the Savage Day - Simon Vaughn 02 (v5) Read online

  As I surfaced they were already swinging the net in over the deck. 'Jesus, man, is this the best you can do?' McGuire called.

  'It's bloody hard work,' I told him.

  'Well, you'd better get on with it or we'll be here all day.'

  I glanced at Binnie, who was crouched over the rail, busily engaged in moving the ingots. Dooley stood against the rail towards the prow watching me, so I gave him two fingers and dived.

  I went nearly all the way to the bottom before changing direction and striking for the surface again, keeping directly under the keel of the Kathleen. When I was almost there, I unbuckled the straps of my aqualung and got rid of it, surfacing gently on the other side of Kathleen.

  I heard Binnie say angrily, 'Will you watch what you're doing, you stupid bastard, or you'll get my fist in your teeth.'

  'You little runt,' McGuire answered. 'I'll break your bloody neck.'

  I could see none of this, of course, as I hauled myself under the rail and slipped inside the wheelhouse. My finger found the button under the chart table, the flap fell.

  I reached for the Mauser with my left hand. As I pulled it from the clip, there was the faintest of sounds behind me. I turned, very carefully, to find Dooley standing in the open doorway.

  What sixth sense had brought him there I'll never know, but there was no expression on his face as he stood covering me with the Sterling. I dropped the Mauser, having little option in the matter. He smiled beautifully, then shot me through the left forearm. I lay on my back in the corner for a moment. There was some sort of disturbance taking place on the other side of the wheelhouse for I could hear McGuire cursing.

  Gunshot wounds seldom hurt straight away, but the shock to the nervous system is considerable so that I was understandably not quite myself as I struggled to my feet.

  I fully expected Dooley to finish me off there and then, but instead, he moved outside and beckoned me to follow. I must have looked quite a sight as I paused in the doorway, dazed and shocked, blood pouring from my left arm, because he gave me that smile again and lowered the Sterling.

  I think it was the smile that did it, but then I learned a long time ago that you survive in my line of country only by seizing each chance as it comes. I moved out of the door, swaying, ready to fall down at any moment, and gave him the edge of my right hand across his throat. He dropped the Sterling and staggered back against the companionway.

  By rights such a blow should have put him on his back, but the heavy collar of his reefer coat, turned up against the rain, saved him. As I leaned down and tried to pick up the Sterling, he came for me.

  I kicked the Sterling under the rail, which seemed the sensible thing to do and put a fist into his mouth when he got close enough. It was like hitting the Rock of Gibraltar and his own blow in return was of such devastating power that I felt at least two ribs go in my right side.

  He wrapped those great arms around me and started to squeeze. Perhaps he'd some pleasant little idea in mind like breaking my back across the rail. If so, it was his last mistake, for when he pushed me up against it I let myself go straight over, taking him with me.

  And the sea was my element, not his. I kicked hard, taking us down, clutching at his reefer coat as he tried to pull away. My back scraped against the anchor chain. I grabbed hold of it with my left hand, ignoring the pain, and clamped my right forearm across his throat.

  God, how he struggled, but he was already half-gone and nothing on top of earth or beneath it could have made me let go. My lungs were near to bursting when I finally released him and followed him up.

  Binnie reached for me as I surfaced beside Dooley. I sucked in air and shook my head. 'Give me a line. I'll pass it under his arms.'

  'Christ Jesus, Major, the bastard's dead. You've only got to look at him.'

  'Do as I say,' I insisted. 'I'll explain later.'

  Binnie got a line as I requested, I passed it under the dead man's arms and he hauled him over the rail. I followed a moment later and collapsed on the deck, my back against the wheelhouse.

  'Jesus, but you look in a bad way, Major,' Binnie said anxiously as he leaned over me.

  'Never mind that. What happened to McGuire?'

  'I put the knife to him and shoved him over the side.'

  'Good lad. Now bring me a bottle of Jameson up from the saloon and the first-aid kit. You've got some patching up to do.'

