Peter O'Donnell - Cobra Trap

His voice tailed away and tears welled from the eye Modesty could see. Quickly she moved to dab them away with her handkerchief. He swallowed, fought for control and croaked, "Oh Christ, darling. Can you imagine it? My poor Dinah."

"We've been imagining it, Steve," she said quietly. "Now just do some deep breathing until you steady up."

"Sure. Can't breathe too deep with these sodding ribs." A ghost of a laugh and a wince of pain. Two minutes later he said in a steady voice, "I won't apologise for the exhibition. Not the first I've done for you, is it?"

She bent to kiss his cheek, then sat down again. "Are you up to telling me the rest?"

"There's not much left. I think they dumped me outside the pub and pushed Dinah out with me. I vaguely remember her supporting me, trying to get me to the car. When I came round a bit more I was sitting half in the car with my feet on the ground, and passersby were giving us a wide berth. I couldn't drive and Dinah couldn't do anything, but then a builder's van stopped to ask what was wrong. He had a mobile phone and rang for an ambulance. His name's Dan Ringmer, of Ringmer Contractors—remember it for me, Modesty. I must get in touch to thank him. I guess that's about all."

She studied him thoughtfully. "No. What is it you wanted to say that you don't want Dinah to hear?"

"Oh God, yes. That's the important thing. The only thing that really matters." He put out his hand to her. "I'm not going to the police about this because I'm sure it's a waste of time, and I know what you and Willie will be thinking but I don't want you to do anything. Anything at all."

"Because you're afraid for Dinah? I know how it works, Steve. The doctor told me."

"All right, maybe it's all a big bluff, but I can't put her at risk, Modesty. I can't ."

"Do you think Willie or I would? She's very precious to us, Steve. Look, do you trust us?"

He stared. "Of course I bloody do. Christ, you've seen us through all kinds of lethal shit."

"Then you can be sure that nothing we do will create a threat to Dinah. Okay?"

He sighed. "I've never yet won an argument with you. Okay, then." He closed his eyes. "God, I'd like to see that animal get his comeuppance."

"So would that doctor and a lot of other people. We'll see what can be done. Now I'll just fetch Dinah to say goodnight, then we'll take her home, and if you behave yourself we'll probably be able to collect you tomorrow. All right?"

He opened his eye and looked at her quietly, remembering many things they had shared. "In some ways you're not too bad," he said. "Not too bad at all."

At ninethirty that evening when they were at the coffee stage of dinner at the penthouse there came a phonecall from Sayle Manor. Lord Sayle would like to speak to Miss Blaise if convenient to her. It was Old Alex, and she left Dinah and Willie to talk, taking her coffee through to the drawingroom. Old Alex had nothing in particular to say, yet after half an hour he was still speaking, remembering the occasion of his finding her in the cave, reminiscing about his life on the farm, practising a little of his returning English, and describing the wonders of his life today, of London, of his caring family, of his visit to the House of Lords.

At ten Inspector Brook phoned from reception to ask if it was too late to call with some information he had gathered. Willie said, "No, come on up, Brookie. She's talking to one of 'er upper class friends but she won't mind coming downmarket for a copper."

By the time Brook reached the penthouse foyer she was waiting for him. "Hallo Brookie, do you mind if we talk at table? Weng's just making some fresh coffee."

"I'd love some, thanks." He kissed her cheek.

"And our friend Dinah is with us. You've met her a couple of times."

"Indeed. Not a lady I'm likely to forget. I'm an admirer." In the diningroom when he shook hands with Dinah he said, "I'm deeply sorry about what happened to your husband, Mrs Collier. This has been a great ordeal for you."

Her smile was tired but genuine. She said, "Thank you, Inspector. If you'll excuse me I'll leave you to talk with Modesty and Willie alone." She turned her head to Modesty. "Look in on me later, honey. I won't be asleep."

"I'll do that."

Brook watched as she walked to the door and turned into the passage without hesitation. "How does she do it?" he said softly.

"She knows the layout," Modesty answered, "and we're careful to keep everything in place while she's with us. But in a strange area she can locate any sizeable object by making a highpitched whistle on the edge of human hearing and picking up the reflection." Her lips tightened. "It didn't help her at The Black Horse. When I think-" She broke off. "Never mind. What have you got for us, Brookie?" She gestured to Dinah's chair and began to pour coffee.

Inspector Brook said, "This evening I went over to see Harry Lomax, my oppo who covers that area. He knows all about The Black Horse and Pike, and he reckons Pike is the enforcer for a pretty powerful group." He took the cup Modesty passed him. "Thanks. Possibly Salamander Four."

She stared in surprise. "Salamander Four? Oh, surely not. They're into highclass big money projects, not East End thuggery."

"Yes, I know you've crossed swords with them once or twice, and my first reaction was the same as yours, but Harry Lomax doesn't exaggerate and he says things have changed. There's a hell of a lot of money sloshing about in the East End these days, and the mobs are getting more sophisticated all the time. Salamander Four always contract out. Okay, if they want an industrial espionage job done they'll give it to a suitable upmarket specialist. If they've taken on a killing they'll pick the right hitman for it. But think of the loot that's gone missing from bank robberies, ramraids, security van holdups over the last few years. Those jobs call for basic thuggery, hard men with iron bars, the lowest layer of the criminal world. So the bigboys are taking over that area, controlling it, subcontracting. And for that they need enforcers, men who create intense fear, who can intimidate witnesses, intimidate people on juries. Sadistic psychopaths like Pike."

Brook had been speaking ever more quickly, now he stopped abruptly and shook his head.

Willie said, "You got a bit carried away there."

Brook drank some coffee and leant back in his chair. "Sorry. I must have picked up some of Harry Lomax's frustration about it."

Modesty said, "There's nothing he can do?"

"Like what, for God's sake? We can't move without evidence, you know that. If people won't bring charges and won't give evidence we're hogtied. Will your Professor Collier bring a charge of assault?"

"I'm afraid not. He's scared for his wife."

"There you are, then."

There was a long silence. At last Modesty said, "Well, thanks for calling in, Brookie. If you haven't eaten, Weng can put up a simple supper, or you can stay and have a general natter with some background jazz." She smiled and touched his hand. "You're always welcome."

"Thanks, but I'll be getting home." Brook sat frowning for a moment, then went on, "Let's get this clear. I'm a copper, and I don't approve of anything in the way of vigilante action."

Willie Garvin looked hurt. Modesty said, "Neither do we. But if I'm attacked I'm entitled to defend myself, surely?"

Willie said, "And if the attacker doesn't bring charges there's nothing to answer, is there?"

Brook got to his feet. "Let's leave it at that," he said. "Thanks for the coffee."

Two weeks later Collier stood by the great picture window of the penthouse looking out over Hyde Park. They're up to something," he said. "I can smell it."

Dinah came up beside him and slipped an arm round his waist. "If you can smell, that's good," she said. "The nose feels normal now, but it's great to know you've got it working again."