Danny Dempsey and the Unlikely Alliance (14 page)

They were only a few streets away from the pool hall, when Harrington decided to give Harry a bit of a surprise. He stopped abruptly, took his arm and pulled him into the darkness of a dimly lit alleyway.

Harry strained against him, but to no avail. ‘What the - -' he started to say, but got no further. Harrington released him after backing him against a wall, leaning both his hands against either side of Harry's shoulders to ensure he stayed exactly where he was. Harrington glanced anxiously towards the entrance to the alleyway, shaking his head in warning to Harry to remain quiet, while he cocked his ear and pretended to listen for something or other. Then he stepped back and emitted a long drawn out sigh of relief, as thought to indicate he thought the danger had passed.

‘What's going on, Brendan?' Harry asked softly, aware that something had spooked his meal ticket, having often found the need himself to duck into some dark laneway to avoid somebody he wasn't particularly keen on bumping into due to one thing and another. ‘Are we being tailed?'

‘We were, but I think I've given them the slip.' Harrington bit his lip, then gazed at Harry for a few seconds, looking like he was turning over something in his mind. ‘Look, Harry, I'm going to be honest with you here. I'm not who I've been pretending to be all along.'

Harry gulped. He didn't like the sound of that one little bit. It reminded him too much of the old days when he constantly had to watch his back all the time. ‘You mean you've been stringing
me
along?' he asked, hoping this Brendan guy, or whoever he was, wasn't some high-octane fruitcake. If he wasn't so darned big and broad shouldered, Harry would have clipped him in the jaw and made a run for it. ‘Who the hell are you, and what's going on here?'

‘I'm a private-eye, Harry. My name's Shamus O' Shaughnessy and I'm on a special assignment. I've been led to believe you can help me.'

Harry wasn't happy. His pride had been severely dented at the thought of being taken for a mug like this. At least the guy wasn't the Long Arm. Not, of course, Harry told himself, that he had anything to hide from them any more. Well, nothing that was going to get them running round in circles or bring out the heavy artillery to track him down. They didn't really care about him at this stage. They weren't going to lose any sleep over a couple of loaded dice and a bit of honest hustling. But still--. Harry couldn't help feeling like a prize chump that
anyone
had pulled a stunt like this on him. ‘And who told you that?' he asked, still miffed, but at the same time having a feeling if he could come up with the right answers, the five hundred might still be destined to wind up in his lap.

‘Sorry, but I'm not at liberty to reveal my sources,' Harrington replied gravely. ‘That's strictly confidential'

‘So, what do you want to know?' Harry asked, feeling out the lay of the land.

‘Any pointers you can give me about who's behind the kidnapping of the Governor of the Central Bank and his granddaughter.'

Harry knew all about that story. It was making headlines every day, blaring from the telly every time he turned it on. ‘Are you crazy or something? That's big league stuff. How am I supposed to - .'

‘I'm not asking you to lead me to their door. All I'm asking you is to try to remember if you've heard even a whisper in that direction. There's five hundred in it for you. You won't even have to go through all that malarkey with those doctored dice of yours. It'll buy you an awful lot of beer, Harry. Come on, think! But don't hand me any old guff just to get your hands on the cash. Remember, I know where to find you whenever I want to.'

Harry looked at him curiously. There was something funny about this Shamus/Brendan guy, or whoever he really was. Harry couldn't put his finger on it. But there was five hundred going abegging, and that seemed a good enough reason to tell him what he knew had come over the grapevine. ‘I don't know much,' Harry told him, conscious of the threat of being tracked down later if he handed the guy a heap of fairy stories. ‘But I'll tell you what it is if you promise to hand over the five hundred.'

‘And what would that be, Harry?'

‘There's no guarantee it'll be any use to you either.' Harry warned.

‘Try me.'

‘I didn't hear the magic words yet,' Harry reminded him.

Harrington took out the money and passed it over. Harry, to demonstrate his trust in human nature, stuffed it into his pocket without even counting it. ‘The word on the grapevine is it's so big a caper, there's only one outfit would be capable of pulling it off.' Harry said, ‘They go by the name of Moran Enterprises.'

Harrington looked puzzled. He was a policeman, and he'd never even heard of them. But at least it was a start. ‘What do you know about them?' he asked. ‘Not a lot,' Harry replied. ‘Personally, I haven't a clue, but that's how the grapevine has it. This guy was shooting off his mouth after he'd had a few too many a couple of months ago in one of the regular drinking dens in town. Boasting about this once in a lifetime snatch that would be coming on stream soon. Bragging about how he was part of the set-up. He let slip the name of the outfit. Then realised what he was after doing and threatened everyone in sight he'd come back and blow their heads off if they opened their mouths about what he'd said about Moran Enterprises.'

