“Why is it, that humans are the only animals on this planet who devote themselves to making one another unhappy?” Chapman said dryly.
“Oh I wouldn’t say that she was unhappy, old son. No, I’d say that she’d simply wisened up to the fact that he wasn’t going to leave his wife, after all.” LJ replied, and then added with a glint in his eye. “But, seeing her tip that wine into his lap, reminds me of something a very good friend of mine once told me. And that was, we know very little about ‘conscience’ except that it’s soluble in alcohol. Which means, that he should be able to go back to his wife, and conveniently not remember any of what took place here this evening.” LJ laughed at his own joke. “Anyway, let’s get back to the matter at hand shall we.”
“Well, it seems reasonably straightforward to me,” Dillon said.
“What does?” LJ asked.
“Diving this Devil’s Hole. So what if the waters are rough, and the chance of being mashed like a potato on the rocks is high. If Nathan Cunningham did it, then I’m sure Rob and I can do it.” Dillon said confidently.
“We may need something to blow open that entrance.” Chapman said.
“We’ve brought along Semtex and underwater chemical detonators.” Vince said matter of factly.
“I’m impressed.” Chapman commented.
“So, all that’s left is when do we dive?” LJ said.
“I’d say we go first thing in the morning, but it’s up to Rob.” Dillon replied.
Chapman nodded at Dillon, “I agree, but what do you think Malakoff will do?”
“He’ll continue to have his goons watch us tonight, and then be right on our tail as we hit the water in the morning.”
“I’d say you were spot on. So what we need then, is a little diversion to keep them occupied.”
“At least they can’t track us anymore, since we’ve cleared my boat of the bugs. I suppose we could pair off, and all go in different directions. But I’ll put money on it that the big German would stick like glue to Rob and I.” Dillon said.
“But, what if the German, and his friend were not at liberty to follow?” Annabelle said.
“Sounds interesting, Annabelle. What are you suggesting?” Dillon asked.
“Have them both picked up and arrested. That way, if they’re in a police cell in St. Helier, they won’t be able to follow anyone, will they?”
“What an outstanding idea, my dear.” LJ commented.
“Yes it is, but what are you going to say to the police that will get them arrested?” Chapman asked.
“Oh, I’m sure that we can come up with something plausible, old son.” LJ said, as he caught the attention of one of the waitresses. “Now then, I don’t know about you lot, but I’m starving hungry and in need of food.”
Outside, a warm light breeze was blowing in from the south-west. With only a smattering of cloud in an otherwise clear night sky — moonlight kissed the ocean, the black heaving water scarred and slashed with silver.
Peering through a powerful night sight, Kurt watched Dillon and the others having a good time inside the café. From his vantage point on the seawall he could see everything that was going on.
“What are they doing now?” Pierre demanded. “They’re still eating.”
“But it’s gone midnight?”
“So what?” The big German turned and looked at the Frenchman. “What is it, past your bedtime, Frenchy?”
“No, but it’s so boring, all this waiting. And by the way, if you talk to me like that again, I’ll cut your throat open.”
Kurt spat onto the concrete, before saying. “Shut up, Frenchman. We’ll stay here as long as we have to.”
Inside, Annabelle had let Kate Jackson and the staff go home after the last party of diners had left. They’d finished eating, were at the coffee stage when LJ’s mobile phone rang.
“Levenson-Jones.” He listened briefly, before saying, “Just one moment.” Got up from the table and walked outside.
“What’s all that about?” Annabelle asked. “Well, from the look on his face, it’s not good news, whatever it is.” Dillon replied, as LJ came back inside and sat down. He looked old and weary, all of a sudden the many years of smoking and generally stressful living seemed to have caught up with him.
“That was Tatiana,” LJ explained to Chapman that Tatiana was the Partners’ personal assistant, and then went on to explain why she’d called him at such a late hour.
“Guy Roberts is dead.”
“Dead?” Vince said incredulously.
“Yes, it happened earlier this evening as he left our building.”
“Were the police called?” Dillon said.
“By all accounts, by one of the private security officers on duty. He was watching the monitors that are linked to all of the surveillance cameras around the area, and saw it happen on one of the screens. He immediately called the local force, which not only sent a local car to the scene, but also a team from the firearms unit.”
“Looks like a contract then?” Dillon stated.
“Almost definitely, old son. According to Tatiana, the recording shows a smartly dressed woman with dark hair walking up the street towards Roberts. And then as they pass each other, she turns and shoots him with a silenced pistol. Tatiana, tells me that afterwards she had the cold blooded audacity to look down at the body, and then up at the camera. As if taunting whoever it was watching her.”
“In that case, whoever it was, almost certainly was wearing a disguise.” Vince cut in.
“The question is why was Guy Roberts whacked by a professional killer,” Dillon said. “It does seem just a little too coincidental, that he’s now lying dead in a London gutter, and shortly after you gave him the go ahead to look into Lord Asquith’s financial affairs.”
When LJ spoke, it was with a steely coldness. “That, Mr Dillon, had not escaped me. And believe me. when the time is right, justice will be done.” He adjusted his tie, and then stood up. “Well, I think that I’m going to turn in as we’ve got an early start in the morning. Vince could you please drive me back up to the Fisherman’s Lodge, and Mr Chapman back to his place, if he’d like a lift?”
“Well it’ll beat walking on a very full stomach, at this time of the night.” Chapman said patting the palm of his hand on his stomach.
“Jake, I think it’s probably a good idea for you to stay with Annabelle tonight.”
“I agree, if that’s okay with Annabelle?” Dillon said, and Annabelle nodded her agreement.
“Good, well in that case, we’ll bid you a good night my dear, and see you in the morning.” The three men left in the Range Rover, leaving Annabelle and Dillon to walk the short distance up the hill to her house.
Before locking up, Dillon pulled the automatic from it’s holster and checked that it had a full clip.
“Is that thing real?” Annabelle asked wide eyed.
“Glock 10 automatic. And yes it’s real.” Dillon said matter of factly, as he placed it back in the holster.
“Oh,” Annabelle put the key in the main door. “Now, I think that’s everything locked up,” She punched in the numbers on the security keypad. “There, the alarm’s on, so let’s go.” And they left, slamming the door behind them. Kurt watched as Dillon and Annabelle came down the steps of the café.
“Look, Frenchman. Our waiting is over, Dillon and the girl are leaving.” Kurt said, passing Pierre the night scope.
“What do we do now?”
“We’ll give them a head start, and then follow. Dillon’s our problem. Let’s hope that he’s just walking her home.”