The Night Manager полностью

And they were right, absolutely right. And when Major Corkoran called Miss Amelia over the satcom to book the terrace table, Burr and Strelski could have hugged each other, which was what the team said they were doing these days anyway.

* * *

It was not till around eleven-thirty in the evening of the day itself that they felt the first stirrings of unease. The operation had been scheduled for 2303 hours, or as soon as the crab races had begun. The holdup, the climb to the kitchen, the descent to Goose Neck, had never taken more than twelve minutes in rehearsal. Why on earth hadn't Mike and Gerry signalled "mission accomplished"?

Then the red alarm lit up. Standing with folded arms at the centre of the communications room, Burr and Strelski listened to the playback of Corkoran's voice talking in fast order to the ship's captain, the ship's helicopter pilot, Doctors Hospital in Nassau and, lastly. Dr. Rudolf Marti at his home in Windermere Cay. Corkoran's voice was already a warning. It was cool and steady under fire:

"The Chief appreciates you're not in the first-aid business, Dr. Marti. But the skull and side of the face are severely fractured, and the Chief believes they'll have to be rebuilt. And the hospital needs a doctor to refer the patient to them. The Chief would like you waiting at the hospital when he arrives, and he will wish to compensate you generously for your trouble. May I tell him you'll be there?"

A fractured skull and side of face? Rebuilt? What the hell had Mike and Gerry got up to? The relationship between Burr and Strelski was already strained by the time a call from Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami had them racing there by flashing light, with Flynn riding alongside the driver. When they arrived, Mike was still in the operating theatre. Gerry, grey with anger, was chain-smoking in the waiting room, wearing his navy life jacket.

"Fuckin" animal crucified Mike in the fuckin' door," Gerry said.

"So what did he do to you, Gerry?" Flynn asked.

"To me, nothin'."

"What did you do to him?"

"Kissed him on the fuckin' mouth. What do you think, dickhead?"

Then Flynn picked Gerry straight off his chair as if he were a rude child and slapped him hard once across the face, then sat him down again in the same indolent attitude as before.

"You whip him, Gerry?" Flynn asked kindly.

"Fucker went crazy. Played it for real. Held a fuckin' carving knife to Mike's throat, got his arm in the fuckin' door like he's choppin' firewood."

They returned to the operations room in time to listen to Daniel talking to his mother in England over the Pasha's satcom.

"Mums, it's me. I'm all right. I really am."

Long silence while she wakes up.

"Daniel? Darling, you haven't come back to England, have you?"

"I'm on the Pasha, Mums."

"Daniel, really. Do you know the time? Where's your father?"

"I didn't get the crabs out of the basket, Mums. I chickened. They make me sick. I'm all right, Mums. Honestly."

"Danny?"

"Yes?"

"Danny, what are you trying to tell me?"

"Only we were on Hunter's Island, you see, Mums. There was this man who smelled of garlic and took me prisoner, and another man who took Jed's necklace. But the cook saved me and they let me go."

"Daniel, is your father there?"

"Paula. Hi. Sorry about that. He was determined to tell you he's okay. We got held up at gunpoint by a couple of thugs at Mama Low's. Dans was taken hostage for ten minutes, but he's totally unharmed."

"Wait," said Paula. Like his son before him, Roper waited for her to collect herself. "Daniel's been kidnapped and released. But he's all right. Now go on."

"They marched him up the path to the kitchen. Remember the kitchen, up the path on the hill?"

"You're sure all this happened, are you? We all know Daniel's stories."

"Yes, of course I'm sure. I saw it."

"At gunpoint? They marched him up a hill at gunpoint? A boy of eight?"

"They were going for the cash in the kitchen. But there was this cook up there, a white chap, who had a go at them. He winged one, but the other one came back, and they beat him up while Daniel escaped. God knows what would have happened if they'd taken Dans with them, but they didn't. All over now. We even got the loot back. Thank God for cooks. Come on, Dans, tell her how we're giving you the Victoria Cross for gallantry. Here he is again."

* * *

It was five in the morning. Burr sat motionless as a Buddha at his desk. Rooke smoked his pipe and wrestled with the Miami Herald crossword. Burr let the phone ring several times before he was able to pick it up.

"Leonard?" said Goodhew's voice.

"Hullo, Rex."

"Did something go wrong? I thought you were going to ring me. You sound as if you're in shock. Did they swallow the bait, then? Leonard?"

"Oh, they swallowed it, all right."

"So what's wrong? You don't sound victorious, you sound funereal. What happened?"

"I'm just trying to work out whether we're still holding the rod."