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 Walking the Dog by Smilodon Chapter Five

   No idyll ever lasts and ours was shorter than most.  We were summoned
back to the real world by Niall hammering on the door.  "Martin, get up! 
Looks like we've got company!" My heart sank and a sick feeling permeated
the rosy glow.  I rose and dressed as quickly as I could with Angela
following suit.  About two minutes later we joined the twins in the lounge.
Liam gestured to us to move to the side of the room.  "Our friends are a
little quick off the mark," he said and gave us a humourless smile.  Niall
asked, "How many?" and Liam grunted before replying.  "Just spotted another
one.  That makes five out here and three more we've clocked round the back.
I think we can assume two or three to each side so a round dozen at a
guess. Good job they're amateurs!"

   "Amateurs?" My voice sounded unnaturally loud.  "Absolute bloody
amateurs," said Niall, "We wouldn't have spotted pros in this cover." He
nodded towards the hedgerows that fronted the cottage and flanked the road
on either side.  Angela spoke.  "What are we going to do now?" The twins
laughed.  "Put the fear of Christ Himself into their little black hearts!"
Niall glanced at Liam.  "Everything ready?" His brother winked and when
Niall nodded, pulled a small black object out of his inside pocket.  He saw
my quizzical look.  "Remote detonator." He pressed a button and the peace
of the Berkshire countryside was shattered by a series of loud explosions
that seemed to ripple around the house.  Angela grabbed me and hung on
tight to my arm.  It was over in seconds and before my ears had recovered
from the shock, I heard men's voices, panicked and shrill.  The local rooks
had also been disturbed and their harsh voices added to the general
cacophony.

   "Right, grab your things and let's go," said Liam, "I'll take care of
the dogs." Angela and I sprinted back into the bedroom and threw our stuff
into our bags.  Niall had the door open and shoved us through into the
waiting car.  Trotsky and Magic seemed to find it all great fun and they
were bouncing around in the back as Liam gunned the engine, slammed it into
first and we took off like a rocket.  The big four-wheel drive rolled
alarmingly as we exited the gates and swung onto the road.  Angela and I
were thrown together in the back seat and we clung on to each other.  The
dogs complained loudly as they were flung into a heap.  I thought I heard a
gunshot.

   "That should wake the bloody neighbours!" Niall grinned back at us. 
"What was that stuff?" I said.  Liam laughed.  "Thunderflashes, old son,
all sound and fury!  We keep a small stock." Thunderflashes are military
pyrotechnics, used for exercises.  They make an incredible noise but aren't
at all powerful.  "Scared the crap out of them!" I smiled.  "Scared the
crap out of me, too." We came to a crossroads and Liam turned right and
then took an immediate left into a narrow lane.  We were barrelling along
at well over sixty and I found myself praying there was nothing coming the
other way.  We seemed to make several turns at random and the next thing I
knew, we were driving into Hungerford and heading for the Motorway.  To my
surprise, we headed back towards London.

   "Where are we going now?"

   "Plan B, old son.  Confusion to our enemies.  We're going to pay Mr
Mickey the Mouth Cornell a little visit."

   "He wasn't there then, this morning?"

   "Very much doubt it.  Wouldn't have been so easy.  Besides, he wouldn't
sully his lilywhite hands.  Leaves the rough stuff to the mechanics, he's
the engineer."

   "Do you know where to find him?"

   "Couple of phone calls was all it took.  We have friends in low places."

   I knew I wouldn't get any more out them so I settled back for the ride.
Angela had recovered her equilibrium somewhat and she smiled at me.  "You
are lucky to have such friends," she said.  I nodded my wholehearted
agreement.  Niall turned to us.  "We're the lucky ones, Miss Sable.  If it
wasn't for Martin, we'd be working for Securicor." I shook my head. 
"Somehow I don't think so.  I reckon you two could fall into a dung-heap
and come up smelling of roses." Niall gave me a withering look.  "No money,
no business," he said.  "We both know it if you don't." I waved a hand at
him.  "That's what friends are for.  Not for getting your arses shot off by
a bunch of bloody hoodlums." The twins laughed uproariously.  "Martin, we
never knew you made a habit of this or we wouldn't have got involved!"
"Martin Booth, man of mystery!  Seriously, old son, we couldn't wish for a
better way to repay you.  This is what we do.  And we love it!"