  I moved into the wheelhouse and he cut me out of the wet suit and set to work. By the time I was on my third large Jameson, he'd bandaged the forearm, but the ribs were a different proposition. He taped them up as best he could, but each time I breathed it felt like a knife in the lungs. After that, he gave me two shots of morphine under my instructions and helped me dress.

  I poured another large Jameson and he said anxiously, 'Sure, now, and didn't I read somewhere that booze and that stuff don't mix too well?'

  'Maybe not,' I said, 'but I need them both for what I've got to do.'

  'And what would that be, Major?'

  'Oh, get back to Spanish Head and sort out that bastard, Barry, once and for all.' I managed a grin. 'He's really beginning to annoy me, Binnie.'

  'I'm with you there all the way,' he said.

  'All right, then let's have a look at the situation. When we take the Kathleen in, there are two possibilities. The first is that Barry will be waiting on the jetty in person, eager for his first sight of the gold.'

  'And the second?'

  'He'll stay up at the house and leave his men, or some of them, to do the welcoming.'

  'But they'll know something is wrong the moment they see either of us at the wheel as we come in,' Binnie pointed out.

  I shook my head and fought hard to keep control of the pain in my side. 'But neither of us will be at the wheel, Binnie, that's the point.'

  I looked out to where Dooley sprawled on his back on the deck, eyes wide for all eternity.

  15

  Fire From Heaven

  We moved in towards the inlet below Spanish Head, Dooley in the helmsman's seat in the wheelhouse, his hands on the wheel. The ropes which held him in place were concealed by his reefer coat and I was satisfied that he would pass muster at any but the closest range.

  I steered on my hands and knees peering out through a hole I had kicked in the panelling of the wheelhouse for that very purpose. The pain wasn't so bad now, but I felt strangely numb. It was as if nothing was real and anything could happen. The effects of mixing morphine, Jameson and nine millimetre bullets before breakfast. A dangerous combination.

  We must certainly have been under surveillance for some considerable time for the mist had cleared now and visibility was quite good although it was still raining heavily.

  The Ford truck was parked half way along the jetty at the end of the road, but there was no sign of the Land-Rover. Two of Barry's men waited at the jetty's edge. One was smoking a cigarette. They both carried Sterlings.

  I called softly to Binnie who waited in the shelter of the companionway, 'No sign of Barry. Just the two of them. About a minute to go and when you hit, hit hard. We can't afford any mistakes at this stage.'

  One of the men called, 'Heh, Mac, where are you?'

  And then the other leaned forward and stared at Dooley, an expression of horror on his face. 'My God,' I heard him say. 'What's wrong with him?'

  As something like the truth dawned on them, I yelled, 'Now, Binnie.'

  He sprang from the shelter of the companionway, the Sten-gun bucking in his hands as he sprayed the top of the jetty. As I have said, the Sten Mk IIS is probably one of the most remarkable sub-machine-guns ever invented, the only sound as it is fired being the bolt clicking backwards and forwards. As that is not audible above a distance of twenty yards, there was no danger of anyone at Spanish Head being alerted to the holocaust below.

  Binnie cut them both down in that first second, knocking one of them clean over the edge of the jetty into the water, using all thirty-two rounds in the magazine as far as I cou
ld make out. He went over the rail to make the Kathleen fast, then started up the steps.

  'You get the truck started,' I called. 'I want to immobilize the engine, just in case anyone gets ideas.'

  I got what I needed from the wheelhouse, went aft, and took off the engine hatch and did what I had to do. It only took me two or three minutes, but in spite of that Binnie was waiting in an agony of impatience at the edge of the jetty.

  'For God's sake, Major, will you hurry.'

  The second of the two men he had killed was lying face down near the truck. There was a Browning on the ground beside him. I picked it up, slipped it into my pocket and heaved myself painfully into the cab.

  'Now what?' Binnie demanded as he drove away.

  I felt strangely lightheaded and my side was beginning to hurt like hell again and for some reason I found his question rather irritating.

  I said, 'As I don't happen to have my Tarot cards with me I can't answer that one, so just get us up to the house in one piece, there's a good lad, and we'll take it from there.'

