The Stealers (22 page)

Crane smiled tightly and said, ‘I'm afraid we're stuck with this guy for a while.'

Daniella looked at Ryan disdainfully, shrugged and got back into the van. At that moment Ryan's mobile rang and he looked at Crane who mouthed silently, ‘Speaker.'

‘Ten o'clock this evening,' Bradley announced. ‘In the car park opposite the Kursaal, by the Aquarium, pull up alongside and I'll settle with you.' Ryan barely had time to acknowledge before Bradley hung up.

Crane checked his watch; it was seven-thirty in the evening and, in spite of a clear sky, dusk was approaching fast. He turned to Ryan, ‘I'll tail you and trap him in the car park.'

‘What are you going to do with me?'

‘Nothing, for the moment, it's that scum Bradley I'm after.'

A slight feeling of relief swept through Ryan, but the
‘for the moment'
part of Crane's sentence stayed in his mind.

There were two hours to wait; Crane and Daniella were hungry so they coerced Ryan to accompany them to the local fish and chip shop for a takeaway and they all ended up eating on the hoof and hanging around in the Transit van. Near the appointed hour, Crane relieved Ryan of his mobile phone. Ryan climbed into the Mondeo and headed towards his meeting place with Bradley. Crane followed at a distance. Throughout the drive to the car park, Ryan felt slightly elated at the prospect of being paid off; he considered he would be in with a chance to get away from both Bradley and Crane. As soon as the money was handed over, he intended to make his excuses and tear away, leaving Bradley to his fate. Ryan checked the rear-view mirror noting that Crane trailed some distance behind in his van.

As they drove along Eastern Esplanade, Crane glanced at Daniella and said, ‘I'm not keen on you being here, things could end up with some bullets flying around. I'd much sooner drop you off somewhere.'

Daniella looked at Crane and smiled, ‘Are you trying to scare me? I'm the one that pulls the bullets out – remember?'

Crane tried to remain solemn and said, ‘Just thought I'd better warn you… '

Daniella cut in, ‘Look, since arriving in this country, I've been kidnapped, drugged, incarcerated in a erm… soundproof room, dined out with the fish and the chips whilst we walk in the company of a man that tried to murder the pair of us and
now
you foresee the possibility of some erm… gunplay – erm, gunplay is correct word, eh?'

She looked at Crane for confirmation and, he nodded at the same time stifling a grin. Daniella continued, ‘Okay then, and as they say in the American movies, bring it on! I'm not going to miss out on anything – I stay with you!'

By now Crane was laughing as she finished with, ‘From past experience – you always know how to give a girl a good time.'

‘Okay, okay, I give in, we stick together.'

They remained quiet for a short while, until they saw Ryan's Mondeo turn into a car park. A moment later Crane pulled into the parking area. He quickly doused the lights on the van, turned off the engine and remained parked near the exit. In the patchy light ahead, he could just make out the shape of Bradley's black BMW as its rear lights were suddenly extinguished. Ryan's Mondeo pulled up close alongside and the shadow of a man briefly covered the gap then disappeared into Bradley's car.

Like a cat waiting for a mouse to emerge, Crane scrutinised the pair of silhouettes – they were contours that were indistinct blurs in a dark corner. Within a few moments, there was the sound of a door slamming which echoed around the area. At the same time, the Mondeo suddenly burst into life and, with headlights gleaming bright, shot like an arrow across the car park, the rear end swaying violently from side to side. Slithering tyres scraped and squealed on the surface until the car reached the exit, turned into the main road, and was absorbed by the mainstream of traffic.

Bearing in mind the fact that Crane had mentioned bullets, Daniella automatically slumped low in her seat as Crane brought the Transit to life. With all lights blazing, the Transit raced across the path of the stationary BMW, blocking it in. Like a wraith, Crane slithered out of the van and swept into the shadows. Keeping low to the ground, he ran towards Bradley's car. Crouching down, he reached up and snatched at the driver's door handle, throwing it wide open. Bradley was not there. In the diffused light Crane saw Ryan sitting bolt upright and immobile in the passenger seat. His eyes were screwed tight as rivulets of sweat ran down his face and a patch of blood, staining his shirt, oozed out of his side where a long bladed knife remained, pinioning him to the seat. Crane immediately removed the mobile phone, which he had previously taken from Ryan, and called the emergency services.

As Crane finished the call, Ryan gasped, ‘Thanks for that… He did me like Davy Porter… Bradley had no reason to do this to me… he doesn't know that you escaped… I hope you get the bastard.'

