Edge of Danger

Blake Johnson said, 'An angry man, General.'

'Yes, and with every right to be. Let's talk things over, Blake, and see if we can come up with the right way to handle this.'

Back in Stable Mews, Dillon answered the door and found the older of the two men who had taken Ali Salim's body away. He was carrying a light black plastic urn.

'Ah, Mr Dillon. I presumed you'd want them.'

'What is it?'

'Ali Salim's ashes.'

Dillon took the urn. 'Excellent. I'll see they reach the right destination.'

He put the ashes on the hall stand, then phoned Ferguson. 'It's me. When are we seeing Rashid?'

'I'm not sure.'

'Well, I am. I told you: if you don't make a move, I'll face him myself.'

'There's no need for that. I'll phone him and arrange a meeting.'

'Do that.' Dillon put the phone down.

To his surprise, the doorbell sounded again, and when he opened it, he found Rabbi Bernstein standing there.

'May I come in, Sean?'

'Of course.'

The old man followed Dillon into the living room. Dillon turned, suddenly anxious. 'She's all right, isn't she?'

'So it would appear. Sean, I don't know all the details, but I know what she'd want me to tell you. She wouldn't want revenge.'

'Well, I do. I'm sorry, Rabbi, but I'm feeling very Old Testament at the moment. An eye for an eye.'

'You love my granddaughter?'

'Not in the way you mean. God knows, she doesn't love me. In fact, she hates what I stand for, but that doesn't matter here. I think a great deal of her, and I don't intend to let the man responsible for her present situation get away with it.'

'Even if she doesn't want that?' -'Yes. So, Rabbi, unless you want to stay for a cup of tea, you'd better go.'

'God help you, Sean.'

The old man went to the door. Dillon opened it for him. 'Sorry, Rabbi.'

Bernstein went out. Dillon closed the door, hesitated, then went back into the living room.

The phone rang. When he answered it, Ferguson said, 'Eleven o'clock tomorrow at my place. I'll expect you.'

'I'll be there,' Sean Dillon said, and put the phone down.

The following morning he checked at the hospital and found that she was poorly, but stable. That she was getting the finest treatment in London was a given – Ferguson wouldn't accept less – so there was nothing Dillon could do.

He dressed in dark leathers, a black bomber jacket and white scarf, and took the black plastic urn with him when he left and walked round to Ferguson's flat in Cavendish Place. Kim let him in and Dillon found Ferguson having tea and toast by the fire.

'I didn't have time for breakfast. Blake's on the phone to the President in my study. He'll be with us shortly. Help yourself to a drink. I know you like to start early.'

Dillon did just that, had a Bushmills with a little water. 'Any news from County Down?'

'Oh, Bell's there, all right, and his three cronies, Tommy Brosnan, Jack O'Hara and Pat Costello. Have I got it right?'

'Absolutely.'

Blake came in. 'The President sends his best.

He's very concerned about Hannah. Anything she needs, any kind of special treatment, you only have to ask.'

The front doorbell rang. Kim appeared and looked inquiringly at Ferguson, who nodded and the Gurkha opened the front door. Paul and Kate Rashid were shown in.

She wore a black suit, he was in a leather bomber jacket himself, pullover and slacks. They both seemed cheerful.

'A drink, sir?' Ferguson asked. 'Coffee, tea -something heavier?'

'I'll have what Dillon's drinking,' said Kate.

'Bushmills whiskey, girl, at eleven-fifteen in the morning? You have to be raised to it.'

'Well, I'll have to try, won't I?'

'Suit yourself.' Dillon poured her the whiskey and added a little water. 'Oldest whiskey in the world, they say. Invented by monks in Ireland.'

She took a sip. 'No Superintendent Bernstein this morning?'

'Yes, well, she's lucky to be here at all. She's in the hospital in intensive care. When we got back to my place last night, there was a guy named Ali Salim waiting. I've checked him out. A Party of God fanatic'

There was silence. Paul Rashid said, 'Is the Superintendent all right?'

'Oh, sure,' Dillon told him. 'She's got a damaged stomach, bladder, spleen, a bullet in the left lung, a chipped spine. Just the kind of thing you expect when some religious fanatic shoots a woman three times.'

Kate Rashid said carefully, 'And this Ali Salim? Where is he?'

'On the table over there.' Dillon nodded to the black plastic urn. 'I brought his ashes for you. Six pounds. That's all that's left.' He poured another Bushmills. 'Oh, didn't I tell you? I shot the bastard after he shot Bernstein.'

She sipped a little of her whiskey, then took a cigarette case from her purse and extracted one. Dillon gave her a light. 'There you go.'

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'About Superintendent Bernstein.'

'Well, you would be, wouldn't you? After all, it wasn't supposed to be her, it was supposed to be me.'

'Really?'

Paul Rashid cut in. 'Why are we here, General Ferguson?'

'Because I warned you before, Rashid, and now I'm telling you outright: If it's war you want, then it's war you'll get. I don't take kindly to my people getting shot. We're going to be over you so closely that you won't have room to breathe, let alone pursue your "alternative target".'

'Really? And who would that be?' Paul Rashid said.

'I can't help but notice that the Russian Premier is in town next month.'

'Is that so?' Paul Rashid told him. 'How interesting.'

'Also too damned obvious,' Dillon said, and lit another cigarette. 'No, he's got something else on the agenda.'

'You'll have to wait and see, won't you?' Paul Rashid got up. 'Come on, Kate.'

It was Blake who said, 'For God's sake, why, sir? Your mother's death was a tragedy, but why take it so far?'

'You're a decent man, Mr Johnson, and yet you still don't see it. The business interests in your country think they can walk in anywhere they like in the world, take over, corrupt, trample on people's rights. The Russians are exactly the same. Well, you won't get away with it in Rashid territory, in Hazar or the Empty Quarter. I have the financial resources to back me up and I have my people. Chew on that, my friend. One thing I'll promise, I'll surprise you.' He turned to his sister.

Dillon took them to the door and opened it. 'Try and make him see sense, Kate.'

'My brother always makes perfect sense, Dillon,' she told him.

'Then we'll all end up going down the same dark road to hell.'

'An interesting thought,' Paul Rashid observed, and led the way out.

The door closed, and Ferguson said, 'So, we know where we are.'

'Only with him,' Blake said. 'But we don't know the first damn thing about what he intends to do.'

'The ball's in your court,' Dillon said to Ferguson.

Ferguson nodded. 'Let's try the simple approach. We won't get very far trying to listen in to Rashid's phone calls, and coded mobiles make things even more difficult these days, but we'll tap them anyway. We can monitor his travel movements. His planes need a slot, passengers have to be declared beforehand. Special Branch can check them out. Meanwhile, we'll plough through all his friends, all his associates. Maybe we'll get lucky.'

'Sooner rather than later,' Blake said. 'There's an energy to Rashid that I find disturbing.'

'What will you do?' Dillon asked.

'I'm going home. There's a lot I have to talk about with the President. If there's anything you need me for, though, anything at all, just let me know and I'll be back.'

In the car, Paul Rashid pushed the glass divider closed and said to Kate, 'They'll be on our case in every possible way.'

T know. It'll be next to impossible to get to the Premier now.'

'He was never my alternative, Kate.'

She was amazed. 'But Paul, I assumed it must be.'

'Which is what I wanted everyone to think, and they did, except for Dillon, of course.'