Edge of Danger

'You could say that, sir, but I'd appreciate it if you'd promise not to tell him.'

'Of course, my dear. Now, as I'm feeling perfectly wretched, I think I'll go home,'

Paul and Kate Rashid went into the Dauncey Arms at lunchtime. Betty Moody was behind the bar and all the usual locals were there. Everyone stood up.

Rashid said, 'No, my friends, sit down. Get a drink for everyone, Betty, but I'm hungry as a hunter. Whatever you've got.'

There were tears in her eyes. She reached and touched his face. 'Oh, Paul,' and then Kate was crying, too, and Betty took her hand and lifted the bar flap. 'You stop snivelling, girl. I've told you that since you first learned to listen. Come and do some useful work in the kitchen.'

Later, they ate, she opened a bottle of champagne for them and they sat by the fire.

'Tomorrow,' she said hesitantly. 'The funerals. You haven't said much.'

'Service at the church is eleven thirty. We're scaling it down this time, Betty. No general invitation like the last time. The villagers are welcome, though. You could do us a buffet here at the pub. We don't want a fuss. I don't even want staff at the house after the funeral.'

'Whatever you want, Paul, leave it with me.' She moved away. Kate said, 'Will he come?' 'Oh, yes, he'll come,' her brother said. 'I've never been more certain of anything in my life.'

Dillon called in on Harry at the Rosedene and found him propped up in bed, Dora hovering, the epitome of the barmaid turned nurse.

'Watch it,' Dillon told her. 'If you keep doing such a good job, the old bugger might decide to marry you.'

Her eyes gleamed. Harry said, 'Don't give her ideas above her station!' He slapped Dora's bottom. 'Go and find me a bottle of Scotch, there's a good girl.'

She went out. Dillon said, 'You think you've got her, but she's got you by your bits and pieces, Harry. Mind you, you're a lucky sod. She's actually a damn nice woman and she'd kill for you.'

'You don't need to tell me.' 'Then treat her right.'

Salter looked at him. 'Why do I get the impression you're not exactly on top of the world?'

'Ah, well, we all have our ups and downs. I've seen Hannah. You know how it is. She loves me and hates me and worries about me.'

'You're going to do something stupid,' Harry said. 'Christ, Dillon, you really are going down to Dauncey to that double funeral tomorrow.'

'It's a challenge, Harry. He wants to face me. I killed his two brothers. He's entitled.'

'You know what, my old son, that sounds like a death wish to me. Are you thinking of pulling Billy in? There isn't anybody else.'

'No. I'm going to drop in at the Dark Man and have a bite to eat, but Billy's done enough. You know, Harry, he calls himself my younger brother, and in a way that's what he's become. I'm not putting him in harm's way again. I won't ask him to go to Dauncey tomorrow. For all I know, the Earl could set the dogs on us.'

'So you're going to go down there wearing a black suit and stand in the congregation at the Dauncey parish church?' 'It has to be done, Harry.'

'Well, that's nice, isn't it? Just when I was willing to accept you as Billy's older brother, you're going to put your head on the chopping block.'

Dillon got up. 'Harry, you're a diamond, and so is Billy, but there comes a time…'

'Yes, I know. When a man's got to do what a man's got to do. John Wayne, rest in peace.' Dora came in with a bottle of Scotch. Harry said, 'Go on, clear off, Dillon, you're making me angry.'

Dillon went. Harry sat there, absentmindedly fondling Dora's rear, then reached for the bedside phone and rang his nephew's mobile. Billy was at the Cable Wharf office.

'Listen, Dillon's just left me. He said he was going to call in and have a bite of lunch with you. As you know, Rashid's burying his brothers at Dauncey church tomorrow, and Dillon's determined to go and face up to him. Like some kind of Gunfight at the OK Corral. What's more, he's going to go on his own.'

Billy said, 'No way. If he goes, I go with him. I know you might not approve.'

'Actually, Billy, I'm proud of you, only don't tell him. Just say he's stupid. We'll let him go, then catch up later.'

'You say we?'

'Billy, even with Dora, I can't be here for ever. At least I can give you moral support. We'll follow Dillon down.'

At the Dark Man, trade was busy, with plenty of cars parked on Cable Wharf. It was raining on the river again, that season of the year. Dillon found an old umbrella in the Mini Cooper's boot, put it up, lit a cigarette and walked for a while.

He was strangely melancholy, a feeling that he was somehow at the end of things. He didn't hate Paul Rashid, and Kate, as most men would have to admit, he admired tremendously. He had killed many times over the years. It was his nature. He'd excused himself by claiming the death of his father, caught in the middle of a firefight in a Belfast Street between IRA members and British paratroopers.

But what if it really was his nature, his father's death only an excuse? What did that say about him? He could argue that, in his way, he'd been a soldier for years, but could he condemn Rashid and not condemn himself? The only difference between them, the thing that really was unacceptable, was Cornet Bronsby's appalling death.

He lit another cigarette, slightly morose and depressed. 'Oh, to hell with it. What's getting into me?'

At that moment, he was hailed from the door of the pub and turned to find Billy running toward him. He ducked under the umbrella.

'What are you trying to do, drown yourself?'

'Something like that.'

'Oh, I see, a bad hair day. Let's all feel sorry for Sean Dillon.'

'Go to hell,' Dillon told him.

'Yes, well, you need some Dark Man food in you, and a drink. I mean, you're an older guy. You can't go through what we have in the last few weeks and come out of it as fresh as I do.'

Dillon laughed out loud. 'You cheeky young sod.'

'That's better.'

He led the way inside, where the bar was busy, but Baxter and Hall had the end booth. Billy and Dillon found them, and Billy said, 'Scarper, you two, we've got things to discuss. Tell the bird at the bar to bring us a bottle of Bollinger, two glasses and some Irish stew.'

The Irishman said, 'What is this, be nice to Dillon week?'

'Come off it. You killed Rashid's two brothers, and now he wants your balls and expects you to go to Dauncey tomorrow and face up to him, Superintendent Bernstein said, and for some reason, you want to give him his chance. He's the one who's crazy.'

'And maybe me, too, Billy, like I said.' 'Bollocks. I've never known when you didn't know exactly what you're doing. You speak several languages, you can fly any kind of plane, you're a master diver. Harry told me all about it. You were the one who challenged Rashid -and now you've got this daft idea you're going to do it on your own. Well, I won't let you. I told Harry that.'

'He must have loved that.' 'Actually, he approved. He told me to let you go, then he and I would follow you down. "Moral support" was a phrase he used.'

One of the young girls behind the bar brought a bucket of ice, Bollinger and glasses. Dillon nodded to Baxter and Hall at the bar, drinking beer. 'A glass each for those two.' 'You're so considerate,' Billy said. 'I'll show you how considerate I can be. I'm actually going to give you your wish, Billy. You can walk down the street with me just like in a bad movie. I'll supply Walthers and titanium waistcoats, because he means it, Billy. Like Hannah Bernstein said, he couldn't live with me alive. He'd love getting you, too.'

'I know,' Billy said. 'But I'm going to cover your back.'

'There's only one thing, Billy. Ferguson knows I'm going and won't stop me, but Harry, as much as he may joke about it, really is getting older. I don't want him worrying about you.'

'So what do we do?'

'You phone him late tonight at the Rosedene and tell him Ferguson's had me put in the nick to stop me doing anything stupid. You and I can clear off for Dauncey in the morning. You provide the limousine. The service is at eleven thirty. Will you do it that way?'