   I knew they were speaking the truth.  They were loving every second of
it.  It was their element.  I was scared shitless and they thought it was a
huge game.  In some ways, they reminded me of Magic.  The enthusiasm,

   the irresponsibility, the boundless good nature.  God only knows how
they stayed out of jail.  Oh yes, they were on the side of the Angels, but
they raised Hell in the process, wherever they went.  I'd hate to be up
against them.

   In a little over an hour we were pulling up on a quiet street in Bedford
Park.  It was a typical Sunday morning scene; people washing their cars,
children playing football in a small park.  The sheer normality of it was
hard to take in after the start to the day I'd had.  I'd been seduced,
surrounded and shot at.  This is not your everyday occurrence for a boring
tax lawyer.  Niall indicated a Victorian stucco villa set back a little
from the road.  "That's our man, lets go spoil his breakfast."

   Niall didn't bother ringing the highly polished brass bell.  He just
kicked the door in.  We burst into the house like Gangbusters.  I was
shocked to notice that the twins were each clutching 9mm Browning
automatics.  I hadn't known they were armed but I suppose it was logical,
in their world.  I tried to shut out all thoughts of what the Bar Council
would do to me if any of this ever came out.  Handguns are banned in
Britain but ironically, easier to get hold of since they became illegal. 
They have become the accessory of choice for half the street gangs in the
inner cities.  I salved my conscience with the thought that at least Niall
and Liam knew how to use them.

   Mickey Cornell was in his kitchen, a stunned expression on his normally
too-smooth face.  He seemed rooted to the spot as we crashed in and
surrounded him in a moment.  Niall and Liam stood each side of his chair.
They never threatened him with their weapons but made sure that he saw they
were armed.  I took a seat beside him and waved Angela into the chair
opposite.

   "Mr Smythe!  Or should I say, Mr Cornell.  I think it's time you made
the acquaintance of Miss Angela Sable.  I believe we have a lot to talk
about."

   I may have sounded confident but my heart was racing and my palms were
sweaty.  I stared at him.  Holding eye contact until he looked away.  Then
I went on.

   "Let's start with your little farrago concerning Miss Sable's father. 
He was never involved in any currency scam, was he?  Her Majesty's
Government aren't trying to help the Russian Federation and, even if they
were, your services are no longer required.  What was it, Mickey, had your
hands in the till?"

   His face contorted with anger and he made a slight move towards me.  One
large hand on each shoulder slammed him back into his seat.  Niall punched
him hard in the kidneys and he screamed in agony and slipped to the floor.
The twins hauled him up and threw him back in the chair.  "Mind your
manners, my old lad," said Liam.  I continued.

   "Let me make it easy for you, Cornell.  You came to me with some
bullshit about Miss Sable's father because you were desperate to get hold
of her.  Your associates ransacked her studio looking for something.  She
doesn't know what you want and doesn't have anything that could be of any
possible use to you or your Chechen friends.  But we would like to know why
you have gone to so much trouble."

   I was guessing his associates were Chechens but he didn't deny it.  He
was still gasping with pain but he raised his head and gave me a look of
pure hatred.

   "Fuck you, Booth!  And fuck your friends!"

   His tirade was cut off by another solid blow to the kidneys.  "Manners,
Mickey!  Ladies present." It was Niall this time but the effect was equally
devastating for poor Mickey.  He lay on the floor, writhing in pain but was
given no respite as once more the twins threw him back in the chair.  I'm
not good with violence but a glance at Liam and Niall told me to let it go.
They were deliberate and cold, nothing frenzied or out of control.  They
seemed to know how to inflict serious pain without inflicting lasting
damage.  Niall gestured as much with one hand, indicating Cornell and
giving me the 'OK' sign surreptitiously.  I can't say I liked it but I
understood their purpose.  The ex-Intelligence man was clearly off balance
now so I tried again.