  He glanced at me frowning, opened his mouth to speak and obviously thought better of it. I leaned back in my seat and fought against the tiredness which threatened to overwhelm me.

  We drove into the courtyard at the rear of the house very fast indeed and braked to a halt outside the back door. Binnie jumped down and was inside in a second. I summoned up my last reserves of will-power and energy and followed him.

  He kicked open the kitchen door and went in, crouching. There was only one occupant, a man in shirtsleeves who sat at the table drinking tea and reading a newspaper.

  Binnie had him against the wall in a flash and ran his hand over him, removing a Browning from the hip pocket and shoving it into his own waistband. He turned the man round and slapped him across the face.

  'Right, Keenan, you bastard. Tell us what we want to know or I'll give it to you now.'

  Keenan stared Death in the face and started to tremble. 'For God's sake, Binnie, take it easy, will you?'

  'All right,' I said. 'Speak up and you won't get hurt. Who else is in the house at the moment?'

  'Just Barry.'

  'And who's guarding the girl?' Binnie demanded, ramming the muzzle of the Browning up under Keenan's chin.

  'No one, Binnie, no one.' Keenan was shaking with fear. 'There's no need and her with Barry himself like always.'

  Binnie was beside himself with rage and grabbed Keenan by the shirt-front. 'Come on then, lead us to them. Make any kind of wrong move and I'll kill you.'

  'Just a moment, Binnie,' I said, and turned to Keenan. 'What about the Brigadier? Is he still in the cellar?'

  'That's right.'

  'Where's the key?'

  'Hanging on that nail there.'

  I took it down. 'We'll get him out now before we go any further.'

  'Why should we, for Christ's sake?' Binnie exploded.

  'He could be useful. If not now, later.'

  Which was pretty thin, but the best I could do on short notice. I went out before he could argue, opened the door at the end of the passage and went down the cellar steps.

  When I unlocked the door of the cell, the Brigadier was lying on the cot reading a book which looked suspiciously like the Bible. He looked at me calmly for a long moment over the top of it, then sat up.

  'I must say you've taken your own sweet time about it. What kept you?'

  'Oh, little, unimportant things like being shot in the arm and having my ribs kicked in, not to mention being chased over large parts of Ulster by what seemed, on occasion, to be the entire strength of the present British Army.'

  'And at exactly what stage in the affair are we now?'

  'Michael Cork is dead, I've found your gold, and Binnie Gallagher and I are about to see what we can do about Barry right now.' I took the spare Browning from my pocket and offered it to him. 'If you'd care to join in the fun, follow me, only keep that out of sight for the moment. I'm afraid Binnie thinks I'm Pearse, Connolly and Michael Collins all rolled into one. Very sad.'

  He was looking at me strangely, which didn't surprise me for my voice seemed to be coming from somewhere outside me. I turned and led the way out through the wine cellars and mounted the stairs to where Binnie waited impatiently with Keenan.

  'What kept you, for God's sake?' he demanded, then turned on the Brigadier without waiting for a reply. 'You follow close behind and keep your mouth shut, do you understand?'

  'Perfectly,' the Brigadier assured him.

  We went up, Keenan in the lead, and emerged through the green baize door into the hall. It was very quiet. He paused for a moment, listening, then started up that great stairway.

  We moved along the corridor, past the stiff ladies and gentlemen of by gone years, set in canvas for all time. Someone was playing a piano, I could hear it quite plainly, a Bach Prelude, lovely, ice-cold stuff, even at that time in the morning. The music was coming from inside Frank Barry's sitting-room and when we stopped at the door, I paused, caught by the beauty of it.

  'They're in there,' Keenan whispered.

  Binnie put a knee into his crutch, turned as Keenan slipped to the floor with a groan, and burst into the room, the Sten at the ready.

  Barry was seated at the piano and stopped playing instantly. Norah Murphy was in the chair by the fire. She jumped to her feet and turned to us, the dressing on her right cheek making her face seem misshapen and ugly.

