silent building, but the church was empty. Only the eternal ruby light of the sanctuary lamp, the flickering candles, the Virgin smiling sadly down at him, Christ high on his cross down there by the altar.

  He ran along the centre aisle and reached the hoist. The cage was not there. They were still on top and he was conscious of a fierce joy. He pressed the button to bring the cage down, but nothing happened. He pressed it again with the same result. Which meant that the cage was standing open up there.

  He hammered his clenched fist against the wall in despair. There had to be a way to bring Meehan down. There had to be.

  And there was, of course, and it was so beautifully simple that he laughed out loud, his voice echoing up the nave as he turned and moved towards the altar rail and went up through the choir stalls.

  He sat down on the organ stool, switched on and pulled out an assortment of stops feverishly. There was blood on the keys, but that didn't matter and he moved into the opening of the Bach Prelude in D Major. The glorious music echoed between the walls as he gave it everything he had, ignoring the pain in his right hand and arm.

  'Come on, you bastard!' he shouted aloud. 'Let's be having you.'

  He stopped playing and was immediately aware of the slight clanging the cage made on its descent. He got up and went down the steps through the choir stalls, drawing the Ceska from his pocket and screwing the silencer into place with difficulty, arriving at the correct vantage point as the cage reached ground level.

  Fallon flattened himself against the wall and waited, the Ceska ready. The cage door was kicked open and Bonati stepped out, clutching the Luger. Fallon shot him through the hand and Bonati dropped the Luger with a sharp cry and turned to face him.

  'Meehan,' Fallon said. 'Is he up there?'

  Bonati was shaking like a leaf in a storm, frightened out of his wits. He tried to speak, but could only manage to nod his head vigorously.

  'All right.' Fallon smiled and Bonati saw that face again, a face to frighten the Devil. 'Go home and change your ways.'

  Bonati needed no second bidding and ran up the aisle clutching his wrist. The door banged behind him, the candles fluttered. It was quiet again. Fallon moved into the cage and pressed the button to ascend.

  On the catwalk, Meehan, Anna and Father da Costa waited, the rain falling in silver strands through the yellow light. The cage jerked to a halt, the door swung open. It was dark in there.

  Meehan raised his Browning slightly. 'Bonati?'

  Fallon drifted out of the darkness, a pale ghost. 'Hello, you bastard,' he said.

  Meehan started to take aim and Father da Costa ducked low in spite of his bound hands and shouldered him to the rail, tripping him deftly so that Meehan fell heavily. The Browning skidded along the catwalk and Fallon kicked it into space.

  He leaned against the rail for support, suddenly strangely tired, his arm really hurting now, and gestured with the Ceska.

  'All right, untie him.'

  Meehan did as he was told reluctantly and the moment he was free, Father da Costa untied Anna. He turned to Fallon, concern in his voice. 'Are you all right?'

  Fallon kept all his attention on Meehan. 'The bomb? Have you set the fuse?'

  'Get stuffed,' Meehan told him.

  'Bomb?' Father da Costa demanded.

  'Yes,' Fallon said. 'Did he have a bag with him?'

  'Over there,' Father da Costa pointed to where the canvas holdall stood in the shadows.

  'All right,' Fallon said, 'You'd better get Anna out of here fast and I mean out. If that thing goes off it will bring the whole church down like a house of cards.'

  Father da Costa didn't even hesitate. He grabbed Anna by the arm and guided her towards the hoist, but she pulled free and turned towards Fallon. 'Martin!' she cried and caught at his trenchcoat. 'We can't go without you.'

  'The cage only takes two at a time,' he said. 'Be sensible.'

  There was blood on her hand from his sleeve and she held it close to her face as if trying to see it. 'Oh my God,' she whispered.

  Father da Costa put an arm around her shoulders and said to Fallon, 'You're hurt.'

  'You're running out of time,' Fallon said patiently.

  Father da Costa pushed Anna inside the cage and followed her in. As he pressed the button to descend he called through the bars, 'I'll be back, Martin, Wait for me.'

  His voice was swallowed up by darkness and Fallon turned to Meehan and smiled, 'You and me, Jack at the final end of things. Isn't that something? We can go to hell together.'

  'You're mad,' Meehan said. 'I'm not waiting here to die. I'm going to get rid of this thing.'

  He moved towards the holdall and Fallon raised the Ceska threateningly. 'I've had experience, remember? At this stage it'll go up at the slightest touch.' He chuckled. 'I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll leave it with God. If the cage gets back in time, we leave. If not...'

  'You raving bloody lunatic.' Meehan was shouting now.

  Fallon said calmly, 'By the way, I've just remembered I've got something for you.' He produced a crumpled white card with a black border and held it out.

  Meehan said, 'What in hell is that supposed to be?'

  'A Rest-in-Peace card, isn't that what you call them? It's for Billy. Plot number five hundred and eighty-two at Pine Trees.'

  Meehan seemed stunned. 'You're lying.'

  Fallon shook his head. 'I k
illed him last night because he tried to rape Anna da Costa. I took him up to the crematorium and put him through the whole process, just like you showed me. Last I saw of your brother, he was five pounds of grey ash scattered across damp grass.'

  Meehan seemed to break into a thousand pieces. 'Billy!' he screamed and went for Fallon, head down.

  Fallon pulled the trigger of the Ceska. There was a dull click and then Meehan was on him, smashing him back against the guard rail. It splintered, sagged, then gave way and Fallon went over the edge into space. He hit the canvas tarpaulin stretched over the hole in the roof and went straight through.

  Meehan turned and reached for the holdall. As he picked it up and turned to throw it out into the darkness, it exploded.

  As Father da Costa and Anna went out of the door into the street, two police cars arrived at speed. Miller scrambled out of the first one and hurried towards them. As he put a foot on the first step leading up to the porch, the bomb exploded.

  The effect was extraordinary, for the whole church started to fall in, almost in slow motion, first the tower, the steel scaffolding crumpling around it, and then the roof.

  Miller grabbed Anna's other arm and he and Father da Costa ran her down into the safety of the street between them. As they reached the cars, a scaffolding pole rebounded from the wall of the warehouse above their heads and everyone ducked.

  Father da Costa was first on his feet and stood, fists clenched, gazing up at the church. As the dust cleared, he saw that most of the walls and the rear entrance porch were still standing.

  A young constable came forward from one of the police cars holding a spot lamp and Father da Costa simply took it from him and turned to Miller. 'I'm going back in.'

  He started forward and Miller grabbed him by the arm. 'You must be crazy.'

  'Fallon was in there,' Father da Costa said. 'He saved us, don't you understand? He might still be alive. I must know.'