‘I'll try, but I need to know where to start. Have you any idea where he may be heading for?'

Ryan was quiet for a moment and Crane thought he had passed out when suddenly, with some effort, he managed to say between clenched teeth, ‘No… My mobile, you've got my mobile… look in that, I've never taken anything off… he's used it once or twice… it may help.'

The ambulance arrived as Crane pulled out of the car park. He couldn't stop the scene running through his mind,
‘It's like déjà vu – I've seen this before.'
On the journey back to Canford, Crane told Daniella what had happened to Ryan and its similarity to the fate of Davy Porter.

Daniella looked appalled. ‘Is he mad?' she remarked.

‘Maybe, I don't know, but what I do know is that he is just plain evil.'

Back at the cottage, while Daniella put the kettle on, Crane plugged Ryan's mobile phone into his computer and switched it on. The phone was crammed with old text messages, telephone numbers and notes. Bradley was listed as having three separate mobile phone numbers, but no landline. Sifting through the mail, Crane found several text messages from him emanating from a hotel in Athlone in Ireland. The last one, sent a month previously, mentioned a date for his return. Crane looked at the calendar and it was to be within two days.

Daniella entered the room with two mugs of tea and set one down beside Crane. ‘Ever been to Ireland?' he said.

‘No, I haven't.'

‘Well you're in for a treat; I'll book a couple seats right now for a flight to Dublin and, from there, we can hire a car and drive to a town called Athlone.'

‘What do we do there?'

‘Book into the Hotel Lana and hopefully we shall be ready to greet Bradley when he arrives the following day.'

Bradley left the mainstream of traffic lining Marine Parade, the road adjacent to the seafront, and headed for the outskirts of town towards the direction of the industrial estate, where he had incarcerated Crane and the woman. He was curious to know if Crane's car was still there and that they were still locked up. It was dark, apart from the street lights dotted about the estate, but as Bradley drove slowly past the disused recording studio, there was no mistaking Crane's old Rover, parked on the forecourt and he felt a sense of triumph. Crane was to blame for Bradley's criminal operation finishing earlier than planned, but he was satisfied in the knowledge that his adversary was no longer a problem. He had dealt with Ryan and would keep his share of the money. That was, he considered, adequate compensation. It was time for a break and flicking the switch on his mobile he confirmed his visit to Hotel Lana.

*

Crane and Daniella arrived at Southend Airport at 8.30 am and within a short time boarded an Aer Lingus aircraft bound for Dublin. Within an hour and a half of landing, having by-passed the city of Dublin, they were on the M6 motorway heading towards Athlone.

It was lunchtime when Crane and Daniella reached Hotel Lana, and booked a room for two days. It was essentially a small guesthouse with only seven bedrooms, but the building was situated on the banks of the beautiful Lough Ree. Their room, on the first floor took in panoramic views across the lake.

Crane stood looking out of the bay window at a grey rain-spattered sky, whilst Daniella made use of the en-suite to freshen up. He noticed a jetty, with a boat moored at the end, a short distance away and assumed it belonged to the hotel. He spotted a small yacht, its sails flapping loosely in the breeze as it turned and headed towards the opposite shore. It suited his purpose to note that, from the bedroom window, it was possible to see anyone coming or going to the hotel; the road was a dead end. Another useful feature transpired when the sash window was slightly open, he could also hear any vehicle that entered the cul-de-sac. However, being off-season, visitors appeared to be in short supply. There was only one other couple staying at the hotel and they were checking out in an hour's time.

Breakfast was the only meal served in the hotel and they had to drive for fifteen minutes to the town of Athlone for main meals. Crane went downstairs to look around; the proprietor, Kathleen, a widow in her mid-forties, was busy dusting around the entrance hall. She seemed friendly enough and this prompted Crane to enquire, ‘Not good weather is it?'

She paused briefly in her chores and replied in a cheerful Irish brogue, ‘Ah but it should brighten up a bit later on I should think.'

‘Let's hope so,' and Crane asked casually, ‘do you expect any other guests this week?'

‘There's just one person arriving tomorrow,' and carried on dusting adding, ‘one of my regulars.'

‘That's nice,' Crane commented as he walked into the sitting room.

*

Bradley felt agitated even though he was certain that he had rid himself of Crane. On leaving Dublin Airport, he collected a hire car then flipped open his mobile to telephone his cousin, the proprietor of Hotel Lana. He gave her an arrival time and also casually enquired if anyone else was staying there. His cousin's description of Crane and Daniella was unmistakeable and he said, ‘Do me a favour, Kathy, can you put them on ice for me?'

