Drink With the Devil Read Free Page B

problem. I’ve always preferred to use what I call hired help, and for that I go to the underworld. An honest thief who is working for wages is a sounder proposition than some revolutionary hothead.”
    “So that’s where I come in?” Keogh said. “Hired help, just like anyone else you need?”
    “Exactly. So, are you in or out? If it’s no, then say so. After what you did for Kathleen tonight you’ll come to no harm from me.”
    “Well that’s nice to know.” Keogh shrugged. “Oh, what the hell, I might as well give it a try. A change from the North Sea. Terrible weather there at this time of the year.”
    “Good man yourself.” Ryan smiled. “A couple of Bushmills, Kathleen, and we’ll drink to it.”
     
     
    “W HERE ARE YOU staying?” Ryan asked.
    “A fleapit called the Albert Hotel,” Keogh told him.
    “Fleapit, indeed,” Ryan toasted him. “Our country too.”
    “May you die in Ireland,” Keogh replied.
    “An excellent sentiment.” Ryan swallowed his Bushmills in a single gulp.
    “So what happens now?”
    “I’ll tell you in London. We’ll fly there, you, me, and Kathleen. There’s someone I have to see.”
    Keogh turned to the girl. “An activist is it? A little young I would have thought.”
    “I bloody told you, they blew up my family when I was ten years old, Mr. Keogh,” she said fiercely. “I grew up fast after that.”
    “A hard world.”
    “And I’ll make it harder for the other side, believe me.”
    “You hate well, I’ll say that.” Keogh turned back to her uncle. “So that’s it, then?” He shook his hand. “What am I really getting into? I should know more.”
    “All right, a taster only. How well do you know the northwest of England? The Lake District?”
    “I’ve never been there.”
    “A wild and lonely area at this time of the year with the tourists gone.”
    “So?”
    “A certain truck will be passing through there, a meat transporter. You and I will hijack it. Very simple, very fast. A five-minute job.”
    “You did say meat transporter?”
    Ryan smiled. “That’s what this truck is. What’s inside is another matter. You find that out later.”
    “And what happens afterwards?”
    “We drive to a place on the Cumbrian coast where there’s an old disused jetty. There will be a boat waiting, a Siemens ferry. Do you know what that is?”
    “The Germans used them in World War Two to transport heavy equipment and men in coastal attacks.”
    “You’re well informed. We drive on board and sail for Ulster. I’ve found a suitable spot on the coast where there’s a disused quarry pier. We drive the truck off the boat and disappear into the night. All beautifully simple.”
    “So it would seem,” Keogh said. “And the crew of this Siemens ferry? What are they doing?”
    “Earning their wages. As far as they are concerned, it’s just some sort of illegal traffic or other. They do it all the time. They’re those sort of people.”
    “Crooks, you mean.”
    “Exactly. The boat is tied up near Wapping at the moment. That’s why we’re going to London. To finalize things.”
    There was a pause and then Kathleen Ryan said, “What do you think, Mr. Keogh?”
    “That you’d better start calling me Martin as it seems we’re going to spend some time together.”
    “But do you think it would work?”
    “Its greatest virtue, as your uncle says, is its simplicity. It could work perfectly just like a Swiss watch. On the other hand, even Swiss watches break down sometimes.”
    “O ye of little faith.” Ryan smiled. “Of course it will work. It’s got to. My organization needs the means to buy arms for our people. It’s essential. There’s a passage in the Koran that says there is more truth in one sword than ten thousand words.”
    “I take your point.” Keogh stood up. “It’s late. I’d better get back to my hotel.”
    “Join us here for breakfast in the morning,” Ryan told him. “We’ll catch the noon plane. I’ll take care of the