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I grabbed his hand and held it tight. Horatio had his claws fixed into my side, and had drawn blood, I noticed. ‘Nothing. Is it time to go?’
‘Yes. But take your time. Alasdair’s got the kettle on.’
I arched my back, removed my cat from my flank, and prepared to go into battle.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Now does my object gather to a head.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, THE TEMPEST, ACT 5, SCENE 1
We began by sitting around my kitchen table and exchanging glances. I looked at Alasdair. The haunted look was back in his light blue eyes, I noticed. But there was something else: a steely determination to complete his mission. I had changed into loose blue cotton trousers and a pale grey shirt, and had my Modesty Scarf tied around my hair. I also wore boots with thick woollen socks. If we had to run, I wanted proper footwear. Just in case. Alasdair was wearing a black tracksuit. I looked questioningly at his clothes, and he grinned.
‘Corinna, back in Afghanistan, this would be a mild spring day. On the sun-baked plains it gets well over forty degrees in midsummer.’ He raised his hands in dismissal. ‘And of course in midwinter it’s twenty below. I think we may need to run. I’m dressed for it.’ He indicated a pair of runners under the table.
Then I looked at Daniel, resplendent in well-worn jeans and grubby white T-shirt. Anything less like the resplendent figure he would have cut as the representative of El Dorado, that well-known and respected firm of real estate agents, would be difficult to imagine. He too was wearing runners. Old ones, with broken shoelaces retied in knots. Daniel followed my gaze and grinned, his adorable agate eyes flashing at me in that way that makes me go weak at the knees.
‘Yes, I’m expecting to run as well. Are you up for that?’
‘In these boots, yes. The heels have a built-in roll and I can raise quite a respectable sprint in them. Not to mention kicking the crap out of anyone who gets in my way,’ I added vindictively.
Alasdair laughed softly. I thought I caught a flavour of heather-clad hillsides in the sound. ‘Now, just so you know before we set out, I’m no’ armed, Corinna. I don’t know if you’re thinkin’ mebbe I’m goin’ tae gae in wi’ guns blazing like a Spaghetti Western. I want Geordie back, sure. But ah’ve no commission tae carry firearms here. And I won’t. Just because.’
‘But I have,’ said Daniel. ‘And I am armed with both a gun and a licence to carry it. But I will only use my weapon if the alternative is one of us dying.’
‘All right. And we really are going to drive to their back gate and see if we can burgle the joint?’ Somehow this didn’t seem like such a cunning plan, now we had come to it.
‘That’s pretty much the idea. We aren’t even going to drive past the front of the house. I don’t want any warning of our advent at all. Narek tells me that Geordie is chained up outside the back door. They bought him a doghouse from Bunnings, apparently.’
‘That’s very thoughtful,’ Alasdair commented. ‘Now I do have one more question, Daniel. Are you certain we’re going tae the right house? We don’t want any Gallipoli landings here.’
‘Narek swears it is, and I believe him. And just to be sure, I’ve been to see Uncle Solly and his team. They have excellent TV footage of the back of the house. There’s a combination lock and that’s it, as far as we can see. They’ve seen the gate opening and shutting, and men going out the back for a smoke. Apparently Uncle Tigran gave up smoking last year and he takes a dim view of his employees indulging in a habit he has renounced.’
‘Do they keep tabs on all of our organised crime figures?’ I wondered aloud.
Daniel laughed, took my hand and squeezed it.
‘No. Only those whose doings may impact upon our people. We’re not sure about the Azeris. None of the other Muslim gangs are game to take us on. They fear the Sword of the Lord and of Gideon.’ He grinned. His teeth, I swear, shone. ‘But these Armenians are very new in town. We aren’t sure what they want, and what they’re intending to do. This is a new feud. And we won’t do anything until we know more.’ Daniel stood up. ‘All right. Ready?’
Alasdair and I exchanged glances. ‘As ready as we’ll ever be.’
We slunk out of Insula with as much surreptitiousness as we could manage. I hadn’t even asked Daniel how we were going to get to Kilmarnock, despite the fact he has no car and doesn’t drive. I thought I had a pretty good idea.
