rain had stopped and the clouds were clearing. It was starting to look like a fine day. I was getting eyestrain as I stared up the road towards the bend where No-Nose would appear if he’d survived. There was a thick hawthorn hedge there and a narrow pavement. Horses had recently left their calling cards on the roadway.
Unexpectedly there was a loud rap on the offside window. I almost jumped out of my skin. It was No-Nose. His twisted features were stretched into a wide grin. He resembled a gargoyle after five hundred years of erosion.
‘It’s OK, Mr C. All clear!’ he said. His voice was unnaturally strident in the morning stillness.
11
Tuesday: 6 a.m.
‘What did you have to sneak up on me for?’ I asked, trying to cover up my surprise.
‘Yes,’ agreed Clint, chiming in with my complaint. ‘Bob says you can give people a heart attack, sneaking up on them.’
Tony’s eyebrows shot up. Clint is in the habit of creeping up on his brother.
I got out of the BMW. No-Nose was clutching a bulging plastic carrier bag.
‘What’s in there?’ I asked, suspecting he’d reverted to burglary.
‘It’s just the doings,’ he said offhandedly. ‘I’ve not nicked anything.’
‘Sorry,’ I muttered.
‘Not that you’ve got much worth nicking, Mr C.’
‘For God’s sake, Tony, call me Dave. What’s in the bag?’
‘C4, NATO military explosive, that’s what. It’s not as powerful as octocellulose.’
‘What?’
‘Just joking, octocellulose doesn’t exist. It’s in a science fiction book, four times more powerful than C4.’
I looked at him. So he had been getting ideas out of science fiction books. Maybe the ‘reconditioned brain’ was a fantasy.
‘There’s at least four kilograms of C4. They wanted to make sure of you.’
He held the bag open revealing a large lump of off-white coloured plastic explosive. There was also a Nokia phone enclosed in a Ziploc sandwich bag.
‘That’s not still connected, is it?’ I gasped, suddenly distrustful of his bomb disposal expertise.
He put on the gargoyle grin again, switched the bag to his left hand and waved wires and a detonator under my nose.
‘Tra-la!’ he crowed, holding them up.
‘Brilliant,’ I muttered, clapping my hands quietly.
Clint joined in noisily. His applause echoed down the lane like a car backfiring. I signalled for silence with a finger on my lips.
‘I put the phone in the bag in case there are prints on it, but as these guys are pros I don’t expect there are.’
‘So what’s your brain telling you now?’
‘I’ve an idea where they’re hiding.’
‘Go on.’
‘I came back by a shortcut.’
‘There are none.’
‘There are. You haven’t found them. I came through the hedge because I wanted a look round. There’s any number of broken down sheds near your house, Mr C.’
‘I know. Call me Dave. I don’t like Mr C.’
‘Yes, Dave, there are a lot of places where they could hide. I thought if I go back now and keep my eyes open and then you enter the house by the back door they’d set off the bomb and come out of hiding and get lost when it doesn’t go off. Then we’ll find out who they are.’
‘Very logical that new brain of yours, but suppose they just decide to correct their mistake and come out firing sub-machineguns?’
‘We’ll scarper in that case unless you want to try and take them out with that shotgun you left on your kitchen counter.’
‘I was in a hurry,’ I mumbled.
I couldn’t think of any further objections to his plan even so the situation was unreal. What was I doing, following the instructions of No-Nose Nolan’s reconditioned brain?
I must have gaped at him.
‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘We’ll have to get a rattle on or they’ll be getting jumpy.’
‘Why would they do that?’
‘Stands to reason, Dave,’ he said condescendingly. ‘They’d have preferred to set the bomb off in the night and get away without anyone seeing them. The later it gets the more
Unexpectedly there was a loud rap on the offside window. I almost jumped out of my skin. It was No-Nose. His twisted features were stretched into a wide grin. He resembled a gargoyle after five hundred years of erosion.
‘It’s OK, Mr C. All clear!’ he said. His voice was unnaturally strident in the morning stillness.
11
Tuesday: 6 a.m.
‘What did you have to sneak up on me for?’ I asked, trying to cover up my surprise.
‘Yes,’ agreed Clint, chiming in with my complaint. ‘Bob says you can give people a heart attack, sneaking up on them.’
Tony’s eyebrows shot up. Clint is in the habit of creeping up on his brother.
I got out of the BMW. No-Nose was clutching a bulging plastic carrier bag.
‘What’s in there?’ I asked, suspecting he’d reverted to burglary.
‘It’s just the doings,’ he said offhandedly. ‘I’ve not nicked anything.’
‘Sorry,’ I muttered.
‘Not that you’ve got much worth nicking, Mr C.’
‘For God’s sake, Tony, call me Dave. What’s in the bag?’
‘C4, NATO military explosive, that’s what. It’s not as powerful as octocellulose.’
‘What?’
‘Just joking, octocellulose doesn’t exist. It’s in a science fiction book, four times more powerful than C4.’
I looked at him. So he had been getting ideas out of science fiction books. Maybe the ‘reconditioned brain’ was a fantasy.
‘There’s at least four kilograms of C4. They wanted to make sure of you.’
He held the bag open revealing a large lump of off-white coloured plastic explosive. There was also a Nokia phone enclosed in a Ziploc sandwich bag.
‘That’s not still connected, is it?’ I gasped, suddenly distrustful of his bomb disposal expertise.
He put on the gargoyle grin again, switched the bag to his left hand and waved wires and a detonator under my nose.
‘Tra-la!’ he crowed, holding them up.
‘Brilliant,’ I muttered, clapping my hands quietly.
Clint joined in noisily. His applause echoed down the lane like a car backfiring. I signalled for silence with a finger on my lips.
‘I put the phone in the bag in case there are prints on it, but as these guys are pros I don’t expect there are.’
‘So what’s your brain telling you now?’
‘I’ve an idea where they’re hiding.’
‘Go on.’
‘I came back by a shortcut.’
‘There are none.’
‘There are. You haven’t found them. I came through the hedge because I wanted a look round. There’s any number of broken down sheds near your house, Mr C.’
‘I know. Call me Dave. I don’t like Mr C.’
‘Yes, Dave, there are a lot of places where they could hide. I thought if I go back now and keep my eyes open and then you enter the house by the back door they’d set off the bomb and come out of hiding and get lost when it doesn’t go off. Then we’ll find out who they are.’
‘Very logical that new brain of yours, but suppose they just decide to correct their mistake and come out firing sub-machineguns?’
‘We’ll scarper in that case unless you want to try and take them out with that shotgun you left on your kitchen counter.’
‘I was in a hurry,’ I mumbled.
I couldn’t think of any further objections to his plan even so the situation was unreal. What was I doing, following the instructions of No-Nose Nolan’s reconditioned brain?
I must have gaped at him.
‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘We’ll have to get a rattle on or they’ll be getting jumpy.’
‘Why would they do that?’
‘Stands to reason, Dave,’ he said condescendingly. ‘They’d have preferred to set the bomb off in the night and get away without anyone seeing them. The later it gets the more
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