Well, there you are, then, Owen said, and a moment later, they reached the restaurant.
They sat in a corner booth, had a bottle of cheap red wine, and shared some lasagna and crunchy bread that was warm from the oven.
Over cognac he said, Kelly s IRA activity must have been a problem for you, with your son being an officer in the British Army. But when you had me over, it was heartwarming to discover the great affection the people in Kilmartin have for you.
You mean with their being IRA to the core and me a Protestant? All at once, she felt like unburdening herself.
I knew my son served in the SAS and I kept quiet about it. Kelly found out and lied for me, so that the villagers have never known of my guilt. They never knew that my wild son s madness resulted in his Al Qaeda connection, nor that he took his own life. She put a hand on his. So there you are lies, deceit, and enough wickedness to choke on.
None of this was new to him, but hearing it from her own mouth moved him deeply. He had been so sure that he had served merely as a substitute for the son she had lost so tragically, but realized now that the truth was rather different.
He paid the bill, and they walked up Curzon Street in silence, arm in arm. When they reached the house, she rummaged in her purse to find her key and he took it from her.
Let me, he said, and opened the door.
She turned to face him, trying to smile but in obvious distress.
So sorry, Owen, to unload all that garbage and guilt on you like that. I get so damn lonely. She was close to tears.
Just look at me, chairman of Talbot International, the woman who s got everything and nothing.
What nonsense. You ve got me, haven t you? He kissed her lightly on the mouth. That s better, isn t it?
As if not quite believing what he had done, she glanced up at him in astonishment and then smiled. Yes, it is, actually. Would you by any chance fancy a coffee before you go?
I thought you d never ask, he said, then stepped inside and closed the door.
On leaving Owen Rashid s apartment, Henri Legrande and Jack Kelly had returned to the antiques shop, where the Frenchman started to work his way through the file Rashid had given him. Leafing through it, he was immediately aware of the most recent addition, and he read it quickly.
Look what we have here, he said to Kelly.
Captain Sara Gideon just joined Ferguson s staff from the Intelligence Corps.
A nice-looking woman, Kelly said, examining Sara s photograph.
There s a damn sight more to her than good looks, Henri told him. Her military record is remarkable, and I know her grandfather by reputation, Rabbi Nathan Gideon. Very popular with the interfaith movement. Preaches all over the place, even in Christian churches. He s good I ve heard him.
So where would he fit in?
When she s not serving abroad, she lives with him. Since she was a passenger on that Gulfstream of Ferguson s that just got in from New York, I think we can assume she s with him now.
Do you want to take a look?
Why not? I ll need to check where all Ferguson s people live, but she ll do for a start. We ll take my car.
Twenty minutes later, he was behind the wheel of his small and battered Citro n van, Kelly beside him, observing Highfield Court, when the Alfa Romeo Spider turned into the drive.
Now, there s a nice car, Kelly said, and then Holley got out and approached the front door. It s Daniel Holley. I know the bastard well. Sean Dillon s friend. Top Provos in their day, but damn traitors now.
The door opened and Sara Gideon appeared, Sadie behind her. She looked very striking, the red hair contrasting vividly with a bomber jacket, shirt, and loose leggings in black raw silk.
Sadie said, Don t let it go to your head, but you look fantastic.
Well, he s not looking too bad himself, is he? Sara nodded to Daniel, standing by the Alfa in a leather flying jacket and jeans.
For an older guy, Sadie told her.
Don t be boring. Sara kissed her on the cheek. Go and check us out on your tarot cards or something. She went down the steps and said to Holley,
You re looking very sharp. Love the jacket.
I told you I was a pilot. He handed her into the Alfa and slid behind the wheel. For someone who said not too dressy, you look amazing.
Thank you, Daniel, but the other thing I stipulated was somewhere interesting, so what s it to be?
You ve got to meet Harry and Billy Salter sometime, so I thought we d combine business with pleasure and visit the Dark Man down on Cable Wharf at Wapping. That s Harry s pub.
Well, that sounds fun, she said as they drove away.
The Citro n went after them, and Kelly said, What are we going to do?
Who knows? Henri told him. We ll just hang in there and see where they go.
SIX
It was dark below by the Thames as the Alfa moved down the hill and pulled up in front of the pub, which was ablaze with lights.
Well, here we are, the Dark Man, the first piece of property Harry Salter ever owned, the beginnings of his empire.
Sara smiled. Oh, he has one of those, does he?
Ever since he discovered there was more money to be made from business than crime. He was known in the London underworld as a right villain. He only did prison time once in his youth, and that was enough. These days he s behind some of the biggest developments on the river.
And his connection with Ferguson? What s all that about?
A bit like the rest of us, pulling together in these uncertain times to keep the ship afloat. London gangsters have their uses.
Just like reformed IRA gunmen. She got out and limped quite heavily to the edge of the jetty, looking across at a passing riverboat, music echoing over the water. I love all this, even the smell of it.
He moved to her side. Are you okay?
She glanced at him. You re worried about my leg, aren t you? I m fine, really I am. So I get a bit cramped in a car and I need to loosen up a touch when I m on my feet.
He felt suddenly awkward. I was just concerned.
I know, but it is what I am now. It won t go away.
So I won t mention it again. He took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, put one in his mouth. Do you use these?
Good heavens, no, and neither should you.
He d taken out his lighter and paused. She took it from him, tossed it into the water, and held out her hand, palm up, without a word. He hesitated, then passed the cigarette pack across. It followed the lighter into the Thames.
Do you always get your own way? he asked.
When I m in the right, I do. I insist on it. She took his arm and walked him a little way along the jetty. What s the boat tied up there at the end?
An old riverboat, the Linda Jones, Harry s pride and joy. He owns bigger boats that do the tourist runs and so on. He knows the Thames better than anyone a river rat since childhood.
Well, let s go and meet him, then, she said, and they turned and walked toward the entrance of the pub.
Henri Legrande had kept the Citro n well back and he and Kelly sat there, waiting for Holley and Sara to go inside. When they had gone, he turned on the Citro n s interior light and leafed through the file, paying particular attention to the photos.
So here we are, Harry and Billy Salter, but perhaps there could be others in there with them, he said, and he checked through all the photos again.
So what do you want to do? Kelly asked. If Holley sees me, we re done for. He knows me well.
But not me. Henri smiled and closed the file.
A drink at the bar is called for. You keep your head down. I won t be long.
He turned off the interior light and walked to the entrance.