We walked west along Flinders Lane and waited at Market Street. The sun was getting its eye in, blazing down between the skyscrapers. And the wind was stirring: a pollen-infested northerly smelling of drought and heartbreak. I leant against the lone plane tree that gamely clung onto the corner and looked at Daniel. ‘Are we waiting for Timbo?’
He took out his phone and scanned it. ‘Yes, he’ll be here in about thirty seconds. I’m not sure if we’re being watched, but I thought a little walk might be a good start. Just to stretch our legs and make things harder for any putative spies.’ I took his arm and inhaled the scent of Daniel. I hadn’t felt this keyed up for a long time. Deep breaths, Corinna. You can do this.
A light blue sedan of some sort drew up next to us. I watched it move, but it was as silent as a wraith. I gave Daniel a questioning glance. ‘I’ve got us a Prius today. It seemed like a good idea.’
I agreed with him, and climbed into the back seat with Daniel. Alasdair joined Timbo in the front seat and we slipped away northwards. I heard the petrol motor kick in softly. My clever Daniel! Approaching the back gate of a gang HQ in a silent car sounded like a brilliant idea to me.
‘So you like the Prius, Timbo?’ my beloved enquired.
Timbo turned his head for a moment and gave us a beatific smile before returning to the matter in hand. As ever with Timbo, discarded food wrappers draped themselves around the dashboard. He seemed to be eating Cheezels at present. Smudges the colour of an unsuccessful spray-on tan adorned his thick lips. His eyes were more bovine than ever. They contrasted agreeably with his sumo wrestler’s body. And he remained a man of fewer words than almost anybody I had ever met. Just what you need in a getaway car driver.
We drove through the People’s Republic of Moreland in companionable silence. As we crossed Bell Street (the famous hipster-proof fence) I realised that Alasdair had begun to sing softly under his breath. I gathered he was singing ‘Oliver’s Army’, and I joined in. The two of us sang our way right to the end. Daniel clutched my hand tightly. I don’t think Elvis Costello was on his adolescent playlist.
Alasdair turned in his seat and gave me a quick smile.
‘He wrote that for us, you know,’ he confided. ‘All us British squaddies.’
I nodded. Oliver’s Army, all of them. Young men without prospects except as members of Her Majesty’s armed forces. Cannon fodder to be fed into whatever wild misadventures idiotic politicians dreamt up for them. I shook my head in anger. But at least that wasn’t true anymore. It costs a lot of money to train a modern soldier. So however crazy the war, soldiers would no longer be needlessly wasted in a tactical sense. The strategy of confusing the enemy by hitting them under cover of broad daylight at their strongest point had perished in the First World War, along with several millions of luckless squaddies like Alasdair. And Daniel.
I held my breath. Because that was what we were doing right now. All except for the frontal assault. I watched the sun-struck suburbs go by through the tinted window. I wondered what life would be like there among the cream brick boxes. I was grateful I would never find out. How many Philomelas had tried to escape and fallen back into the gravity well?
Daniel whispered in my ear, ‘Not long now, ketschele. The plan is simple. We go in, grab Geordie and run for it. We don’t care about them.’ He tapped Timbo lightly on the shoulder. ‘When we turn off the main road, switch over to the electric motor. It should have enough charge to get us there.’
Timbo inclined his chin and kept heading north. Then we turned west and drove through a wilderland of cream-brick mansions with gleaming fake
marble porticos. Depressed dry grasses rattled mournfully on the nature strips and filled empty blocks between them. For Sale signs hung from the front fences. No wonder people wanted to build mansions in these godforsaken plains. Playing outside was not going to be much fun for children hereabouts.
‘Do you think Uncle Tigran’s people killed Philomela’s sister?’ I whispered in his ear.
‘I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll leave all that for the police. I’m just hoping we don’t run into Letty White. If she’s staking out the place she will not be a happy policeperson at all. All right, Timbo. Slow down, if you would. I want to keep an eye out for plainclothes cops.’