‘Did anybody know who he was?'

‘Sure, everybody did. He's a guy called Dapper Desmond. He used to be part of a gang of small-time heist merchants. He's done time over and over. Then he disappeared from the scene altogether. Suddenly he's back in one of his old haunts bragging about the snatch. Everyone thought he was just blowing hot air. Then, bingo, this big kidnapping comes along. And Dapper's disappeared again. Seems like he was telling the truth after all.'

‘It does, doesn't it,' Harrington said thoughtfully. ‘And from what you've told me, that was the first time any of your - er -
colleagues
ever heard of Moran Enterprises?'

‘First and last, Shamus,' Harry replied. ‘And if you do happen to stumble across them, you heard nothing about them from me. Deal?'

‘Deal, Harry,' Harrington assured him.

As they reached the top of the alley and were about to head off on their separate directions, Harry touched Harrington's arm and asked him who it was had been tailing him earlier. Harrington shrugged and told him it was probably only his imagination. Harry grinned and said maybe it was Brendan.

C
harlie thought he'd have some fun at Danny's expensive. He hadn't forgotten Danny splitting his sides giggling that day he'd been an eagle and Danny had jammed on the brakes to make him flap his wings frantically to prevent himself being flung beak-first into a ditch. Two could play at that game. The compound should be coming into sight soon, and Charlie had ceased flapping his enormous wings in order to attain the correct altitude for a smooth landing.

But just as they were gliding in over the rooftops, Charlie suddenly set his wings beating once more, pointed his huge reptilian head skywards and zoomed upwards like a rocket from its launching pad. Danny was taken by surprise to find himself in a horizontal position, the wind whipping into his face, making his eyes water, and his hair feel as though it was going to be torn from his scalp at any second. It was all he could do to cling on to Charlie's big scaly neck with his knees.

Then Charlie flew over to a nearby green space surrounded by houses and started looping the loop, whizzing round and round like a gigantic Catherine wheel, making Danny's feel as though he were in a washing machine. His stomach was churning, his head spinning, and he was in such a state of disorientation, he couldn't even summon up the words to order Charlie to revert to acting like the well-behaved pterodactyl he'd been up to this point. Sky and earth whipped past so quickly, Danny had given up trying to figure which way up or down he was after a while. He was too busy hanging on as best he could.

Then Charlie pulled out of the loop and started imitating a rocket again. Danny felt himself sliding downwards along Charlie's back, spiny scales digging into his behind as though he were being dragged backwards through thorn bushes. Charlie didn't seem to notice he was losing his passenger. It was ages since he'd felt so exhilarated. He continued to spiral upwards, wondering how long it would take to reach the moon before he actually realised Danny was no longer on board. It must have been the screech of terror that alerted him to the situation. Charlie looked down, and was horrified at what he saw. Danny was plummeting towards the ground, arms flapping like a bird in an effort to fly like one, but he wasn't making a very good job of it. Charlie nearly had a heart attack. Danny's attempts at skydiving didn't look very impressive.

Charlie sped downwards as though jet-propelled, his huge wings a black blur against the night sky. Danny was dropping like a stone now, with only six hundred feet between him and certain death. Charlie was frantic. Fast as he was propelling himself towards Danny, he knew he wasn't going to get there on time.

Then something extraordinary happened. About a hundred feet from being splattered into lifelessness, Danny's flight towards extinction came to an abrupt halt. It was as though some invisible puppet-master overhead had manipulated strings attached to Danny to stop him in his tracks. He just hung there motionless, suspended above the ground, his chin reposing on his chest, for all the world looking as though he was asleep. Charlie couldn't believe it.

He manoeuvred himself directly beneath Danny's dangling form, eased himself upwards with a gentle flutter of his jaded wings, until he was in a position where Danny could climb onto his back again. But nothing happened. Danny appeared to be unconscious.

Charlie didn't know what to do. If he moved from where he was, Danny might suddenly crash down the remaining distance and break his neck. Charlie was so overcome with guilt at what had happened, great big tears began falling from his eyes to splash down on the green space below. They continued to descend in a waterfall of grief, resulting in the area directly below looking as though it had been chosen to receive a sudden, isolated cloudburst, leaving the surrounding terrain perfectly dry.