   "Let me make it as plain as I can, Cornell.  We have no idea what it is
you're after and we would like to know.  All we want from you is to
understand what this is all about.  Maybe we could even save you a lot of
time and effort.  Certainly, talking to me is going to save you a world of
pain."

   He seemed to consider this for a minute and then he replied between
gritted teeth.

   "Ikons.  More particularly, one 13th Century ikon.  Three panels,
painted on box wood."

   "Explain, I don't understand."

   "The good Colonel ran a security business in St Petersburg after the
Soviet Union went tits up.  Big business in Russia, now.  Anyway, he was
hired by some Swiss collector to guard a shipment of Ikons.  Let's just say
they weren't acquired through regular channels.  Among the collection was a
13th Century Ikon, almost priceless.  If I tell you the Swiss guy paid over
$5 million on the black market, you might get an idea.  There are only two
known to exist and our Swiss chum had one of them.  Or rather he didn't. 
They were to be brought out hidden in a container through Tallinn.  Never
made it to the port.

   "I don't believe in coincidence.  The Colonel vanished at the same time.
What he didn't know was that the Swiss was just a front.  The real players
were the Chechens.  They were going to sell in the West to raise money for
the cause.  Like I told you, the Colonel surfaced in Sweden, regrettably
dead.  The Ikons are nowhere on the radar.  The logical place to look was
with his daughters.

   "What got us really very interested was a catalogue item for the auction
at Hervey's; something along the lines of Russian Triptych Ikon on box
wood, believed to be 13th Century, the property of a lady."

   I looked at Angela.  She shook her head helplessly.  "I know nothing
about any of this," she said.  I believed her, so, apparently, did Cornell.


   "We'd more or less decided you weren't involved but then, yesterday, you
took off.  That got us thinking again.  Look, Booth, I don't call the shots
here; I'm just a fixer.  I'll talk to them; tell them you aren't involved.
I spent last week going over Miss Sable's affairs with a fine-toothed comb.
She came up clean.  Anyway, as I told them before, it was too obvious.  The
Colonel was a pro.  Also, I don't think he'd endanger his daughters.  Some
of the hired muscle isn't too bright.  They put two and two together and
make a dozen, provided they take off their socks to help them count that
far.

   "I'm sorry about your sister, Miss, I wasn't involved with that at all.
I only handle things here in the UK.  I made it clear to them that I
wouldn't sanction any violence - would shop the lot of them if they didn't
keep it under control.  The Boss said he'd personally shoot anyone of them
who stepped out of line, but I think that was just for my benefit.  They
won't cross me on my patch, though.  I have too many powerful friends.  I
think I can safely say they'll listen to me and the dogs will be called
off."

   He was starting to sound too much like his old smooth self for my
liking. He wanted to clear his own yardarm.  I knew there was something he
wasn't telling us but at least we had a part of the truth.  I was thinking
furiously.  I gave a quick glance to Liam and Niall and they understood
that they were to go along with anything I said.

   "I don't know how or why you became involved in this, Cornell, but I
want your word that our part in this stops here."

   He nodded agreement.  "Done!"

   "Miss Sable and I are returning to Norfolk, to her studio.  I'm telling
you this so you will know where we are and can see we have nothing to hide.
There is just one more thing I'd like to know.  "Who was the plain-clothes
police officer in Norfolk?  Was he really from Special Branch?"

   "I have no idea, but I very much doubt it.  I just used Rod Willis's
name to see if I could stir you up.  I know how nervous you lawyers get if
you think you might be under suspicion."

   "Then how did you know it was me that called the police?"

   "Oh that!  Easy, old boy.  My associate noted your car number and I
simply called in a favour from the boys in blue.  You're not a hard man to
track.  By the way, your bank account's overdrawn."

   He said this last with a nasty smile, just to remind me that there are
no secrets in his murky world.  Liam topped him nicely.  ""And your account
at UBS has been frozen, pending investigation for money laundering."
Cornell gaped like a stranded salmon.  Liam smiled sweetly.  "No doubt
you'll be able to clear it up in a day or two." Cornell was sprinting for
the telephone as we left.