Connor Delaney took them in straight and fast. Quinn climbed out into a foot of water. Then, with Katerina’s help, he lifted Madeline from the Zodiac and marched her toward the car parked along the edge of the road. The car was a Peugeot 508, dark gray. The boot was open. Quinn forced Madeline inside and slammed the lid. Then he and Katerina climbed into the car, Katerina in the front passenger seat, Quinn stretched across the backseat, the Makarov pointed at her spine. Behind the wheel, wearing a reefer coat and a woolen watch cap, was Billy Conway. “Welcome home,” he said. Then he started the engine and pulled onto the road.

They headed west toward Downpatrick. Quinn turned his face away instinctively as a unit from the PSNI approached from the opposite direction, lights flashing.

“Where do you suppose he’s going so early on a lovely Saturday morning?”

“It’s like that all across the six counties.” Billy Conway glanced into the rearview mirror. “I suppose you’re the cause of it.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Who’s the girl in the trunk?”

Quinn hesitated, then answered truthfully.

“The Russian girl who was sleeping with the prime minister?”

“One and the same.”

“Christ, Eamon.” Billy Conway drove in silence for a moment. “You never told me you were bringing out a hostage.”

“The facts on the ground changed.”

“What facts?”

Quinn said nothing more.

“What do you intend to do with her?”

“Sit on her.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere no one will find her.”

“South Armagh?”

Quinn was silent.

“We’d better let them know we’re coming.”

“No,” said Quinn. “No phones.”

“We can’t just show up on their doorstep.”

“Yes, we can.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m Eamon Quinn.”

Another PSNI unit was speeding toward them out of Downpatrick. Quinn lowered his face. Billy Conway clutched the wheel tightly in both hands.

“Why did you bring that girl back here, Eamon?”

“Breadcrumbs,” replied Quinn.

“For what?”

“Just drive, Billy. I’ll tell you the rest when we get to Bandit Country.”

71

THE ARDOYNE, WEST BELFAST