Jack Higgins - Drink With The Devil

“Overdose can be a problem. Three at the same time would actually promote a severe angina attack.”

“Of a critical nature?”

“Probably not, but it would give the patient a bad shock for a couple of days. Tell him to be careful.”

“Thank you.”

Kathleen went along to the staff room, got her coat and shoulder bag, and left by the main entrance. As she walked across the car park, Giovanni Mori drove past her in the limousine and turned into the main road.

THE DON WAS in an expansive mood when Sollazo went to see him. “You look pleased with yourself, Marco.”

“I think I have a solution.”

“Good, but family business first. Anything for me to sign?”

“A couple of property deeds, a transfer. I have them here.” Sollazo opened his briefcase and took out various papers.

“Let’s get on with it.” He produced a pen and did what was necessary. “Good. Now a couple of my very special vodka martinis.”

“The best in the world.”

“Of course.” Russo went behind the bar and mixed the drinks, and Sollazo sat on a bar stool. The martini was excellent and he savored it with pleasure. The old man toasted him. “The Ryan business. Tell me.”

Which Sollazo did in finest detail. When he was finished, the Don said, “You really think Mori could manage this on his own?”

“Absolutely and so simple. No one else involved.”

“It would require Ryan’s co-operation.”

“But, of course.”

“And he’ll want his niece with him.”

“Naturally.”

“So how will you persuade him?”

“To quote your favorite film, ‘I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.”’

The old man nodded. “There must be no link between you and Ryan, no link with the Family. In the event of success, we don’t want the police tying us in.”

“No problem there. When I go to Green Rapids, it’s to see Salamone, all perfectly legitimate, but the regime there is so ridiculously liberal, prisoners walking round the park area with their families or attorneys, that it’s possible to talk to anyone. Salamone tells me the girl visits her uncle again tomorrow at eleven. I’ll see him then and take the opportunity of speaking to Ryan.”

The Don sipped his martini thoughtfully. “Tell me, Salamone’s expectations of some sort of movement as regards reducing his sentence. Have you any hopes there?”

“None at all, but I try to keep his hopes up for other reasons. He knows a great deal about Family business.”

“Too much. There is an old Sicilian saying, ‘Better to lop the branch than lose the tree.”’ The Don nodded gravely. “And there would be the point that he is the only link between us and this Ryan affair.”

“He’s entirely disposable,” Sollazo said calmly. “So he has an accident one day. We have friends in there happy to oblige.”

“Good. I’ll let you get on with it, then.”

IT WAS A fine bright morning just before eleven when Sollazo strolled through the park with Salamone.

“You’ve done well for us,” the lawyer said. “The Don is pleased.”

“Great.” Salamone nodded eagerly. “And how’s my case going?”

“I’m working on it, Paolo, these things take time.”

At that moment he saw Michael Ryan and Kathleen move down toward the lake and sit down in one of the rustic shelters.

KATHLEEN WAS SAYING, “Dazane, that new heart pill you’re on. You have to be careful to stick to the right dosage.”

“Sure and I know that. One, three times a day.”

“I checked with Doctor Sieed. If you took three at the same time it would actually promote an angina attack.”

“And that would be curtains?”

“Let’s say you wouldn’t feel too good for a while.”

At that moment Marco Sollazo appeared before them, elegant in his dark suit and long Armani raincoat.

“Good morning, Mr. Ryan.” He smiled at Kathleen. “Miss Ryan.”

Ryan went very still. “You’ve got the wrong names, mister, you must have made a mistake.”

“I don’t think so.”

Kathleen said, “Leave off, Uncle Michael.” She looked at Sollazo grimly. “What’s it about?”

“To start with, I know all about you. Michael and Kathleen Ryan, still wanted in Ulster for a number of terrorist activities on behalf of the Loyalist cause. I suppose the British could apply for your extradition if they knew where you were, Miss Ryan.”

“Damn you,” she said. “What is it you want?”

“The gold bullion that went down ten years ago on the Irish Rose off the coast of County Down, and please don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

They both sat there staring at him. Finally Ryan said, “You seem to know a great deal.”

“I know everything.”

“Right, then,” Ryan told him. “Then you must know that the Irish Rose sank in the darkness with a bad sea running. We were off course. I don’t know where it went down.”

“Yes, you do. You had a gadget called a Master Navigator in your pocket, a sort of mini computer that perfectly calculated your course and position.”

Ryan, for once, looked amazed. “But how could you know such a thing? Only myself knew that and Kathleen when I told her.”

“Someone was standing behind a tree listening when you told her. A man you knew as Martin Keogh.”

It was Kathleen who spoke now, her face solemn. “You speak as if he was someone else?”

“Oh, he was. Mr Ryan, did you ever meet the IRA Chief of Staff at that time, Jack Barry?”

“Not face-to-face.”

“He knew your original plan had been turned down by your Army Council, heard a whisper that you intended to go ahead privately, so he ordered his best man to infiltrate you.”

Kathleen’s face was very pale. “Who was he?”

“A man called Sean Dillon. You’ve heard of him?”

“Oh, yes.” Ryan nodded. “A legend. The man of a thousand faces they used to say. He was once an actor. Foiled the Army, the RUC for a year.” He shook his head. “Never got lifted once. So he was Martin.”

“The bastard,” Kathleen said.

“He could have killed you on the road that morning and taken the Master Navigator. Barry was annoyed with him for not doing so. He told Barry he liked you.” He smiled at the girl. “And you.”

“Fuck him.” There were hot tears in her eyes. “I hope he rots in hell.”

“Actually he’s working for a highly secret branch of British Intelligence these days.”

“God save us.” Ryan laughed out loud. “And wouldn’t that be the Martin we knew and loved.”

“I KNOW WHO you are now,” Ryan said. “You’re the Mafia attorney who looks after Paolo Salamone. You work for the Russo Family.”

“Does that matter? Look, to business. I know everything right down to the fact that you, Miss Ryan, are in possession of false Irish passports in the names of Daniel and Nancy Forbes. I know that you’re a nurse at Green Rapids General Hospital.”

“You know a lot, mister, but where is this leading?”

“To me arranging the escape of your uncle from the hospital when he goes for his heart scan on Tuesday morning.”

There was a total silence and a kind of awe on Ryan’s face. “Dear God, and you actually mean it.”

“Certainly.”

“Just a minute,” Kathleen put in and her face was hard. “What would he have to do in exchange for that?”

“Disclose the position of the Irish Rose ,” Sollazo said calmly. “We’ve done a deal with Jack Barry. I saw him the other day in Dublin. He’s no longer Chief of Staff, but he’s willing to co-operate on behalf of his movement. A preliminary survey to locate the ship first, then my organization will lay on some suitable salvage operation as a front.”