‘No problem,' was the short reply. She laid the phone down and thought for a moment, before picking it up again and dialling out. After a few seconds, a gruff throaty voice responded, ‘Yeah?'

‘Is that yourself, Mickey Finn?'

‘Who wants to know?'

‘Tis I, Kathy, yur great lump; ya know? Kathy from the Lana Hotel. I just love the sound of your name.'

There was a laugh at the other end and he replied, ‘Well do you now? I earned that moniker when I was a cocktail waiter. Now what can I do for you, Kathy, me darling?'

‘Me cousin's arriving soon, but there's a couple staying here, that to use his own words needs “putting on ice”. Could you do me a favour and see to it for me?'

‘When?'

She looked at the clock; it was eight thirty. ‘Well now, there's no time like the present is there?'

‘Consider it done, my dear. Are they around now?'

‘No, they've gone to Athlone to eat, but they know I lock up every evening at ten o'clock.'

‘That's fine, we'll keep the trouble out in the open then. I'll be over with a few of the boys within twenty minutes or so and perhaps afterwards,' he chuckled, ‘it's been a long time, so perhaps we can get together for a wee while.'

Kathleen felt herself blushing as she put the phone down and straightened up. She looked in the tall mirror in her bedroom, patted her mousey hair into place, sighed and drew in a slightly overweight stomach.

*

Crane and Daniella had enjoyed a fine meal at one of the Athlone restaurants and it was nine forty-five when their hire car pulled into the floodlit hotel's cul-de-sac. They clambered out and walked towards the hotel entrance. Three men were seated, drinking at one of the outside tables, and seemingly chattering amongst themselves. As they walked past the row of tables, a distinct unmistakeable metallic sound echoed in Crane's ear and he froze. It was that of a slide, snapping back and forth, of a semi-automatic Colt, followed by a gruff, ‘Alright you two; that's far enough.'

Crane and Daniella turned around slowly to face the three men who had been drinking at the table, who were now standing.

‘What do you want with us?'

‘Me? Nothing, it's nothing personal. It's somebody else that's doing the wanting.'

‘Who?'

‘You'll find out soon enough, meanwhile, I'd be obliged if you do as you're told like,' and to reinforce the issue, waved the gun around adding, ‘so I don't have to use this thing and believe me – I will if I have to. So I hope you're going to be sensible, that way nobody will get hurt.' And using the weapon as a pointer finished with, ‘So, sit yourselves down for a while and keep quiet.'

Crane glanced at Mickey Finn and his pair of heavily-built companions; they appeared to be in their late forties or early fifties. Their eyes were focused menacingly on him whilst they spoke in hushed tones to each other.

‘What are you guys, IRA?'

They gave each other knowing looks and one of them said, ‘Wouldn't you be after knowing, that those days are long gone.'

‘Ex-IRA, then?' Crane said with a degree of finality. An audible snap resounded from the direction of the hotel as Kathleen locked the front door and dimmed the entrance hall light.

Crane and Daniella cast a compliant glance at each other and sat down at a table opposite the aggressors.

No more than fifteen minutes had passed before the headlights of an approaching car turned into the cul-de-sac, its bright halogen beams spreading rapidly across the lush green lawns, like white fire, until they came to a halt and were extinguished. All eyes, except Mickey Finn's, were on the figure that slowly emerged from the driver's door and as the figure neared, Crane whispered under his breath, ‘Bradley.'

Bradley's fierce eyes remained upon Crane as he stomped towards the seated men. He passed Finn and said, without faltering in his stride, ‘Won't be a moment,' and headed towards the hotel entrance door. Bradley drew heavily on a cigarette whilst pressing the doorbell and Kathleen came scuttling across the hall to let him in. A quick peck on the cheek served as a greeting as he stepped inside.

‘You want these folks out of the way don't you?'

Bradley nodded and said, ‘What have you got in mind?'

‘I had an idea,' Kathleen ventured.

Bradley looked at her with a “go on” expression.

‘I've been after thinking now, if you want to be permanently rid of that pair, there's an old row boat on the beach by the end of my jetty. I've been meaning to get rid of it; it leaks like a sieve. If someone was to be set adrift in the middle of Lough Ree, I know for a fact it won't go far. The waters of Lough Ree are very cold this time of year; a few people were drowned in them this very summer.'

‘They are hardly going to row themselves out are they?'