Our car went into stealth mode and we cruised along a quiet road. Daniel looked from side to side, looking for parked cars with passengers. ‘There’s one car of interest. The driver is looking at his phone. But that could be just about anybody these days. I think we’ll risk it. Let us out here, Timbo. Stop a few doors down, if you would, and be ready for us.’ He turned to me. ‘Remember: we do this in silence. Alasdair and I will give you hand signals. That’s all we’ll need. There may be microphones.’
We got out of the car and it purred off down the street. There was nobody visible outside. I looked with sinking heart at the high cream brick wall of 47 Anzac Grove. It was at least three metres tall, with no footholds or handholds visible. The top was rounded off, presumably to discourage visitors not already put off by the forbidding keep. To our left was a huge garage. Daniel ran to it, tried to open it, and returned at once, shaking his head. We looked instead at tall, narrow steel door. A combination lock was set into it. Daniel’s lips pursed, and he pointed at a small plaque inlaid in the surface. A slanting diagonal line, and above it three vertical lines. My eyes widened. Was that the spear of Longinus and the three nails of Christ?
Daniel nodded to me, and looked at Alasdair with his hands upraised.
Alasdair waved us back and addressed the lock. I noticed he was wearing thin cotton gloves. He twiddled with the dial for a moment, and the door began to open. Did they teach safe-cracking in the British Army? I wondered. Then I noticed that the door was opening by itself; it was a hydraulic door.
Next to me, Daniel stiffened. He exchanged a tense look with Alasdair, who shrugged.
When the opening was wide enough Alasdair slipped inside. Daniel followed him, and so did I. I wasn’t going to be left out in the street by myself.
We found ourselves in a large yard, open to the sky except for the enormous carport. Along the left fence there were rows of enormous amphorae which might once have contained enough wine for a Roman orgy, but now contained a bright profusion of flowering shrubs. I vaguely noticed three enormous cars and some large sheds along the right-hand wall, but really I only had eyes for the back of the two-storey house. Next to a forbidding steel door was a dog kennel. And crouched inside it, with his head on the concrete, was a smallish spotted dog. There were no humans in sight.
The dog lifted his head at once, muzzle pointed.
‘Geordie! Tiugainn!’ Alasdair’s voice was low-pitched, but clear. I had heard once that whispering was far more perilous than low-pitched speech.
The dog tried to move, and whined softly.
‘Isd thu!’ Alasdair turned to look at Daniel and shook his head. I understood. He was chained up, and Alasdair would have to go and untie him. Meanwhile, we could probably be seen from the back windows of the house.
My heart began to pound, and Daniel backed me around the corner of one of the sheds. He placed his finger on my lips. I realised I was shaking all over. Then I looked at the door through which we had come and gaped. It was closing, all by itself. I pointed. Daniel flung himself towards the portal and tried to hold it open, but it was powered by some motor far stronger than he was. The lock clicked shut with terrible finality.
Suddenly Alasdair was with us, carrying Geordie in his arms and murmuring Gàidhlig endearments into his fur. Geordie’s tail was pounding against Alasdair’s thigh, and he whimpered again. Then his body went as stiff as a board, and his nose was pointing directly at the house. ‘Oh, shite,’ said Alasdair. His face had gone the colour of ash. Even our serving soldier was scared. My blood turned to ice in my arteries. Alasdair produced his dog-sling from somewhere inside his clothes and slipped his faithful companion into it. Geordie nuzzled him and whimpered again.
And then came the sound of shouting from the front of the house, followed in quick succession by gunfire.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Knowing I lov’d my books, he furnished me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, THE TEMPEST, ACT 1, SCENE 2
I clutched Meroe’s Ring of Otherworlds tightly in my fist. The noise was deafening, and the smell like the fires of hell. Why had I never known that guns were so loud? I noted with gratitude that I was being jammed up against the aluminium shed wall, with Alasdair and Daniel between me and harm. Daniel had his gun out. It was larger than I was expecting: a jet-black handgun of some make or other. I didn’t care. He was covering the narrow angle from which any attack would come. The guns kept on firing, accompanied by shouts that sounded like orders being given. I shrank still further and tried, for the first time in my life, to think slim thoughts.
The back door to the house was flung open. We couldn’t see it, but we could hear it. People were running along the concrete. They would be upon us in seconds. I felt Daniel tense. Alasdair had his fists clenched, ready for combat.
