Sean Dillon 3-Book Collection 2 by Jack Higgins

Author:Jack Higgins [Jack Higgins]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2011-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Ten minutes later, he hung on a line from the stern rail, his two equipment bags trailing from his belt, aware of Billy leaning over the rail above him. They were in the shadows, the water very turbulent, and Dillon was conscious of the fierceness of the current. And then Billy called down to him and he let go the line.

He went down five or six feet and the force of the current was incredible, like a great hand seizing him in a relentless grip. He was thrown to the surface, was aware of the River Queen disappearing into the dark, of the lights of the Victorian lamps on the Terrace and then he went under again. A moment later he banged against the stonework of the Terrace, surfaced and cannoned into the scaffolding that dropped down into the water at the division of the Lords and Commons.

He hung there for a long moment and then unbuckled his inflatable and air tank and let the current take them. He did the same with his fins and mask, paused then started to climb. He went over the parapet, trailing his two equipment bags, and crouched in the shadows.

A door opened further along the Terrace and a security guard appeared. He walked forward and stood at the parapet and lit a cigarette, the smoke pungent on the damp air. Dillon waited for five agonizing minutes until finally the man tossed the stub of his cigarette into the river, turned and went back inside.

Dillon unfastened the lines of his equipment bags then unzipped his diving suit and stood there naked except for swimming trunks. He dropped the diving suit into the river then picked up the equipment bags and went to the side of the Terrace Bar where there were storerooms. He opened the small equipment bag, took out the Halogen lamp and opened the purse containing the picklocks. He switched on the lamp and went to work. It took him less than five minutes and the door opened.

He made a quick exploration. There were stacks of towels and tablecloths, cartons of wine glasses. There were also two toilets and a washbasin in another room at the rear. He opened the larger equipment bag, took out the clothes it contained and a towel he had put in. He dried himself thoroughly, took off the swimming trunks and dressed in the waiter’s clothes he had brought.

He checked his watch. It was now a quarter to four. Depending on what time the Terrace staff started, he had about four to five hours to kill. There was a sizeable stock cupboard with various kinds of linen inside. There was no key in the door so he locked it from the inside and arranged some piles of towels into a rough bed. It was surprising how cheerful he felt.

‘Harry will be pleased,’ he thought and fell almost instantly asleep.

He came awake with a start, aware of the door handle rattling. He glanced at his watch and saw it was almost nine o’clock.

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