âCal? Are you there?'
Brady had been sitting beside the long still form on the floor of the wagon for something over an hour before he heard a change in the rhythm of Donovan's breathing that suggested he was on his way back from the abyss. But there was no reply and his torch revealed no movement in the bloodless face. His eyes were imperfectly shut, like carelessly drawn blinds, so that a white line showed under each. Brady let the light rest on Donovan's face and after a moment, slowly, his eyes closed.
Brady sighed. âAch well, sleep while you may. It's going to be a long day.'
He'd been worried he'd hit Donovan too hard. It's not easy to judge: too light a tap only makes your adversary angry, too keen a swipe and you have a corpse on your hands. Nor had he had much time to work it out. He'd been afraid that Kelso would come raging round the wagon like a wild bull and kill the detective before he could weigh the consequences. He thought he'd be safer out cold. Not many people have the stomach to murder an unconscious man.
When Kelso got there to find him already on the ground he goggled. âWhat happened?'
âHe tried to run,' Brady said. âI stopped him.'
âIs he dead?'
âShouldn't be.'
Kelso bent to look closer. âHellfire,' he exclaimed, startled, âit's that copper!' Like Brady he'd seen that there was someone under the wagon when the torch fell, but there'd been neither time nor light enough to see who. âGod Almighty, what do we do now?'
âOne thing we don't do,' Brady suggested, âis panic. There may be no need. If he was on official business he wouldn't have been alone â the place'd be crawling by now. He must have seen us leave the caravan and followed on spec.'
âHow much do you suppose he saw? What did he hear?'
âMost of it, I guess. I'll ask him when he wakes up.'
âHow did he get past Danny?'
âHow should I know? He lives here, he knows his way round. We were unlucky, that's all.'
âUnlucky?'
Kelso's voice soared for a moment before he remembered he should be whispering. âBailie, he's a copper. We're not going to buy him off and we're not going to scare him off. If he leaves here we all go down.'
âSo what do you want to do â kill him?' Brady's manner was casual, untroubled.
âI think we have to.' Then he looked at the still face, moon-white against the dark clothing, and balked. âI don't know. Maybe Scoutari'd take care of it.'
Brady was scathing. âThe Malteaser.' The fact that earlier Scoutaris came from Malta did not in fact make him a Malteaser but Kelso knew who he meant. âOh, he'd do it all right. He'd enjoy doing it. But you'd pay through the nose, and if he doesn't make it watertight we'll all end up talking to policemen. You kill a cop and they pull out all the stops, you know? They've already shown an interest in us; he lives within spitting distance of where we're camped; they're not stupid, they've got to suspect us.'
âI'm damned if I'll drop everything and run!'
âIf we run they'll know they're right. We wouldn't reach Dover. I don't want to do life either, OK?'
âThen what?' Kelso was prodding the inert body with his foot. Brady thought that if Donovan stirred he'd probably kick him unconscious again.
âI'll see to it,' he said. âCarefully, and at the right time, and it'll look like an accident. To get past Danny he must have crossed that lock. Tricky job, that. A man could fall, knock himself out, drown in two feet of water.'
Kelso nodded energetically, obviously relieved. He reached for Donovan's feet. âI'll give you a hand.'
âNot
now,'
exclaimed Brady. âLook, so far we're looking at â what? â ten years, out in seven. He dies and you can double that. I'll do it when I'm sure we can get away with it.'
âWe could be here a fortnight. They'll start looking for him tomorrow.'
âThey won't know he's missing,' said Brady. He gave an impish smile. âI'll call in sick for him. We're from the same part of the world, nobody'll even wonder if it's him. I'll say that hand of his
â mine â is playing me up and I've gone down the hospital. Before anybody thinks to check he'll have turned up in the bottom of the lock.'
âWith us still here?'
âWhy not? We've no reason to run. Accidental death: the guy took one chance too many. His mates must know he does things like that, they won't suspect a thing. They'll probably wonder how he got away with it till now.
âAll the same,' he went on thoughtfully, âit might be as well to finish our business before the body turns up. There's bound to be some activity down here before they rule out foul play. Call Scoutari and bring the deal forward to tomorrow night. As soon as it's done Donovan has his accident. Then the cops can poke around as much as they like: we can sit on our hands till we leave town.'
âWhat if they search the gear?'
âWhy should they? And even if they do they won't find what Customs missed. Be cool, there's no problem.'
âWhat do we do with him till then?'
Brady glanced at the wagon. âI'll keep him here. Nothing'll happen tomorrow, and if the cops come to the camp after he's found they won't ask about tonight. Sure, weren't they talking to him after this?'
Kelso regarded him with a new respect. âHow did you get so good at this?'
Brady laughed out loud. âThe same way the hare gets good at running: dodging the hounds in the bloody heather. I played this game in Ireland when even the traffic cops carried guns. By those rules, either you get good or you end up in Milltown Cemetery.'
âTalking of guns.' Kelso held out his hand and Brady passed him their weapon. âDon't want him getting his hands on it.'
âNo chance,' said Brady.
Kelso helped him put Donovan in the wagon, then he collected the Breton and left. Brady settled himself on the floor to wait. Donovan was still unconscious but that didn't stop Brady holding a quiet one-sided conversation.
âYou haven't changed a bit, have you, Cal? You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? You couldn't just wait a few days and see what was going to happen.'
He didn't expect a reply and there was none. To all practical purposes alone, Liam Brady sat in the dark in a damp wagon smelling of rot and old grain, with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms clasped round them, and thought as if his life depended on it.
