The Killing Ground

“The Army of God is a registered organization,” Roper told him. “It’s in the phone book.”

“I was thinking of something a little more private than that.”

Roper smiled. “I should say, are you sure you want to do this, but you know what, Harry? Khan is a very bad man. Like you, I’ve had enough.”

He called Holland Park, gave Khan’s name into the automated co

“Huntley Street Apartments,” he said.

Harry started to move and Billy stood up. “This is my gig, Harry. The boys and I will get him.”

“You’ve got to think of your position, Billy.”

“As a member of Her Majesty’s Secret Intelligence Services? Harry, I don’t give a toss. I’m as pissed off as you two.” He turned to Hall and

Baxter. “Are you available?”

“Too bloody true we are,” Baxter told him.

Harry said, “Okay, I’ll see you on the Linda Jones, and you, Major, I think you’ve got things to attend to at Holland Park.”

“You mean I’m not up to it?”

“I just don’t want you involved.”

“He’s right,” Billy said. “Come on, boys.” Baxter and Hall followed him out to the Alfa Romeo parked by the People Traveller.

“Major Roper’s coming out,” Billy called to Doyle, behind the wheel with his book, and piled into the Alfa with Baxter and Hall and was away.

Roper emerged in the wheelchair, Harry following, and the rear door of the People Traveller came down as the lift descended at Doyle’s touch. Harry put a hand on Roper’s shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Try not to kill him,” Roper said. “Sometimes I’ve had enough of that, too. It’s been a hell of a life, Harry.”

“I know, old son. I’ll try and oblige you.”

The lift took Roper up and inside. Doyle drove away. Ruby appeared. “Everything all right, Harry?”

“Just going down to the Linda, love. I’ve got a bit of business to handle, phone calls to make. I don’t want to be disturbed, okay?”

“Just as you say, Harry.”

She went back inside and he walked slowly along the wharf.

KHAN WAS AT THE DESK of his study, working over some papers, when the buzzer sounded from the entry phone in the hall. Billy had given the matter some thought on the way. That Khan was involved in the whole affair was obvious, which meant he might have seen photos of the Salters and Dillon. So it was Baxter who held up Billy’s warrant card when he pressed the buzzer.

Khan looked at him on the entry screen. “Yes?”

“Professor Khan? Sergeant Jones, CID Paddington Green. Young Muslim lady was assaulted. A patrol car has brought her in, but her English isn’t too good. She mentioned your name. I’m really asking for assistance here.”

“I’m always happy to help the police.”

Khan pressed the button, took a few steps to the door, which burst open. Baxter moved fast and punched him in the stomach. Billy and Hall crowded in behind. An overcoat was taken down from a hall stand, his arms thrust into it, a dark trilby hat rammed on his head. Baxter and Hall walked him out to the Alfa, sat him between them in the back and Billy drove away.

HARRY WAS SITTING in the stern of the Linda Jones under an awning, light spilling out from the deck lamp into the gathering darkness, a glass of scotch in his hand, and Baxter and Hall held Khan in front of him. Billy leaned against the rail, watching.

Khan had recovered himself, but he did recognize Salter and was genuinely terrified, yet he tried bluster, “What’s going on here?”

“I’m Harry Salter, you are Dreq Khan. I’m going to ask you some questions and if you don’t answer me, I’ll kill you and we’ll throw you in the river.”

Khan felt the bottom fall out of his stomach. “What is it you want?”

“Hussein Rashid and his chum Khazid, we know they were on their way to England. I’d like your confirmation that they’ve arrived.”

“What nonsense is this?”

“Don’t mess me around. A good friend of mine in Cambridge, Professor Hal Stone, just back from Hazar after helping Dillon and my Billy here to bring Sara Rashid home, was shot twice today in his garden and left for dead. We figure it must have been Hussein and Khazid. What do you think?”

“I’ve no idea what you are talking about,” Khan said desperately.

“He’s wasting our time, Billy. Try the hoist.”

Baxter and Hall pulled off Khan’s overcoat and jacket, forced him down and Billy reached for the hemp line suspended from the hoist and looped it round the ankles. Baxter and Hall heaved on the rope and pulled Khan up, head down.

“Simple question,” Billy said in his ear. “Are they in England and have you heard from them?”

They swung him over and dropped him in the Thames. He went under, crying out. As his hands were untied, he managed to move his arms about. When he stopped struggling, Harry nodded and they pulled him up. He floundered on the deck, coughing and spluttering, and there was nothing left in him.

Harry said, “Let me make it quite clear. If we have to put you over again, we leave the river to take you away.”

“No, for pity’s sake.” Khan sat up, reaching for a rail. “They are here. I had nothing to do with it. It was handled by the Broker, Osama’s man, and don’t ask for his phone number. He contacts you when he wants. You never contact him because you can’t. Hussein and Khazid came in a boat by night from France to England. His phone call was a total surprise to me. Hussein said he was at a cottage called Folly Way at Peel Strand in Dorset. He didn’t mention the name of the person he was staying with, I swear it.”

“Go on.”

“I tell you the truth when I admit that the Army of God has a network of spies who are just small people. I had the Rashids’ house watched and one of my men reported they had left the house. He followed them to Farley Field where they flew away to an unknown destination.”

“Was Hussein angry when you told him that?”

“Yes. He said we had to find out where the Rashid family had been taken. I told him that was an impossibility for us.”

“And then what?”

Khan lied desperately. “He said there was one person he could visit because the Broker had mentioned that Professor Stone, who had been part of the whole affair in Hazar, was Ferguson’s cousin. Hussein said they would pay him a visit in Cambridge.” There was a pause while

Harry considered the matter.

Billy said, “Bleeding liar.”

Harry shook his head. “The fact that Hussein has no idea where the Rashids are must be true, otherwise why bother to go to Cambridge? His assumption that Hal Stone would know something makes sense.”

He got up, went into the salon and poured scotch. Billy followed and closed the door. “So you believe the bastard?”

Harry said, “Remember what Hal said? That they were here, both of them, the other one shot me, and I didn’t tell them about Zion.”

“That’s right,” Billy said. “Ferguson admitted he’d told Stone about Zion.”

“The reason they tracked Stone down was because they had no idea the Rashids had gone. They must have told him that was the purpose of the visit. His saying he hadn’t told them about Zion confirms they’ve still no idea where the Rashids are.”

“And Stone probably made a run for it and got the two bullets in the back,” Billy said. “So what about this asshole outside? Do we finish him?”

Harry opened the door and stepped out. Baxter and Hall had seated Khan in a chair. He looked as if he’d come to the end of his tether.

“What’s your idea on where Hussein would be now?”

“I don’t know,” Khan said wearily.“He’s a crazy man. With his photo all over the newspapers, it was his madness coming to England in the first place.”