‘We’ve got company,’ he said.
Angus moved to join him. He stiffened. ‘Just a minute.’ He laid the newspaper down on the draining board. ‘That looks damn like him right there on the front page to me.’
Hector examined the newspaper report quickly. ‘Jesus, Angus, we’ve got a right one here. Real trouble.’
‘Just another little Mick straight out of the bogs,’ Angus said contemptuously. ‘Plenty of room for him at the bottom of the well, just like the others.’
That’s true.’ Hector nodded solemnly.
‘But not the girl.’ Angus wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. ‘I like the look of her. She’s mine, you old bastard. Just remember that. Now let them in,’ he added, as there came a knock at the door.
‘You know the Mungo brothers then, Sergeant?’ Fox asked Brodie.
They were in the guard’s van at the back of the speeding train, the four of them: Devlin, Fox, Trent and the big sergeant.
‘They’re animals,’ Brodie said. ‘Everyone in the district is terrified of them. I don’t know how they make a living up there. They’ve both done prison time, Hector for operating an illegal whisky still. He’s been inside three times for that. Angus has a string of minor offences to his name and then he killed a man in a fist fight some time back. Sentenced to five years, but they let him out in three. And twice he’s been accused of rapes and then the women concerned have dropped the charges. The suggestion that they operate a safe house
doesn’t surprise me, but I’ve no knowledge of it and it certainly has never been mentioned in their files.’
‘How close can we get to their farm without being spotted?’ Trent asked.
‘About a quarter of a mile. The road up Glendhu only goes to their place.’
‘No other way out?’ Fox asked.
‘On foot, I suppose, up the glen, over the hill.’
Devlin said, ‘We’ve got to allow for one important point. If Cussane did mean to stay with the Mungos, his plans were badly disrupted. Being taken by the Sergeant here, jumping from the train, that gypsy encampment, were not on the agenda. That could have changed his plans.’
‘True,’ Harry Fox said. ‘And there’s the girl too.’
Trent said, ‘They could still be back there in the hills. On the other hand, they’ve got to pass through Larwick to get to the farm if they’re still in that jeep. In a village that size, somebody must have seen it.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ Devlin said and the express started to slow as they came into Dunhill.
‘Danny Malone.’ Hector Mungo poured strong tea into dirty mugs and added milk. ‘A long time since we had Danny here, isn’t it, Angus?’
‘Aye, it is that.’ Angus sat with a glass in his hand, ignoring the other two and staring at Morag who did her best to avoid his gaze.
Cussane was already aware that he had made a big mistake. The service the Mungo brothers had offered people like Danny years before must have been very different from what was available now. He ignored the tea and sat there, one hand on the butt of the Stechkin. He wasn’t sure what his next move should be. The script seemed to be writing itself this time.
‘Actually, we were reading about you just before you arrived.’ Hector Mungo shoved the paper across. ‘No mention of the girl, you see.’
Cussane ignored the paper. ‘There wouldn’t be.’
‘So what can we do for you? You want to hole up here for a while?’
‘Just for the day,’ Cussane said. ‘Then tonight, when it’s dark, one of you can take us south in that old van of yours. Fill it up with stuff from around the farm, hide us in the back.’
Hector nodded gravely. ‘I don’t see why not. Where to? Dumfries?’
‘How far to Carlisle where the motorway begins?’
‘Sixty miles. It’ll cost you though.’
‘How much?’
Hector glanced at Angus and licked dry lips nervously. ‘A thousand. You’re hot, my friend. Very hot.’
Cussane opened his case, took out the wad of banknotes and peeled ten off. He laid them on the table. ‘Five hundred.’