Allan shrugged. ‘The killer doesn’t shoot innocent bystanders, or at least he hasn’t so far.’
‘There was the doorman at the Harrods delivery entrance,’ Cramer pointed out.
‘He was wearing a uniform. And he was part of the security staff.’
‘Yeah, but he wasn’t armed.’
Allan rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. ‘We’ll make sure she stays in the background whenever you’re vulnerable. I wouldn’t worry, Mike. This guy doesn’t care about witnesses. He’s totally focused on the target and any bodyguards. That’s you, me and Martin. I’d be more concerned about yourself than her.’ Allan turned to face the targets.
Cramer followed his example and flicked the safety off. ‘Yeah, I know you’re right, but I just worry about her.’
‘He’s got the hots for her, that’s all,’ said Martin.
‘Fuck you,’ said Cramer.
‘Whatever turns you on,’ said Martin, grinning.
‘When you’re ready, ladies,’ said Allan. The three men began firing and the air was soon full of bitter cordite fumes as streams of empty cartridges rattled onto the floor. Cramer fought to concentrate on the paper targets, but he couldn’t block Su-ming out of his mind. Martin was wrong, Cramer wasn’t in the least bit sexually attracted to Vander Mayer’s assistant. And even if he was, there was nothing he could do about it; setting aside his medical condition, he was embarking on a mission which was more than likely to end in his own death. Romance was the last thing on his mind. His clip emptied a fraction of a second after Allan finished shooting and he stared at the cardboard cutout as Martin continued to fire with his machine pistol. Three of Cramer’s shots had gone wide.
Dermott Lynch drove down the M4, keeping the GTI below 70mph. He was keen to get as far as possible from London but he knew it would be reckless to exceed the speed limit, especially as he still had a loaded gun tucked into the back of his trousers. They stopped at a petrol station near Windsor and while Lynch topped up the tank, Marie telephoned her office and told them that she had flu and wouldn’t be in for a few days.
‘Where in Wales are we going?’ Marie asked as she settled back in her seat.
‘Near Swansea,’ said Lynch. ‘Cramer flew by helicopter from a place called Howth, just north of Dublin, and I know where it landed. I’ve got the map reference.’
‘How did you manage that?’
‘Best you don’t know,’ said Lynch.
‘You can trust me, Dermott.’ She patted his leg, then squeezed him just above the knee.
‘It’s not a matter of trust. It’s for your own good. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.’ Marie took her hand away from his leg. She looked out of the passenger window and made a soft tutting noise. Lynch smiled. ‘Come on, love. Don’t sulk.’
‘I’m not sulking,’ she said, but she still wouldn’t look at him.
Lynch tapped the steering wheel. A red Audi screamed past in the outside lane. It must have been doing more than a hundred and ten miles an hour. Lynch shook his head. The guy was just asking to be picked up. He looked across as Marie. She pouted and shrugged her shoulders. Lynch chuckled. ‘Marie, love, this is serious.’
‘I know that.’
‘You’re a civilian. You’re not involved. You’re not a player.’
Her eyes blazed. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’
‘Against my better judgement.’
She turned away again. Her breath fogged up the window and she rubbed it with her sleeve.
Lynch drove in silence for a while as tight-lipped young men in shirt sleeves whizzed by in company cars. ‘You were never a volunteer, were you?’ he asked eventually.
‘Don’t you know?’
‘Why would I know?’ She shrugged, but still didn’t look at him. ‘Marie, the IRA isn’t a series of levels like a regular army. It used to be, but the organisation was too vulnerable to infiltration. Now it’s made up of small cells, usually just four people. Of those four, only one will have contact with another cell. The other three only know the members of their own cell. It’s much safer that way. If one of them is caught, it restricts the numbers they can inform on.’
‘Why would they talk?’
Lynch snorted softly. ‘Marie, love, sooner or later virtually everyone talks. Anyway, that’s not my point.’
‘I’m not a child, Dermott.’
‘I know you’re not a child. I’m just trying to explain why I don’t want to tell you how I know where Cramer went. If I tell you who told me, he becomes twice as vulnerable. When he gave me the information, he put himself at risk and I have to respect that. If I tell you, that risk is doubled. It doesn’t matter how much I trust you, it doesn’t matter how reliable you are, it’s just a matter of minimising risk.’
Marie nodded thoughtfully. She turned to look at him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You’re right.’ She put her hand back on his leg. They drove in silence for a while. Occasionally Marie absent-mindedly scratched Lynch’s leg with a fingernail. ‘This cell system, is that still in operation?’ she asked.
‘One hundred per cent,’ said Lynch. ‘Same as it ever was.’
‘But I thought that after the ceasefire the IRA was winding down.’
Lynch snorted dismissively. ‘The ceasefire is temporary, never forget that,’ he said. ‘It lasts only for as long as Sinn Fein makes progress towards its political aims. The organisation is as well-organised and well-armed as it ever was. Don’t let the rhetoric fool you, love. The hard men on the Army Council would love to pick up their guns again.’
‘Do you think that will happen?’
Lynch nodded grimly. ‘Yeah, love. I’m afraid I do. I’m in a minority, but I believe that it’s only a matter of time before the violence starts again.’
Cramer was in his room, sitting on the bed and rereading Jackman’s report, when there was a timid knock on the door. ‘Come in,’ he said, placing the thick plastic-bound file on the pillow.
It was Su-ming, carrying a tea tray. ‘Mrs Elliott said you didn’t eat lunch,’ she said.
‘Yeah, I wasn’t hungry.’
She put the tray down on the bed next to him. It contained a small bowl of white rice, and another bowl with thin strips of white flesh and bean sprouts. ‘It’s fish,’ she said. ‘Sea bass.’
‘Thanks.’ He picked up the chopsticks and held them as best he could. One of them spun out of his hand and she retrieved it from the floor. Cramer pulled a face. ‘It’s not as easy as it looks,’ he said.
‘It takes practice,’ she agreed. ‘But you’re getting better.’
Cramer smiled as he recalled Allan saying pretty much the same thing to him, albeit under different circumstances. He tried again, with more success this time. ‘So you can speak Russian, huh?’
‘Yes.’
‘What other languages can you speak?’
‘Mandarin Chinese. Cantonese. Thai. Vietnamese. French. German.’ She didn’t appear to take pride in the number of languages she spoke, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
‘That’s pretty impressive.’
She shrugged dismissively. ‘And English, of course.’