‘John,’ said Kyle, ‘how are things at home?’ And he also asked: What’s happening down on the ranch, in Devon?
‘Oh, well, you know. . .‘ Grieve’s answer sounded iffy. ‘Can you explain?’ What’s up? But careful how you answer.
‘Well, see, it’s young YB,’ came back the answer. ‘It seems he’s cleverer than we allowed. I mean, he’s inquisitive, you know? Sees and hears too much for his own good.’
‘Well we must give him credit for it,’ Kyle tried to sound casual while, in his head, he added urgently: You mean he’s talented? Telepathy? –
‘I suppose so,’ answered Grieve, meaning probably.
Jesus Christ! Is he on to us? ‘Anyway, we’ve had tough customers before,’ said Kyle. ‘And our salesmen are in possession of the full brief. . .‘ How are they armed?
‘Well, yes, they have the standard kit,’ said Grieve.
‘Still, it’s a bit leery, I’ll tell you! Set his dog on one of our blokes! No harm done, though. As it happens it was old DC — and you know how wary he is! No harm will come to that one.’
Darcy Clarke? Thank God! Kyle breathed more easily. Out loud he said, ‘Look, John, you’d better read my file on our silent partner. You know, from eight months ago?’ The first Keogh manifestation. ‘Our blokes might well need all the help they can get. And I really don’t think that in this case standard kit is sufficient. It’s something I should have thought of before, except I didn’t anticipate young YB’s foxiness.’ 9mm automatics might not stop him
— or any of the others in that house. But there’s a description in the Harry Keogh file of something that will —I think. Get the squad armed with crossbows!
‘Just as you say, Alec, I’ll look into it at once,’ said Grieve, no sign of surprise in his voice. ‘And how are things with you?’
‘Oh, not bad. We’re thinking of moving up into the mountains — tonight, actually.’ We’re off to Romania with Krakovitch. He’s OK — I hope! As soon as I’ve got anything definite I’ll get back to you. Then maybe you’ll be able to move in on Bodescu. But not until we know all there is to know about what we’re up against.
‘Lucky you!’ said Grieve. ‘The mountains, eh? Beautiful at this time of year. Ah, well, some of us must work. Do drop me a card, now, won’t you? And do take care.’
‘Same goes for you,’ Kyle spoke light and easy, but his thoughts were sharp with concern. For God’s sake make sure those lads down in Devon are on the ball! If anything were to happen, I —‘— Oh, we’ll do our best to keep out of trouble,’ Grieve cut him off. It was his way of saying, ‘Look, we can only do as much as we can do.’
‘OK, I’ll be in touch.’ Good luck. And then he had broken the connection
For a long time he’d stood in his room looking at the telephone and chewing his lip. Things were warming up and Alec Kyle knew it. And when Quint came in from the room next door where he’d been taking a nap .
one look at his face told Kyle that he was right. Quint looked rough round the edges, suddenly more than a little haggard.
He tapped his temple. ‘Things are starting to jump,’ he said. ‘In here.’
Kyle nodded. ‘I know,’ he answered. ‘I’ve a feeling they’re starting to jump all over the place. .
In his tiny room in what had once been Harry Keogh’s Hartlepool flat, whose window looked out over a graveyard, Harry Junior was falling asleep. His mother, Brenda Keogh, shushed the baby and lulled him with soft humming sounds. He was only five weeks old, but he was clever. There were lots of things happening in the world, and he wanted in on them. He was going to make very hard work of growing up, because he wanted to be there now. She could feel it in him: his mind was like a sponge, soaking up new sensations, new impressions, thirsting to know, gazing out of his father’s eyes and striving to envelop the whole wide world.