British are strong on tradition. Certainly you may have the traditional
last cigarette.’ He tossed his cigarette case. ‘Is there anything else
you would like?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I would like to be in Trafalgar Square on New Year’s Eve
in the year 2000.’
‘My regrets,’ he said, and left the room.
I opened the case, stuck a cigarette in my mouth, and patted my pockets
helplessly; then I stooped very slowly to pick up one of the paper
spil s from the hearth. I said to Gregor, ‘I’m just going to light my
cigarette,’ and bent forward to the fire, hoping to God he wouldn’t move
from the door.
I held the spil in my left hand and leaned forward so that my right
hand was screened by my body, and thrust the cylinder into the embers at
the same time as I lifted the naming spil and returned to my seat.
Waving it in a circle to attract Gregor’s eyes from the fire, I applied
it to the tip of the cigarette, drew in smoke and blew a plume in his
direction. I deliberately al owed the flame to burn down so ‘that it
touched my fingers.
‘Ouch!’ I exclaimed, and shook my hand vigorously. Anything to keep him
from looking directly at the fire. It took al the wil power I had to
refrain from glancing at it myself.
The telephone was slammed down and Kennikin came stalking back.
‘Diplomats!’ he said in a scathing voice. ‘As though I don’t have enough
troubles.’ He jerked his thumb at me. ‘All right; on your feet.’
I held up the cigarette. ‘What about this?’
‘You can finish it outside. There’l be just enough . . .’
The blast of the exploding cylinder was deafening in that enclosed area,
and it blew the peat fire al over the room. Because I was expecting it
I was quicker off the mark than anyone else. I ignored the red-hot ember
which stung my neck, but Gregor found he couldn’t do the same with the
ember which alighted on the back of his hand. He gave a yel and dropped
the gun.
I dived across the room, seized the pistol and shot him twice through
the chest. Then I turned to nail Kennikin before he could recover. He
had been beating red-hot bits of peat from his jacket but now he was
turning at the sound of the shots. I lifted the pistol and he grabbed a
table-lamp and threw it at me. I ducked, my shot went wild, and the
table-lamp sailed over my head to hit Ilyich straight in the face as he
opened the door to find out what the hel was going on.
That saved me the trouble of opening it. I shouldered him aside and
stumbled into the hal to find the front door was open. Kennikin had
given me a bad time, and much as I would have liked to have fought it
out with him this was not the time for it. I ran out of the house and
past the Volkswagen which was minus al four wheels, and on the way took
a snap shot at the big Russian to encourage him to keep his head down.
Then I ran into the darkness which, by now, was not as dark as I would
have liked, and took to the countryside fast.
The countryside thereabouts consisted of humpy lava covered by a thick
layer of moss and occasional patches of dwarf birch. At ful speed and
in broad daylight a man might make one mile an hour without breaking an
ankle. I sweated over it, knowing that if I broke my ankle, or as much
as sprained it, I would be picked up easily and probably shot on the spot.
I went about four hundred yards, angling away from the lake shore and up
towards the road, before I stopped. Looking back I saw the windows of
the room in which I had been held; there was a curious flickering and I
saw that the curtains were going up in flames. There were distant shouts
and someone ran in front of the window, but it seemed that no one was
coming after me. I don’t think any of them knew which direction I’d taken.
The view ahead was blocked by the bulk of an old lava flow and I
reckoned the road was on the other side of that. I moved forward again
and began to climb over it. It would be dawn soon and I wanted to get
out of sight of the house.
I went over the top of the lava flow on my bel y and once safely
screened on the other side I got to my feet. Dimly, in the distance, I
could see a straight dark line which could only be the road, and I was
just about to make for it when someone put a stranglehold on my neck and
a hand clamped on my wrist with bone-crushing pressure. ‘Drop the gun!’
came a hoarse whisper in Russian.
I dropped the pistol and was immediately flung away so that I stumbled
and fel . I looked up into the glare of a flashlight which il umined a
pistol held on me. ‘Christ, it’s you!’ said Jack Case.
‘Put that bloody light out,’ I said, and massaged my neck. ‘Where the
hel were you when the whistle blew at Geysir?’
‘I’m sorry about that,’ said Case. ‘He was at the hotel when I arrived.’
‘But you said . . .”
There was a note of exasperation in Case’s voice. ‘Jesus, I couldn’t
tel you he was there. In the mood you were in you’d have slaughtered him.’
‘A fine friend you turned out to be,’ I said bitterly. ‘But this is no
time to go into it. Where’s your car – we can talk later.’
‘Just off the road down there.’ He put away his gun.
I came to a snap decision; this was no time to trust Case or anyone
else. I said, ‘Jack, you can tel Taggart I’l deliver his package to
Reykjavik.’
‘All right, but let’s get out of here.’
I moved close to him. ‘I don’t trust you, Jack,’ I said, and sank three
rigid fingers into his midriff. The air exploded violently from his
lungs and he doubled up. I chopped at the back of his neck and he
col apsed at my feet. Jack and I had always been level on the unarmed
combat mat and I don’t think I could have taken him so easily had he
known what was coming.
In the distance a car started and its engine throbbed. I saw the glow of
headlights to my right and dropped flat. I could hear the car coming up
the spur track towards the road, but it turned away and moved in the
opposite direction – the way I had driven in from Thingvel ir.
When it was out of earshot I reached out and began to search Case’s
pockets. I took his keys and stripped him of his shoulder holster and
pistol. Gregor’s pistol I wiped clean and threw away. Then I went to
look for Case’s car.
It was a Volvo and I found it parked just off the road. The engine
turned over easily at the touch of a button and I moved away without
lights. I would be going al the way around Thingval avatn and it would
be a long way to Laugarvatn, but I certainly didn’t feel like going back.
I got into Laugarvatn just before five in the morning and parked the car
in the drive. As I got out I saw the curtains twitch and Elin ran out
and into my arms before I got to the front door. ‘Alan!’ she said.
‘There’s blood on your face.’
I touched my cheek and felt the caked blood which had oozed from a cut.
It must have happened when the butane cylinder went up. I said, ‘Let’s
go inside.’
In the hal we met Sigurlin. She looked me up and down, then said, ‘Your
jacket’s burnt.’
I glanced at the holes in the fabric. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I was careless,
wasn’t I?’
‘What happened?’ asked Elin urgently.
‘I had . . . I had a talk with Kennikin,’ I said shortly. The reaction
was hitting me and I felt very weary. I had to do something about it
because there was no time to rest. ‘Do you have any coffee?’ I asked
Sigurlin.
Elin gripped my arm. ‘What happened? What did Kenni . . . ?’
‘I’l tel you later.’
Sigurlin said, ‘You look as though you haven’t slept for a week. There’s
a bed upstairs.’
I shook my head. ‘No. I . . . we . . . are moving out.’
She and Elin exchanged glances, and then Sigurlin said practical y, ‘You
can have your coffee, anyway. It’s al ready – we’ve been drinking the
stuff al night. Come into the kitchen.’