  'Norah?' Binnie cried. 'Are you all right?'

  She stood staring at us, a strange dazed expression on her face, and then she ran forward suddenly and flung her arms around him. 'Oh, Binnie, Binnie I've never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life.'

  In the same moment, she yanked the Browning from his waistband and moved back to a point where she could cover all of us comfortably.

  'I would advise complete stillness, gentlemen, if you want to live, that is,' she said crisply in the harsh, pungent tones of the Norah Murphy I knew and loved.

  Frank Barry stayed where he was, but drew a revolver from a shoulder holster. The Brigadier and I, being sensible men, raised our hands although I didn't get very far with my left.

  'You know, I wondered about you from the beginning, sweetheart,' I said. 'The fact that Barry and his boys were waiting for us on the way in and the speed with which they ran poor old Meyer to earth. That really was rather hard to swallow.'

  'But you took it.'

  'Not really. It was the branding that finally persuaded me I must have been wrong. Now that was quite a show. What did you do, Barry, fill her up with pain-killer beforehand?'

  'Just like going to the dentist,' he said. 'But it needed something as drastic as that to persuade Binnie she was in real danger. To send him running to the Small Man.'

  'But she never was?' I said.

  'We wanted to know where the bullion was, old lad, and Cork wouldn't even tell Norah that. Had a thing about holding it in reserve as a last resort if the talking failed and he needed more arms.'

  'Talk,' Norah Murphy said. 'That's all he ever wanted to do and what good was it? He'd had his day, he and his kind. Now we'll try our way.'

  'Force and even more force,' the Brigadier said. 'Terror on terror, and what have you left after that little lot?'

  'It's the only way,' she said. 'The only way we can make them see we mean business. Frank understands.'

  'Which is why you've been working together?' I asked her.

  During all this, Binnie had stood as if turned to stone, the Sten-gun hanging from one hand by its sling, but this final remark seemed to bring him back to life.

  'You mean you're one of them?' he whispered. 'You've been working for Frank Barry all along? A man who would murder - has murdered - women, kids, anyone who happens to stand in his road at the wrong moment for them?'

  'Sometimes it's the only way, Binnie.' There was a pleading note in her voice as if she would make him understand. 'We can't afford weakness now. We must be strong.'

  'You bloody murderi
ng bitch,' he cried and took a step towards her, the Sten coming up.

  She shot him twice at close quarters, he staggered back, spun round and fell on his face.

  She stood there, the Browning ready in her hand for anyone else who made a move, very pale, but quite composed, showing no evidence of even the slightest remorse for what she had done.

  But it was Frank Barry who took over now. 'Answers, Vaughan, and quickly or you get the same here and now. Dooley, McGuire - the men I sent down to the jetty to meet the boat?'

  'All gone,' I said. 'Very sad.'

  'And the gold?'

  'On board the Kathleen.'

  'All of it?'

  'All that I could find.'

  He stood there, thinking for a moment, then said to Norah, 'All right, we're leaving now in the boat. You get the Land-Rover from the garage and meet me out front.'

  She went out quickly, stepping over Keenan, who still lay in the corridor moaning softly to himself and clutching his privates.

  I said, 'What about us?'

  'Behave yourselves and I'll let you go just before we leave. Now clap your hands behind your necks and start walking.'

  I didn't believe him, of course, not for a moment, but there didn't seem to be anything we could do about it. We went along the corridor, down the great stairway and out through the front door.

  There was no sign of Norah and Barry marched us across the gravel drive to the patch of grass with a balustrade from which one could look down into the inlet below. He finally told us to halt and we turned to face him.

  'Is this where we get it?' the Brigadier asked him.

  'I'm afraid so,' Barry said. 'But then I thought you'd prefer to have it outdoors and it really is a splendid view, you must admit.'

  The Land-Rover came round the corner and braked to a halt a few yards away. Norah Murphy sat behind the wheel looking at us, waiting for him to get on with it.

  'And behold how the evil ones shall reap fire from heaven,' I called. 'That's what the good book says. You'll get yours, Norah, never fear.'