“Come off it, Hannah. Ferguson does things to suit himself all the time. What about that Lithuanian bastard, Platoff, the other month? If ever a man deserved to be shot it was him, but he was more useful to us than the other people, so Ferguson did a deal and, as I remember, you brokered it.” She glared at him. “Damn you, Dillon.” “Sure and you look lovely when you’re angry.” The waiter approached atthat moment with their food. “Eat up like a good girl.” “Dillon, you are a sexist pig.” “And you are a nice Jewish girl who should be having babies and making her husband’s life miserable instead of shooting pele on behalf of Scotland .% Yard.” She laughed, in spite of herself. “This is lovely.
So tell me how you intend to do it.” “The river. I’ll swim in.” “But the current there can be ferocious with the tide running. It’s suicide, Dillon. You mustn’t.” “Yes, you’re right. That’s wOy the Terrace is a weak spot in the security system:” “But how can you hope to get away with it?” “Difficult, but not impossible,” and he explained.
THE RIVER QUEEN WAS STILL TIED UP AT CABLE Wharfe when Dillon turned up in the Toyota at eleven o’clock that evening. The pub was just closing and he sat there watching the last customers emerge and walk away toward Wapping High Street. The barmaid stood at the door talking to Billy. She dosed the door and he crossed to the boat.
Dillon got out of the Toyota. “Good man yourself, Billy, could you be giving me a hand?”
Billy looked at him, a kind of reluctant admiration on his face. “You know you’re mad, don’t you? I mean, my uncle’s told me what you’re up to. Crazy.
For one thing, you won’t even get into the Terrace.
The current’s real murder out there.”
· “If I don’t get back you can sell the Toyota. My hand on it.” He held it out and Billy shook it instinctively.
?
“Mad bastard. Okay, what have we got here?” and he openeitrihe rear door of the van. IN THE SALOON; DILLON LAID OUT HIS GEAR watched by Salter and the other three. There was his heavy nylon diving suit with hood, nylon socks, and gloves.
“You’re going to need that bleeding lot,” Salter
told him. “That water’s bloody cold tonight.”
“I never thought it wouldn’t be.”
Dillon laid out his fins and clipped the air tank he’d brought to the inflatable. He checked his weight belt, then opened a hang bag and took out a small Halogen lamp and a waterproof purse. “You won’t need that lamp,” Salter said. “I’ve passed the Terrace regUlarly in the early hours and they leave that row of Victorian lamps on. Even if you get there, Dillon, you could get done. They must have security guards prowling. One glimpse and you’ve had it.” “Yes, well I know that.” Dillon opened the waterproof pouch and checked the contents.
“And what’s that?” “Picldocks. I need to get into one of the store~ rooms, as I told you, to spend the rest of the night.” Salter shook his head. “And you know how to use those things.” He shook his head. “No, don’t answer that. With that accent of yours, are you sure you’re not going to shoot the Prime Minister?” ‘Perish the thought.” Dillon unzipped a water proof bag and checked the contents.
“And what have you got there?” Salter asked. “White shirt, bow e, nice white jacket, black slacks and she’s.” Itlon smiled. “After all, I am supposed to be a waiter.” He zipped the bag up again and Billy fell about laughing. “Dillon, I like you, I really do. You’re crazy, you don’t give a stuff, just like me.” “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Dillon stood up and looked down at his gear. “That’s it, theng’ He turned. “I’m in your hands aow, Harry.” “All right, my old son, let’s go over it.”
THERE WAS A VERY LARGE SCALE MAp ON THE table and they all gathered round it. “Here we go. House of Commons, Embankment opposite, and there’s Westminster Bridge. Now I’m telling you, this is one of the worst times of the year. A very high tide, turning around three o’clock in the morrdng, and to float you in I need the tide on the mrn and driving down river, but it’s an abnormal speed. A good five