Cigarettes, booze, diamonds from Holland. Anything.” “Not qhite,” Dillon told her. “Look what it says.
No drug connection, no prostitution, no strip clubs.” He sat back. “What.we’ve got here is an old-fashioned gangster. He probabl objects tO men who swear in front of women.” “He’s still a gangster, Dillon, suspected of killing other gangsters.” “And where’s the harm in that if they leave the civilians alone? Let’s see his picture.” It rolled around and Dillon studied the fleshy face intently. “Just as I expected. Fair enough.” “Well he looks like Bill Sykes to me,” Hannah said.
“Known associates?” “Billy Salter, age twenty-five, his nephew.” The information came up on the screen again. “Six
months for assault, another six months for assault,
twelve months for affray.”
“A hot-tempered lad.”
“And these two, Joe Baxter and Sam Hall, more
of the same, Dillon. A very unsavory bunch.” “Who might just suit my purposes.” “Except for one thing.” “And what would that be?”
“The River Police had a tip-off. Salter and his gang will be down river tonight at nine in one of his pleasure boats, the River Queen. There’s a Dutch boat coming in called the Amsterdam. The River Queen will be at anchor off Harley Dock. As the Amsterdam goes past, one of the stewards throws a package acrosS. Uncut diamonds. Two hundred thousand pounds.”
“And the River Police waiting to pounce?”
“Not at all. They’ll be waiting for the River Queen to berth at Cable Wharfe by Salter’s pub, the Dark Man, at Wapping. They’ll pick him up there.”
“What a shame. It could have been such a lovely relationship.”
“Anything else I can do for you?” Hannah Bern-stein demanded.
“Not really. I can see you’ve shafted me pretty thoroughly and taken pleasure in it. I’ll just go away and think again.” AT EIGHT-THIRTY, DILLON WAS WAITING ON ‘Harley Dock in an ancient and inconspicuous Toyota van he had borrowed from the vehicle pool at the x56 Ministry of Defence. He was already wearing a black · diving suit, the cowl up over his head. Occasionally a boat passed on the river and he sat behind the wheel of the Toyota and watched through a pair of infrared night glasses as the River Queen arrived and anchored.
There was movement on deck, two men and two more on the upper deck wheelhouse.
He waited and then there was a noise of engines down river and the Amsterdam appeared, a medium-sized freighter. With his night glasses, he could actually see the man at the rail and the bundle he hurled.
It landed on the pleasure boat’s canopy.
The freighter moved on and Dillon was already clamping a tank to his inflatable. He picked up his fins, moved to the edge of the dock, and pulled them on. Then lie pulled on his mask, reached for his mouthpiece, and jumped.
HE SURFACED B THE ANCHOR LINE, PULLED OFF his inflatable and the tank, then.:!lis fins, and fastened them to the line. He waited for a moment, then went up hand-over-hand.
He went in through the anchor chain port and crouched on deck, listening. There was the sound of laughter coming from the deck cabin and he went forward, stood and peered through a port hole. Salter was there, his nephew Billy, Baxter, aad Hall. Salter was cutting open a yellow life jacket at the table. He took out the cloth bundle.
“Two hundred grand.” Dillon unzipped his diving suit and took out the silenced Walther. He went to the door, paused, then
threw it open and stepped inside.
“God bless all here.”
There was silence, the four of them grouped around the table like some tableau, Harry Salter and his nephew seated, Baxter and Hall standing, beer glasses in their hands.
Salter said, “And what’s your game, then?” “Open the bundle.”
“I’m fucked if I will. I don’t think you’ve got the bottle to use that thing.”
Dillon fired on the instant, shattering the whiskey glass on the table at Salter’s right hand, doing the same, thing to the beer glass Baxter was holding. Billy Salter cried out sharply as a jagged splinter of glass cut his right cheek.
There was silence and so then Dillon said, ‘ ‘More?