‘No, no, my dear,' she smiled, ‘Mickey Finn can tow them out in my wee motor boat.'

Bradley rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said matter-of-factly, ‘I was going to put a bullet in them and get Mickey to dump the bodies.'

Kathleen shrugged and said, ‘Well it's up to you. It was just a thought but you know for a fact, that bullets always attract more police investigations than an accident would.'

‘How bad is that boat? I mean you are sure it will sink?'

‘Like a stone. It's very old and its timbers are rotten. Anyway it could always be helped along by using a hammer.'

Bradley looked sceptical but he understood the merit of Kathleen's reasoning and so he agreed, as she smiled sweetly, and commented, ‘The things I do for you.'

The gun in Mickey Finn's right hand never wavered or strayed. It was constantly pointed in the direction of Crane. There was no chance of him being able to overpower Finn without getting in the way of a bullet. He surmised that all three men were probably armed, but they seemed content to leave things to Finn. About twenty minutes had passed, before Bradley came out of the front door of the hotel. He spoke quietly to Finn and, without so much as a glance to Crane, sauntered back towards the hotel reception again.

Without taking his eyes off Crane, Finn motioned to one of his men with his hand. The man sprung up and moved smartly forward. After a few hushed words, Finn's eyes narrowed and he stared at Crane. ‘Right, up you get,' he commanded, ‘the pair of you – follow me.'

Without a word, Crane and Daniella fell in line between the three men. By now, the other two men had produced their handguns. Crane rightly guessed that these men were used to this kind of work; possibly they were ex-IRA or some other illicit organisation. ‘Where are we off to?' he questioned. There was no answer.

The short walk to the jetty took just a few minutes. Under the watchful eye of Finn, his two companions attached a tow line from the motor launch to an old rowing boat on the beach. They started the motor launch engine and gradually dragged the old wooden boat into the water.

‘Get in,' Finn barked gruffly.

Crane and Daniella waded and splashed through the water, until it came up to their knees, then clambered aboard and sat facing each other. No sooner had they sat down, when Finn, with his gun still trained on them, jumped into the motor launch. He positioned himself with his back to the driver so that he could face the unfortunate pair. One of his men slammed the boat into forward gear and the powerful Johnson engine responded, with a roar, as the boat pulled away from the jetty. The old rowing boat jerked violently forwards and the shoreline began to recede. Crane felt the water sloshing around his shoes as it seeped through the planking. He bent forward close to Daniella and said, ‘Can you swim?'

She had also noticed the leak and nodded grimly. She tucked her long-sleeved cardigan in her waist and wrapped her cold arms around her shoulders.

‘I reckon their idea is to tow this tub to the middle of the lake and, then when it sinks, leave us to drown.'

‘It figures,' Daniella said, through chattering teeth adding, ‘or to die of hyperthermia.'

Crane looked towards the dim lights of the hotel in the distance and said, ‘It's pitch-dark all around but I remember seeing an island over to the right-hand side. When this thing sinks, we'd never make it to the shore; our only chance is to try and head for that island. Hopefully, we can use the lights from the hotel as a guide.'

Crane called out to Finn, ‘This thing's leaking; we can't swim.'

There was no reply. Suddenly Finn threw the rope off his motor boat then circled around the row boat several times; it churned the water up in its wake, until the lake's surface was only a few centimetres from swamping the old boat. Finn grabbed hold of a lamp and aimed its beam, sending a blinding flash piercing into the darkness. He could see clearly that the boat he was towing was finished. Satisfied his part was done, he ordered the driver to head back to the jetty.

Bradley was there to greet them on their return and handed Finn a wad of Euros for his trouble.

*

As soon as Finn's motor launch began to head for shore, Crane and Daniella felt the boat begin to drop away below them and they rolled over the side into the bitter-cold waters.

Before leaving the boat Crane had warned, ‘Stay on my left-hand side, so I don't lose sight of you.'

Keeping an eye on the dimly-lit shoreline, Crane headed for what he hoped would be the island that he had seen from the hotel window. Swimming fully dressed, with clothes billowing in the water, was no easy task; it was hard going. However, they knew that their lives depended on keeping it up but, after ten minutes or so, with the cold and exertion gnawing into her bones, Daniella felt her energy was being sapped away fast and her tired body was beginning to flag. Crane was also feeling tired. He had fully expected to have reached the island by now and was beginning to hope against hope, that in the pitch darkness, he had not misjudged their position and had bypassed that life-saving piece of land. It was then, he realised that Daniella was no longer swimming by his side.