‘Will you for heavens sake stop blubbering like a baby,' a voice came from beneath Charlie. ‘How do you expect me to help if I'm in danger of being drowned in this downpour?'

The voice sounded familiar, but Charlie couldn't quite place it. All he knew was that the last time he'd heard it, it had made him lose his temper. He couldn't make out who it was down there in the darkness. And he never wished more dearly before for anything than that he had the ability to communicate verbally with humans. He was unlike the other animals Danny conversed with on a regular basis. Charlie understood what people were saying, but was incapable of answering them. He sniffled back the tears as best he could, finally managing to put a stop to the waterfall.

‘That's better,' the voice rose up to him. ‘Now, just move aside so I can bring him down all the way.'

Charlie was at a loss. He'd never felt so helpless in his life before. If he did as he'd been requested, and Danny came down with a bang, he'd be the one responsible for whatever might happen to him. He was already responsible for the whole horrid situation, with his high jinks and his desire to get a little of his own back on Danny. But he'd gone too far. He turned his huge scaly head up towards Danny for guidance, but Danny's eyes were closed, his chin still resting on his chest, out to the world.

‘Look!' came the voice from the ground. ‘Do you want me to help or don't you? I can't even see him now with you hovering under him like that.'

Charlie decided the best thing to do was compromise. He folded his wings and settled down on the ground directly under Danny. That way, if Danny did fall, at least he'd have Charlie's body to land on. With a bit of luck, he'd just bounce off his back on to the grass, instead of impaling himself on a spiky scale. But it was a chance Charlie knew he had to take. He simply didn't know what else to do. He peered through the dark at the man who was quite close to him now, and immediately recognised him, despite the infra-red night-vision goggles he had strapped over his eyes.

‘That's better,' Mr. Pearson said. ‘Now I can finish what I've started.'

He didn't seem all that bothered that he was standing closer than might be good for his health to a prehistoric flying reptile. He'd been watching Charlie's aerobatic performance through the goggles earlier, and had decided that he was a bit of a show-off. Mr. Pearson didn't like show-offs. He'd been a bit surprised to come across the extraordinary spectacle as he was setting out on one of his research and development projects just as soon as his wife had gone asleep. His intention had been to carry out some further experiments with his latest gadget on owls and the like, but good fortune had directed him to a much more challenging task.

So far, everything had worked wonderfully. He hadn't even known it was Danny Dempsey until he'd frozen him in mid-air just in the nick of time. He'd been watching Charlie doing his impersonation of the Red Arrows only a few minutes after he'd left the house.

At first he thought he was imagining it, and had discovered the Loch Ness monster of the skies. He couldn't believe his luck. The owls could go hoot tonight for all he cared. If his latest creation worked on this overgrown bat, it should certainly do the same where his wife was concerned. It was moving so fast, though, it didn't look like it was going to be easy to score a direct hit on it with the beam.

It was when Mr. Pearson was adjusting his goggles properly to get a bead on the creature that he saw that there was someone clinging on for dear life, before slipping off and tumbling down in a flurry of failing limbs. It was then he'd sprung into action.

Now, he was about to complete his lifesaving mission, Charlie peering on anxiously, almost afraid to look to see how things would work out. But he needn't have worried. Mr. Pearson was in control of the situation. Well, almost. He pointed his creation at the suspended figure of Danny, his finger lingering for a few seconds over one of the buttons.

To be fair to Mr. Pearson, this was the first occasion on which he'd had the chance to carry out tests under real conditions. And he'd incorporated six buttons in all into this gadget. They were coloured differently, and it was taking him a while to remember the exact function of each particular button. He'd had to hurriedly press three or four of them in quick succession before the yellow one had stopped Danny's death dive.

Now, Mr. Pearson pressed gently on the green button, applying the minimum amount of pressure possible. It was just as well he hadn't jabbed it all the way down. Danny shot up another fifty feet into the air. Alarmed, Mr. Pearson quickly removed his finger from the button. The second he did so, Danny became static again. Mr. Pearson was concentrating so avidly now, he'd forgotten Charlie was even there. If anything bad happened to Danny, there was little doubt Charlie wouldn't be very long reminding Mr. Pearson he wasn't very far away.

The next button Mr. Pearson tried made Danny begin to swing from side to side like a human pendulum.
That
button was rapidly dispensed with. Mr. Pearson had to wait for a while before Danny stopped swinging. If looks could kill, Charlie's would long ago have been responsible for Mr. Pearson's death.

