Jack Higgins – Drink With The Devil 1996
Jack Higgins – Drink With The Devil 1996
CHAPTER ONE
RAIN SWEPT IN FROM BELFAST LOUGH, AND AS he turned the corner there was the rattle of small-arms fire somewhere in the darkness of the city center followed by the cramp of an explosion. He didn’t even hesitate but started across the square, a small man, no more than five feet five, in jeans, reefer coat, and peaked cap, a seaman’s duffle bag.hanging from one shoulder.
A sign said Albert Hotel, but it was more a lodging house than anything else, of a type used by sailors, and constructed originally by the simple expedient of knocking three Victorian terrace houses together. The front door stood open, and a s[nall, balding man peered out, a newspaper in one hand.
There Was another explosion in the distance. “Jesus!” he said. “The boys are active tonight.” The small man said from the bottom of the steps,
“I phoned earlier about a room. Keogh is the name.” His voice was more English than anything else, only a hint of the distinctive Belfast accent.
“Ah, yes–Mr. Keogh. Off a boat, are ye?” “Something like that.” “Well, come away in out of the rain and I’ll fix you up.” At that moment, a Land Rover turned the corner followed by another. They were stripped down, three paratroopers crouched behind the driver, hard, young men in red berets and flak jackets, each one carrying a submachine gun. They vanished into the darkness and rain on the other side of the square.
“Jesus!” the old man said again, then went inside and (eogh followed him.
IT WAS , POOR SORT OF A PLACE, A SQUARE HALL with a reception desk and a narrow staircase. The white paint had-y-llowed over the years and the wallpaper was badly faded, damp showing through here and there. : The old man pushed a register across the desk for KeOgh to sign, “RUC regulations. Home address.
Next port Of call. The lot.” “Fine by me.” Keogh quickly filled it in and pushed the register back across the desk.
“Martin Keogh, Wapping, London. I haven’t been to London in years.” “A fine city.” Keogh took out a packet of cigarettes and lit one.
The old man took a room key down from a board.
“At least they don’t have Paras hurtling around the streets armed to the teeth. Crazy that, sitting out in the open, even in the rain. What a target. Suicide if you ask me.” “Not really,” Keogh told him. “It’s an old Para trick developed years ago in Aden. They travel in twos to look after each other, and with no armor in the way they can respond instantly to any attack.” “And how would you be knowing a thing like that?” Keogh shrugged. “Common knowledge, Da. Now can I have my key?” It was then that the old man noticed the eyes which were of no particular color and yet were the coldest he had ever seen, and for some unaccountable reason he knew fear. And at that moment Keogh smiled and his personality changed totally. He reached across and took the key.
“Someone told me there was a decent cafe near here. The Regent?”.
Stratght across the square, to Lurgen “That’s right. ‘
Street. It’s by the old docks.” “I’ll find it,” and Keogh turned and went upstairs.
He found the room easily enough, opened the door, the lock of which had obviously been forced on numerous occasions, and went in. The room was very small and smelled of damp. There was a single bed, a hanging cupboard, and a chair. There was a washbasin in the corner, but no toilet. There wasn’t even a telephone. Still, with any luck, it would only be for the one night. He put his duffle bag on the bed, opened it. There was a toilet bag, spare shirts, some books. He pulled them to one side and prized up the thick cardboard base of the bag disclosing a Walther PPK pistol, sew eral clips of ammunition, and the new small Carswell silencer. He checked the weapon, loaded it, and screwed the silencer int°place, then he slipped it inside his jeans against the small of his. back.