‘A pleasure, Jack.’ Eric slipped his revolver into his pocket, went and stood behind Mary and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Now you be a good girl.’
He kissed her neck and she squirmed in disgust. ‘Stop it!’
Ryan took a step forward. ‘Leave her alone.’
Carver tapped him with the barrel of the Browning. ‘I give the orders here, so shut your face. Where is he?’
‘Where’s who?’ Ryan demanded.
‘The other mick. The one who came dancing at the Astoria with the kid here. The clever little bastard who shot half my brother’s ear off.’
It was Mary who answered defiantly, ‘You’re too late, they’ve gone.’
‘Is that a fact?’ Carver said to Eric, ‘Leave her. Check upstairs and make sure you have your shooter in your hand.’
Eric went out and Carver gestured at the other chair. ‘Sit,’ he ordered Ryan. The Irishman did as he was told and Carver lit a cigarette. ‘She didn’t say we’d missed him, she said we’d missed them.’
‘So what?’ Ryan said.
‘So who was that pal of yours and who’s he mixed up with? I want to know and you’re going to tell me.’
‘Don’t say a word, Uncle Michael,’ Mary cried.
‘Not me, girl.’
Carver hit him across the side of the face with the Browning and Ryan ‘went over backwards in the chair. As Mary screamed again Carver said, ‘You should have stayed back home in the bogs where you belong, you and your mate.’
Eric came back at that moment. ‘Here, what have I missed?’
‘Just teaching him his manners. Anything?’
‘Not a sausage. There was a major’s uniform in one of the bedrooms.’
‘Is that a fact?’ Carver turned back to Ryan who was wiping blood from his face. ‘All right, I haven’t got all night.’
‘Go stuff yourself.’
‘A hard man, eh? Watch the girl, Eric.’
Eric moved behind her, pulled her from the chair, his arms about her waist. ‘You like that don’t you? They all do.’
She moaned, trying to get away and Carver picked up the poker from the hearth and put it into the fire. ‘All right, hard man, we’ll see how you like this. Either you tell me what I want to know or I put this, once it’s nice and hot, to your niece’s face. Not that she’s much in the looks department, but this would really finish her off.’
Mary tried to move, but Eric held her, laughing. Ryan said, ‘You bastard.’
‘It’s been said before,’ Carver told him, ‘but it ain’t true. Slur on my old lady, that.’
He took the poker out. It was white hot. He put it to the table top and the dry wood burst into flame.
Then he moved towards Mary and the girl screamed in terror.
It was the scream which did it and Ryan cried out, ‘All right, I’ll tell you.’
‘Okay,’ Carver said. ‘His name.’
‘Devlin _ Liam Devlin.’
‘IRA? Am I right?’
‘In a way.’
‘Who was with him?’ Ryan hesitated and Carver turned and touched the girl’s woollen cardigan so that it smouldered. ‘I ain’t kidding, friend.’
‘He was doing a job for the Germans. Breaking out a prisoner they had here in London.’
‘And where is he now?’
‘Driven off to a place near Romney. He’s going to be picked up by a plane.’
‘In this fog? He’ll be bleeding lucky. What’s this place they’re going to?’ Ryan hesitated and Carver touched the poker to the girl’s hair. The stench of burning was terrible and she screamed again.
Ryan broke completely. He was a good man, but it was impossible to accept what was happening. ‘Like I said, a place near Romney.’
‘Don’t, Uncle Michael,’ Mary cried.
‘A village called Charbury. Shaw Place is the house.’
‘Marvellous.’ Carver put the poker down on the hearth. ‘That wasn’t too bad, was it?’ He turned to Eric, ‘Fancy a little drive down to the country?’
‘I don’t mind, Jack.’ Eric kissed her on the neck again. ‘As long as I can have ten minutes upstairs with this little madam before we go.’
She cried out in terror and revulsion, reached back and clawed his face. Eric released her with a howl of pain, then, as he turned, slapped her. She backed away as he advanced on her slowly, reached behind her and managed to get the kitchen door open. He grabbed at her, she kicked out at him then staggered back across the terrace against the wall. There was an ugly snapping sound as it gave way and she disappeared into darkness.