Peter O'Donnell - Cobra Trap

At the clifftop the cable ran only a few feet above the ground. Modesty touched down and surveyed the bay. A small landing-stage with a motorboat moored to it lay to her left. To the right she could see across the curve of the cliff to steps that wound down to the bay. Mountjoy and Bird were more than halfway down. Directly ahead, Lucy's basket was partly sunk in the sea now, with the balloon collapsing to one side of it. So much the better. It would provide a better anchor for the far end of the cable.

She tested the tension, decided it would do, and again began to slide down the wire, hanging by hands and one foot. This was a steeper angle, and the leather boot was smoking as she came to within a few yards of the sea's edge before dropping to the sand. Turning, she saw Mountjoy and Bird halt for a moment at sight of her, then they came on.

She lifted the hem of her tunic to clear the Colt.32 holstered beneath it on her right hip, and pulled the drawstring round the hem tight to hold it securely. Then the whole of her being focused on the approaching men, with no other thought or awareness intruding upon her concentration.

They halted six paces away. Mountjoy's hands were empty, his large face unreadable. Bird was smiling a little, a sparkle of eagerness in his eyes. Mountjoy said, "I have to point out that you are in our way."

She kept his hands within the cone of her vision, but her eyes were on Bird. She said, "Which of you is the expert with the boltcutters?"

Bird's smile widened. He lifted his right hand very slowly to take off his clerical hat, held it across his chest and said, "My pleasure."

Modesty said, "You're not fit to live, but they'll let you, of course. Just turn round now and we'll go back the way you came."

Bird gave a resigned shrug as if of compliance, then let the hat fall. His gun was out and the hat was at thigh height when her bullet grazed the thumbjoint and ripped his heart open. The impact rocked him back, and his gun fell to the sand as he went down. There were seconds of silence, then Mountjoy looked down at the dead man and said, "Poor Simon. It's just as well you killed him. His pride could never have survived defeat by a woman."

She studied Mountjoy for a few seconds, and knew the man carried no gun that he could reach swiftly. Bird's gun lay well away on the far side of his body. Stepping forward three paces, never taking her eyes off Mountjoy, she bent to lay the Colt on a small patch of flat rock showing through the sand.

"Or you can spend the next twenty years in gaol," she said, and stepped back, waiting.

The moonlight was on her face, and what Mountjoy saw in her eyes told him that if he moved he was a dead man, for she would be upon him long before he could reach the gun. He had male strength and was twice her weight, but he knew beyond doubt that she would be infinitely more skilled and carried death in her bare hands.

Mountjoy looked about him, at the sea, the cliffs, the sky, then at the woman before him. "Madam," he said, "will you permit me to see myself out?"

She looked at him without expression and said nothing. Very slowly he put thumb and finger into a waistcoat pocket and withdrew them pinched together. He put them to his lips, then lowered the hand with thumb and finger spread wide. For a moment he gazed at Modesty with open contempt. "I despise you, madam," he said. "Had the boot been on the other foot you would have died screaming."

His jaws clenched as if crunching something, then his head jerked back and his mouth gaped as he choked and panted convulsively. The big body crumpled to the sand facedown, twitched for perhaps ten seconds, then was still. Modesty moved forward, picking up the Colt. Gun aimed, she set her unshod foot on one of Mountjoy's wrists, then bent to feel with her free hand for the pulse in his neck.

There was nothing. The man was dead. She straightened up, bolstering the gun, then turned as she heard Lucy's voice calling.

"I say…!" Lucy was wading in through the shallows, pushing wet hair back from her face. "I'm frightfully sorry not to be on the roof, Modesty, but they suddenly let the cable run and it must have got caught up there somewhere and I was absolutely stuck out over the sea, and then it sank, I mean the balloon did, so I thought I'd better swim ashore."

She came splashing out on to the sand, water streaming from her clothes. Modesty said, "You're all right, Lucy?"

"Well, I'm a bit miffed about the balloon. I mean, I hope we can get it back, or I don't know what Daddy will say." She stared at the two bodies, frowning. "I say, was that a vicar I saw trying to shoot you just now?"

Modesty said gravely, "I don't think he'd actually been ordained."

"Well, I should jolly well hope not. I mean, it would be a bit much, wouldn't it?"

Modesty felt laughter and an unexpected affection for Lucy rising within her. She took the girl by the arm and began to move towards the cliff steps. "Come and tell Willie about it being a bit much," she said. "He'll love it."

Two men wearing flak-jackets and carrying guns came into the room where Willie Garvin sat on the windowseat facing the door, a knife in his hand. One of them turned and called down the passage, "Here, sir!"

Tarrant appeared, followed by Fraser. The two armed men went out. Tarrant looked about the room, then at Willie. "We've found only two men capable of resistance," he said, "and they decided against it. Where's Modesty?"

Willie looked surprised. "I 'ad an idea you'd ask about Hallenberg first," he said, and slid the knife back into its sheath. "Mountjoy and his reverend brother did a bunk down to the bay. Modesty went after 'em."

Tarrant glared. "Then why the hell aren't you with her?"

Willie stood up. "Because, my little old civil servant, she told me to stay and look after your goodies." He pushed the cushion off the windowseat and opened the lid. Tarrant and Fraser moved forward to look down on Hallenberg lying unconscious inside. "He wouldn't come quiet," said Willie. "She tried to persuade him but then we got blown, so we gave 'im a shot and dumped the silly bugger 'ere while we 'opped about creating diversions for you. We figured the last place they'd look for 'im was in 'is own room."

Fraser nodded approval. "Better than being lumbered with him while you were hopping about. Why has he only got one shoe on?"

Willie smiled. "We left it just along the passage, where they'd find it and reckon it came off while we were taking 'im away—which they did." He shook his head. "That was the Princess. You can't believe 'ow fast she thinks when it's all 'appening." He looked down at Hallenberg and let the lid fall. "You're welcome to 'im."

It was just before dawn when Willie slowed the car to a halt outside the penthouse. Modesty was asleep beside him, her head on his shoulder. He patted her cheek and said, "You're 'ome, Princess."

She opened her eyes, yawned, sat up, reached for her handbag. She wore a duffel coat over her tunic now. Willie made a move to get out but she put a hand on his arm. "Thanks, Willie love. Don't get out." She turned to where Lucy sat sleepily in the back. "Bye, Lucy, and many thanks. We'll arrange about a new balloon and equipment."

"Well, jolly nice of you, Modesty. Thanks."

Modesty opened the door, paused, looked back. "Willie, I've got tickets for the Royal Ballet on Thursday if you're not doing anything."

He nodded. "That's great. I always 'ave a good laugh at the ballet."

She smiled, reached out to ruffle his hair, then got out and closed the door. Willie said, "Right. I'll drop you off 'ome now, Lucy."

Ten minutes later he was opening Lucy's front door for her. In that time she had not spoken and was clearly deep in thought. Willie handed her the key and said, "You don't fancy asking me in for breakfast?"