Adrian McKinty - The Dead Yard

“Michael, what do you think you’re-” she began, but I put my hand on her thigh and cut her off.

“Just listen… listen first. This is the whole story. We broke into the National Guard base to steal explosives, there was a soldier on guard duty, Seamus grabbed him, and he alerted the peelers. We ran out into the swamps, Jackie got away, but the soldier fell down and Seamus decided to kill him… I had to shoot Seamus to save the soldier. I told the soldier not to say anything to the cops and to save it for the FBI. I think he’ll do what he’s told.”

Samantha redigested the information.

“Who was with you?”

“Seamus, me, Jackie.”

She thought for a moment.

“Are you sure the soldier won’t speak to the local police?”she asked.

“No, he won’t. I told him to tell the FBI what happened but not the local police. If I were you, I’d get on the blower straight away.”

“Good. Hold on a minute, darling. This line is secure. Let me take care of it.”

She picked up her car phone and called someone who told her that the FBI were on their way to Rowley. She asked to be transferred to Stephen Harrington. She filled in Harrington and told him to get Specialist Ryan away from the cops as soon as possible by telling them this was an FBI and ATF matter. When she was done, she hung up and blew me a kiss.

“You did well, Michael, you saved the day,” she said with a grin; but I wasn’t having any of it. She wasn’t going to butter me up.

“Damn right I did. In more ways than one. Not just telling the soldier boy what to say. I could have given myself up to the cops and my cover would have been blown and you’d have had to pull me out. Operation over. And the best you could have gotten from the whole thing would be Jackie for an attempted burglary. That would be it. Gerry, Touched, everyone else scot-free and a million times more suspicious. A million times more careful. Oh, and one more time, keep your bloody car away from Gerry’s house.”

Samantha nodded.

“I’m sorry, I just drove over there today to make sure that you were installed safely, get the lay of the land around the house. Did someone comment on it?”

“No one commented on it, but don’t do it again, Touched notices things. And you don’t need to walk up the beach to give me warnings either. I may be a novice at this but I can handle myself. Just stay off Plum Island completely. With me you have to lay back. Give me room to breathe.”

She nodded. She had been overprotective and she had made a mistake. I was right to put her in her place.

We reached Newburyport. She drove up State and down Pleasant and pulled round the back of All Things Brit. She parked the car and turned off the lights. I looked at her. She knew I was gunning for something.

“What?” she asked.

“You want to talk here or in your flat?”

“We don’t have to talk.”

“Oh, I think we do,” I insisted.

“What do you want me to say, darling? Don’t make me cross. I’ve already told you that you did a jolly good job,” she said.

“No, no, it’s gone beyond the pat on the back. I saved the operation tonight.”

She opened her handbag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offered me one. I declined; she lit one for herself.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I want a million dollars. Half a million each for the convictions of Touched and Gerry.”

“You want money?” she asked incredulously.

“Aye, I want money. The FBI gives me a stipend of about five hundred a week. It’s nothing. I want to be set for life. This is my opportunity.”

“A million dollars. Don’t be silly, there’s no way Six would ever approve-”

“Oh, they’ll approve. You were right, Samantha, it’s not just a bunch of dreamers. These guys are serious. Have you heard of a group called the Real IRA?”

“Yes, dissident republicans, very small, nothing much to worry about-”

“You think not? Well, I beg to differ. Gerry and Touched are planning to go under their umbrella in the next few months. Their plan is to set up cells and start a bombing cam- paign as soon as possible. By Christmas, they’ll have bombed a lot of commercial targets, got the nod from the Real IRA, and then they’re going to go for targeted assassinations. They are going to be killing people. Ambassadors, businessmen, retired army officers. These boys are bloody serious. And they’re careful and they’re good. And I’m the best chance you’ve got of bringing them down before they get started. We’ll save lives, save treasure, nab the fuckers. It’s the only way. You won’t discourage them by harassment. They’re hard-core. They’re pissed off at the IRA, at the American government, at the Brits, at anyone in their way. Very, very dangerous.”

Samantha looked at me with contempt.

“If that’s true, then it’s your duty to help bring-”

“Duty nothing. I had a way out tonight. You know it, I know it, and there’s bugger-all you could have done about it. I could have turned myself in to the peelers and blown my cover. But I didn’t. I had to kill a man tonight. Let’s not forget I saved that soldier boy’s life and topped a pal of mine.”

“Seamus wasn’t your-”

“It doesn’t matter if he was or he wasn’t. It’s still not easy. Ok? So as I see it, I’ve made plenty of sacrifices for you already and if this operation is to continue I want the fucking money. What’s a million to the civil service? To MI6? I don’t know, what would it be, less than a tenth of one percent of your annual budget? It’s nothing. And this will be a major coup. Kudos from the Yanks, muy prestige, promotions all round.”

Samantha thought for a moment.

“I suppose I could ask. It really wouldn’t do any harm to ask.”

“Damn right you’ll ask and you’ll get it.”

“I can’t guarantee anything. But certainly, darling, I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

I shook my head.

“No, that’s not good enough. You won’t see what you can bloody do. You’ll make an oral agreement with me right now, and you’ll have it drawn up by tomorrow. I want a pardon from Mexico and from Spain and I want my record wiped and I want a million bucks for information leading to the convictions of Touched and Gerry.”

She puffed on her fag, stubbed it into the ashtray. Opened the box, took out another.

“Well?” I persisted.

She nodded, looked at me.

“Ok, Michael,” she said softly.

“You’ll get it done?”

“I’ll get it done.”

“Good. Now, you got any water? I am dying of thirst.”

She reached behind her seat and handed me a bottle of water. I drank the entire thing in one big gulp.

“You want to take a shower at my place?” she asked.

“No, I can’t.”

“What are you going to do now?” she asked, concern drifting back into her voice.

“I’m going to go back to PI and square it with Touched. I’ll say I got separated from Seamus and the soldier and I don’t know what happened next.”

She thought for a moment.

“I’ll get the ATF to take over the investigation tonight. And we’ll do a press release tomorrow. We’ll say that it was a burglary gone wrong and the burglars took the soldier hostage and he escaped.”

“Seamus worked for Gerry, so when you find his body you’ll have to send a couple of FBI agents round to the construction firm. It’ll be too suspicious if you don’t,” I said.

“Of course. And we’ll bring Gerry in for questioning, too.

It’s the least he’ll be expecting. And this might be enough to get a judge to order a tap on his phones, although I believe they’re awfully strict in this country,” she said.

“Tap all you want, but I’m not wearing anything,” I said.