Sean Dillon 22 - The Midnight Bell by Jack Higgins

Author:Jack Higgins
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-11-14T13:44:14+00:00

9

HUNTER WAS RUSHED OFF for X-rays, and Maggie Duncan put an arm about Sara.

“There’s only one place for you, bed. You look like a walking corpse.”

“I don’t know about Daniel, but I feel like one,” Dillon told her. “Having said that, we all drank too much coffee on the trip so a nice cup of tea would go down a treat before we retire. It’s an old Irish remedy that our friends across the Atlantic have failed to learn.”

“Well, go and wait in reception, and I’ll have one of the girls bring some from the kitchen, but after that, it’s bed for the three of you.” They did as they were told and were drinking tea when Bellamy appeared in theater scrubs looking grave, Maggie standing behind him,

“Go on,” Sara said. “Tell us the worst.”

“That army sergeant was good, and right on the button with his diagnosis. Severe damage to the upper area of the lung on the left side. He must have pushed you down, Sara, and received the bullet at point-blank range. You were quite right; he certainly saved your life.”

“Yes, I was aware of that, Professor.”

“Slight tearing to the left side of the heart and considerable splintering of the left shoulder bone. I’ll do what I can, but it’s going to take some of my best work.”

“How long?”

“Between three or four hours in theater and probably a year of therapy after that, but, for God’s sake, Sara, you look as if you might faint at any moment. Bed for you.”

Maggie stepped in and put an arm around her. “Just through this door, room three.” As they moved, Maggie looked over her shoulder at Dillon and Holley. “Four and five for you, and don’t be stupid, let it happen.”

—

IT HAD RAINED most of the night in London, drifting across Mayfair and rattling the shutters of Kate Munro’s bedroom in the early Victorian town house called Munro Place at the end of Green Street, with its wonderful views across to Hyde Park.

Originally the home of a great-aunt, a well-known suffragette in her day, it had passed on through the family with the proviso that it should never be sold, only inherited, and the death of Kate’s parents on a Spanish holiday brought ownership to her, the good thing being that she had lived there since childhood. The fact that soaring London prices meant that it was now worth millions was something to be endured, especially when one considered that the narrow flagged path giving access to the rear garden was barely wide enough to park Kate’s Mini.

A maiden aunt, her mother’s sister, Molly, had moved in while Kate went to St. Hugh’s College, Oxford, where she studied geography, geology, and archeology, enjoying life in the open air and managing to describe her travels well enough to create a reputation as a freelance writer whose work was sought after.

The events at Hedley Court had been unlooked for. She had not attended with the intention of writing a piece. She’d simply

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