Mr. Pearson finally hit the correct combination. The red and the blue buttons did the trick. The red one had the effect in unfreezing Danny,
and
resulting in him becoming conscious once more. Although the yellow button had initially unfrozen Danny, it hadn't woken him up. Regaining his senses and finding himself plunging feet first towards the ground wasn't the way Danny would have wished to wake up every morning if he had any choice in the matter.

His heart was racing like wildfire, his mouth dry, his lungs about to explode. And he wasn't looking forward one little bit to coming into contact with Charlie's spines. And to make things worse, it all came back to him. He remembered sliding off Charlie ages ago. He must have blacked out in the meantime, then regained consciousness just as he was about to hit the ground.

He was bracing himself for the impact, eyes tightly shut and hoping he'd fall into a haystack or something to break his fall, when suddenly the tremendous pressure on his lungs disappeared, and the speed at which he was falling was miraculously reduced to a slow, graceful descent, as though the parachute he knew he didn't have on had suddenly opened above him. Danny had been preparing to have his legs shoot right up through his body and emerge somewhere around his shoulder-blades the second he hit Charlie's back. Instead, he found himself floating gently down to land on it like a feather.

Then he saw Mr. Pearson standing not very far away, busily engaged in manipulating his gadget, easing his finger off the blue button which had been responsible for bringing Danny safely to earth without so much as a scratch.

Danny couldn't get his head around the fact that this was the same Mr. Pearson he'd seen haring up the street some time ago in his tattered pyjamas, his wife in hot pursuit. This must surely be his twin brother, looking calm and composed, smiling from ear to ear in delight at the success he'd achieved. The only thing that made him look a little strange was the goggles he was wearing.

Danny still felt dazed after his experience. He was only vaguely aware that Charlie was bearing him over closer to where Mr. Pearson was standing. When he realised what was happening, he became alarmed. Mr. Pearson was still engrossed with his gadget, making adjustments here and there, re-setting the buttons, patiently ensuring that the master-switch underneath it was in the correct position.

Danny was about to hiss a command to Charlie not to go any nearer, when Mr. Pearson glanced up and saw them coming towards him. Instead of shaking in his shoes with fear as Danny had expected, Mr. Pearson's smile became even broader. Quick as a flash, he depressed the freeze button. Charlie and Danny immediately became immobile, two carved statues not moving a single muscle.

Mr. Pearson's whooped in delight, started hopping up and down on the spot. Then, finally feeling so overcome with ecstasy, he couldn't stop himself from twirling around in circles with the sheer joy of it all.

But he didn't stay dizzy for long. He removed his goggles and replaced them with a pair of spectacles. He couldn't suppress another whoop of delight at the thought of shooting his wife up into the air and leaving her hanging there for as long as he chose. He could even set her swinging like a pendulum if he felt like it.

After Mr Pearson calmed down, he brought Charlie out of his state of suspended animation. He decided he'd unfreeze Danny in another few minutes, wanting to see if he'd topple over when Charlie became mobile again. Mr. Pearson wasn't doing this with any malicious intent, he was merely carrying out the exercise as just another scientific study. Danny did fall off Charlie's back all right, but the reason he did so didn't do anything to further Mr. Pearson's research. Charlie was so anxious to thank him, he went down on his knees the second he got close enough, wrapped his wings around him in gratitude, then licked his face with his tongue. Naturally, Danny slid to the ground as this was taking place, totally oblivious that Mr. Pearson was wrapped in Charlie's embrace, and was having the face kissed off him.

‘All right! All right! All right!' Mr. Pearson managed to splutter good-humouredly, as his skin was being sandpapered in affection. ‘That's enough, thank you very much! Now please let me go, if you don't mind! I realise you're grateful, but this is ridiculous!'

Charlie instantly did as he'd been requested. This in itself was amazing. Danny was normally the only person on earth whose commands he'd obey. When there were other people within earshot, Danny only ever used Animal-Speak when issuing orders to Charlie. And he spoke to his other animal friends in the same manner for the same reason. But both he and they could also converse in English if they so wished.

Animals in general preferred humans to remain in ignorance of their ability to understand everyday language, and Danny respected their wishes for this to remain a secret. So Danny would have been hugely surprised had he been conscious to see Charlie back away immediately as soon as Mr. Pearson told him to. The tears of gratitude in Charlie's eyes would have been something of a mystery to him too. Later, after hearing of how Mr. Pearson had saved his life, he understood them only too well.