Be Careful What You Wish For: The Clifton Chronicles 4 (49 page)

‘It’s so exciting,’ said Sam as Sebastian turned off the A4 and followed the signs for the docks. ‘I’ve never been on an ocean liner
before.’

‘And it’s no ordinary liner,’ said Sebastian. ‘It’s got a sun deck, a cinema, two restaurants and a swimming pool. It’s more like a floating city.’

‘It seems strange having a swimming pool when you’re surrounded by water.’

‘Water, water everywhere.’

‘Another of your minor English poets?’ said Sam.

‘Do you have any major American poets?’

‘One who wrote a poem you could learn something from:
The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling
upward in the night
.’

‘Who wrote that?’ asked Sebastian.

‘How many of our people are already on board?’ asked Lord Glenarthur, trying to remain in character as the car drove out of Bristol and headed for the port.

‘Three porters and a couple of waiters, one in the grill room, one in cabin class, and a messenger boy.’

‘Can they be relied on to keep their mouths shut if they were interrogated or put under real pressure?’

‘Two of the porters and one of the waiters were hand-picked. The messenger boy will only be on board for a few minutes, and once he’s delivered the flowers, he’ll hot-foot it
back to Belfast.’

‘After we’ve checked in, Liam, come to my cabin at nine o’clock. By then most of the first-class passengers will be having dinner, which will give you more than enough time to
set up the equipment.’

‘Setting it up won’t be the problem,’ said Liam. ‘It’s getting that large trunk on board without anyone becoming suspicious that I’m worried about.’

‘Two of the porters know the number plate of this car,’ said the chauffeur, ‘and they’ll be looking out for us.’

‘How’s my accent holding up?’ asked Glenarthur.

‘You’d have fooled me, but I’m not an English gentleman. And we’ll have to hope no one on board has actually met Lord Glenarthur.’

‘Unlikely. He’s over eighty, and he hasn’t been seen in public since his wife died ten years ago.’

‘Isn’t he a distant relation of the Barringtons?’ asked Liam.

‘That’s why I chose him. If the SAS has anyone on board, they’ll check
Who’s Who
, and assume I’m family.’

‘But what if you bump into a member of the family?’

‘I’m not going to bump
into
any of them. I’m going to bump them all off.’ The chauffeur chuckled. ‘Now, tell me, how do I get to my other cabin after
I’ve pressed the button?’

‘I’ll give you the key at nine o’clock. Can you remember where the public toilet on deck six is? Because that’s where you’ll have to change once you’ve left
your cabin for the last time.’

‘It’s on the far side of the first-class lounge. And by the way, old chap, it’s a lavatory not a toilet,’ said Lord Glenarthur. ‘That’s the sort of simple
mistake that could get me caught out. Don’t forget, this ship is typical of English society. The upper classes don’t mix with cabin, and the cabin classes wouldn’t consider
speaking to those in tourist. So it might not be that easy for us to get in touch with each other.’

‘But I read this is the first liner with a telephone in every room,’ Liam said, ‘so if there’s an emergency, just dial 712. If I don’t pick up, our waiter in the
grill room is called Jimmy, and he . . .’

Colonel Scott-Hopkins wasn’t looking in the direction of the
Buckingham.
He and his colleagues were scanning the crowd on the quay for any sign of an Irish
presence. So far he hadn’t seen anyone he recognized. Captain Hartley and Sergeant Roberts, who had both served in Northern Ireland with the SAS, had also drawn blanks. It was Corporal Crann
who spotted him.

‘Four o’clock, standing on his own at the back of the crowd. He’s not looking at the ship, just the passengers.’

‘What the hell’s he doing here?’

‘Perhaps the same as us, looking for someone. But who?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Scott-Hopkins, ‘but, Crann, don’t let him out of your sight, and if he speaks to anyone or attempts to go on board, I want to know
immediately.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Crann, who began to weave his way through the crowd towards the target.

‘Six o’clock,’ said Captain Hartley.

The colonel switched his attention. ‘Oh God, that’s all we need . . .’

‘Once I get out of the car, Liam, make yourself scarce and assume there are people in the crowd looking for you,’ said Lord Glenarthur. ‘And be sure
you’re in my cabin by nine.’

‘I’ve just spotted Cormac and Declan,’ said the chauffeur. He flashed his lights once and they hurried across, ignoring several other passengers who needed assistance.

‘Don’t get out of the car,’ said Glenarthur to the chauffeur. It took both of the porters to lift the heavy trunk out of the boot and place it on a trolley as gently as if they
were handling a new-born baby. After one of them had slammed the boot shut, Glenarthur said, ‘When you get back to London, Kevin, keep an eye on forty-four Eaton Square. Now that Martinez has
sold his Rolls-Royce, I have a feeling he might do a runner.’ He turned back to Liam. ‘See you at nine,’ he added, then got out of the car and melted into the crowd.

‘When should I deliver the lilies?’ whispered a young man who had appeared by Lord Glenarthur’s side.

‘About thirty minutes before the ship is due to cast off. Then make sure we don’t see you again, unless it’s in Belfast.’

Don Pedro stood at the back of the crowd and watched as a car he recognized came to a halt some distance from the ship.

He wasn’t surprised to see that this particular chauffeur didn’t get out when a couple of porters appeared from nowhere, opened the boot and unloaded a large trunk on to a trolley,
and began to wheel it slowly towards the ship. Two men, one elderly and one in his thirties, stepped out of the back of the car. The older man, whom Don Pedro had never seen before, supervised the
unloading of the luggage, while chatting to the porters. Don Pedro looked round for the other man, but he had already disappeared into the crowd.

Moments later the car swung round and drove away. Chauffeurs usually open the back door for their passengers, assist with the unloading of luggage, then await further instructions. Not this one,
who clearly didn’t want to hang around long enough to be recognized, especially with such a large police presence on the quayside.

Don Pedro felt sure that whatever the IRA had planned, it was more likely to take place during the voyage than before the
Buckingham
had set sail. Once the car had disappeared, Don
Pedro joined a long queue and waited for a taxi. He no longer had a driver or car. He was still smarting at the price he’d been paid for the Rolls-Royce after insisting on cash.

Eventually he reached the front of the queue and asked the cabbie to take him to Temple Meads station. On the train back to Paddington, he mulled over what he’d planned for the next day.
He had no intention of paying the second instalment of £250,000, not least because he didn’t have the money. He still had just over £23,000 in the safe, and another four thousand
from the sale of the Rolls. He thought that if he could get out of London before the IRA had fulfilled their part of the bargain, they weren’t likely to follow him to Buenos Aires.

‘Was it him?’ asked the colonel.

‘Might have been, but I can’t be sure,’ Hartley replied. ‘There are a lot of chauffeurs in peaked caps and dark glasses today, and by the time I got close enough to have
a good look, he was already heading back towards the gate.’

‘Did you see who he was dropping off?’

‘Look around, sir, it could be any one of the hundreds of passengers boarding the ship,’ said Hartley, as someone brushed past the colonel.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Lord Glenarthur, raising his hat and giving the colonel a smile before he walked up the passenger ramp and boarded the ship.

‘Great cabin,’ said Sam as she came out of the shower wrapped in a towel. ‘They’ve thought of everything a girl needs.’

‘That’s because my mother will have inspected every room.’

‘Every one?’ said Sam in disbelief.

‘You’d better believe it. It’s just a pity she hasn’t thought about everything a boy needs.’