By midnight he knew what to do. He had to make some calls. Donovan's mobile meant he didn't have to risk being seen. It's an ill wind, he thought grimly.
Around midnight, too, Donovan began to surface. He'd been drifting for some time, his senses washing in and out like a slack tide. When the ache in his head was insistent enough to reach him through the fog his hands moved, loose and uncoordinated, towards the source of his discomfort. His breathing came quicker, turning to a groan.
Brady bent over him. âCal? Can you hear me?'
Donovan's head rolled at the sound, starting a surge of pain that made him whine. âWhaâ? Whoâ?' His voice was a frail ghost. He'd been out too long to pick up where they'd left off when Brady hit him.
âListen, Cal, you and me's got to talk. I know you're not feeling great but try to concentrate, this is important. It's a bad situation but maybe not as bad as you're thinking. I had to hit you, for both our sakes. Now I have to keep you here. Make it easy, hey? I don't want to hurt you any more. I can get you out of this if you'll trust me.'
There was no response. Brady peered at Donovan's face and couldn't tell if he was listening or if his senses had slid away again. âI'm trying to save your neck here, Donovan,' he said, exasperated, âthe least you could do is stay awake.'
He waited a moment then tried again. âCal, listen to me. You don't know what's going on here. Will you just do as I ask? â go along with me while I get it sorted? Twenty hours is all I need. Nobody's going to hurt you. Kelso's happy to leave you to me. Twenty hours, then I'll tell you what it was all about and you'll be out of here.
âWhat do you say? You won't be too comfortable â I'll have to tie you up if anyone comes; if Kelso or the Malteaser thought I'd let you go we'd both be dead men. But when it's over you'll understand. You'll see why it was worth it. What do you say? Will you help me?'
Donovan's battered brain was digesting it, mulling it over, thinking at once too well and not well enough. When he had the answer he slurred, âI know who you are.'
Brady thought he was wandering again. âOf course you do. We grew up in the same town.' He grinned at a sudden memory. âYou wrote “Paisley For Pope” on my car.'
âNot that. I know what you're doing here.'
And Brady saw in his eyes that he did, and his heart sank. In
trying to win Donovan's confidence he'd said too much. Now the risk was doubled â more than doubled. Before, the only man who knew had every reason to keep the secret. Now he shared it with someone whose feelings towards him were ambivalent and whose head wouldn't be his own for a couple of days.
Brady chewed the inside of his cheek. Perhaps neither Kelso nor Scoutari would come back here. Perhaps, even if they did, Donovan would told his tongue. But he wouldn't bet his life on it. If they thought of it one or the other would want to know how close the police were â if Donovan really had stumbled on them by chance or if there was a net closing in. If they were determined to know, he'd tell them. Anyone would.
That gave Brady a dilemma. He could make sure Donovan wouldn't answer questions, however persuasively put. But if he hit him again he could hurt him badly. He could tell anyone who asked that he'd already conducted an interrogation and there was nothing to worry about; but men whose liberty was at stake might not take his word for that.
He could hope to wrap things up before Donovan became an issue. But the earliest the deal could now be done was this evening, and that left more than enough time for something to go wrong. Then Brady could wave goodbye to seven months' hard, difficult, dangerous work. That was the best that could happen.
In fact his choices were fewer and simpler than that. He could call the thing off now, to protect Donovan and himself, or carry on with all the risks that entailed. Twenty hours. A blink of the eye on the cosmic scale. A whole lifetime to certain exotic butterflies.
He eyed the author of his problem coldly a moment longer. Then he said with conviction, âNo, you don't. If you did someone'd get it out of you with a cigar-lighter. So you know nothing. Understand? Nothing about me beyond the fact that I used to be in the IRA. Forget the rest, hold on to that. That's our passport out of this. If they believe I'm prepared to kill you we'll be all right.'
âWe'd be all right if we left now.'
Brady bared his teeth in a grin of no humour whatever. âYou've blown my cover, boy. Thanks to you I have to wind this up three months ahead of plan. I'm not going in empty-handed.'
âThese people are going to want me dead,' said Donovan. âYou want to risk my life for the sake of your track record?'
This time the grin was genuine if fierce. âWhy not? I'm risking mine.'
Brady still had the mobile phone. Donovan held out his hand. âLet me call my chief. If this is above board he'll go along with it, and I will too.'
âAway on! Your chief will hear from my chief when this is over, not before. I'm only discussing it with you because you haven't the wit to keep your suspicions to yourself.'
Donovan thought he could get the mobile and settle it that way. He lunged for it. But in his current state he had neither the speed nor strength of the older man and Brady snatched it easily out of his reach.
âLeave it alone, will you!' Brady glared at him, tempted to spare himself trouble by hitting Donovan again and be damned to the consequences. But his conscience pricked and instead he dropped the mobile on the floor behind him and stamped on it. âThere. Now will you give me peace?'
Donovan groaned. âThat's the second one of those things I've lost this year. You should see the frigging paperwork.'
Brady didn't know whether to laugh or cry. âCo-operate with me and I'll buy you a new one. All right?'
Donovan thought about it. He licked his lips. âIf this operation matters that much, maybe you reckon it's worth keeping going. How do I know you won't do what they ask and kill me?'
âYou'll know,' Brady smiled. âWhen I point a gun at you and pull the trigger, you'll know then. If I miss, I'm on your side.'