Jack Higgins - Angel Of Death

“It can’t be,” Hannah said.

“Her way out, my dear,” Ferguson told her. “She spoke to Colonel Belov, told him she intended to be here and knew he’d tell us. She’d nowhere else to go, you see.”

“Damn her!” Hannah Bernstein said. “Damn her! Damn her! Damn her for making me do that.”

Dillon went and took the Walther from her. He put an arm around her. “Hush, girl dear, it isn’t on you, this thing,” and he held her close.

Behind them Ferguson was using his Cellnet phone. He punched out the number and a calm, detached voice said, “Yes?”

“ Ferguson. I have a disposal. Total priority and utmost discretion. Seaton and Sons, Great George Street. I’ll wait.”

“Twenty minutes, Brigadier.”

Ferguson put his phone away and turned. “All for the best. She’ll be picked up in twenty minutes. A few hours and she’ll be five or six pounds of gray ash.”

“But you can’t do that,” Hannah Bernstein said.

“Oh, yes I can,” Charles Ferguson said calmly. “As far as the papers and the media are concerned, her body was discovered downriver. There will be no problem with the inquest, I’ll see to that. She had no relatives, remember?”

“Terrible,” Hannah Bernstein said. “Terrible.”

“It’s the business we’re in,” Ferguson said and nodded to Dillon. “Take her home. Colonel Belov and I will wait here.”

It was Friday of that week that the Cortege wound its way through Highgate Cemetery. It stopped at the designated place and two members of the funeral firm involved carried the cask containing her ashes to the grave. It was raining heavily.

“Jesus,” Dillon said, “I’ve never seen so many umbrellas.”

“An impressive turnout,” Ferguson said. “Sir John Gielgud over there, Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson, Ian Richardson. The great and the good.”

They were standing well away from the throng, Ferguson, Hannah Bernstein, and Dillon. Hannah said, “Isn’t it extraordinary – all those people and not one of them knows the truth.”

The priest’s voice was faint through the rain. Dillon said, “Right to the end she always played to a full house, you have to give her that.” He put an arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “Come on, girl dear, let’s go,” and they walked away, Ferguson following.

Jack Higgins was a soldier and then a teacher before becoming a full-time writer. The Eagle Has Landed turned him into an international bestselling author and his novels have since sold over 250 million copies and been translated into fifty-five languages. Many of them have also been made into successful films.