And there they were. At least a dozen of them, right in front of us, for a long moment. But they were not at all what I was expecting. Mothers with children first, a couple of aged uncles, young boys and impressively elderly grandmas. I saw Daniel’s gun disappear into his holster. One of the boys was holding a cat carrier, from which outraged yowling emanated. Another boy had, I swear, a large frill-necked lizard in his arms. There were little girls in pinafores carrying teddy bears nearly as big as they were. A middle-aged mum was pulling at the arm of a small girl carrying a brown, flop-eared bunny in her arms. Car doors were yanked open, and deep-voiced engines roared into throaty life.
Last of all came what had to be the family matriarch. She paused for a moment, looked straight at us, and lifted up her black walking stick. I saw Alasdair raise both his hands, palm outwards, towards her. The woman saw Geordie, now secure in the sling around Alasdair’s neck, and grinned. Her front teeth flashed golden, and her black eyes took us all in. Then she nodded, and joined the others in the vast carport, footfalls echoing in the roomy cavern.
Car doors slammed shut, and there was a grinding of hydraulic gears as the immense garage door began to open. The shooting was still going on, but there was less of it. Tyres screeched, and the cars exited the premises at speed. The grinding sound of the garage door began again. Alasdair and Geordie exchanged glances, and nodded. Daniel gripped my arm tight, and impelled me through the closing portal. Alasdair was doing something behind us, but I did not know what. I risked a quick look back and saw him fling himself onto the ground and roll under the door. I hoped Geordie wouldn’t be squashed, but I assumed this was a manoeuvre long-practised on Afghanistan’s plains.
The gate boomed shut and we raced towards Timbo and safety. I have not run, as such, since the humiliations of my boarding school. But I was running now. Terror seemed to have filled my limbs with liquid fire. And when we were three houses away, the world erupted in flame and thunder.
My ears rang as though I had been clubbed by a lead-filled shillelagh. I found myself lying flat on the footpath, with Daniel lying on top of me and covering my body with his own. It felt like a tidal wave of molten lava had rolled over us. The aftershock of the explosion was still echoing, or perhaps I was just imagining it.
I slowly lifted my head off the concrete. I was afraid it might come off. Cautiously, I opened my eyes. Daniel’s face was covered in soot. I touched my finger to my lips and began to dab at the black ma
rks. He grinned and did the same to me. ‘Are you all right, ketschele?’ he enquired.
‘Apart from the regiment of dwarves using my head as an anvil, yes.’
‘Come on, you two!’ That was Alasdair, looming above us and tugging at Daniel’s arm. ‘No time for that now!’
I staggered to my feet with Daniel’s strong arms around my waist and under my shoulder. We flung ourselves into the Prius and sat, stunned. Police sirens were sounding, not far away. A stentorian voice with a megaphone was issuing instructions, stage left. Clearly there was still a great deal happening in whatever was left of the Petrosians’ HQ. But all this was more or less at the periphery of our thoughts, because standing right in front of the car, one accusing arm stretched out with fingers spread, was Letty White.
‘Give me the keys, Timbo,’ she instructed through the open driver’s window, and he handed them over without a word.
She stowed them away in her trouser pocket, opened the rear door and raked me with a baleful glare. ‘You’re not going anywhere just yet.’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘What did I tell you? I said don’t go anywhere near these people! I distinctly felt my lips move, and I am certain that an unambiguous instruction to stay right away from here left my vocal cords and reached your ears. We’ve been staking out this place for quite a while now. Obstructing the police is a serious offence. And you!’ She glared at Daniel and shook her head again. ‘I am, regrettably, all too familiar with tripping over Daniel Cohen, private investigator, in the course of my duties. But what possessed you to bring Corinna into a war zone?’
‘She volunteered.’ My beloved had his soothing voice on now: like dark honey poured over a sore throat. ‘Come on, Letty. She and I are partners. You know that. And we didn’t obstruct the police.’
‘That’s a debatable point, Daniel. I am strongly tempted to handcuff the lot of you and bring you in for questioning. But what I really want to know is: what the bloody hell are you doing here, of all places? Are you completely out of your minds?’