A Prayer for the Dying (v5) (19 page)

He leaned against the rail for support, suddenly strangely tired, his arm really hurting now, and gestured with the Ceska.

'All right, untie him.'

Meehan did as he was told reluctantly and the moment he was free, Father da Costa untied Anna. He turned to Fallon, concern in his voice. 'Are you all right?'

Fallon kept all his attention on Meehan. 'The bomb? Have you set the fuse?'

'Get stuffed,' Meehan told him.

'Bomb?' Father da Costa demanded.

'Yes,' Fallon said. 'Did he have a bag with him?'

'Over there,' Father da Costa pointed to where the canvas holdall stood in the shadows.

'All right,' Fallon said, 'You'd better get Anna out of here fast and I mean out. If that thing goes off it will bring the whole church down like a house of cards.'

Father da Costa didn't even hesitate. He grabbed Anna by the arm and guided her towards the hoist, but she pulled free and turned towards Fallon. 'Martin!' she cried and caught at his trenchcoat. 'We can't go without you.'

'The cage only takes two at a time,' he said. 'Be sensible.'

There was blood on her hand from his sleeve and she held it close to her face as if trying to see it. 'Oh my God,' she whispered.

Father da Costa put an arm around her shoulders and said to Fallon, 'You're hurt.'

'You're running out of time,' Fallon said patiently.

Father da Costa pushed Anna inside the cage and followed her in. As he pressed the button to descend he called through the bars, 'I'll be back, Martin, Wait for me.'

His voice was swallowed up by darkness and Fallon turned to Meehan and smiled, 'You and me, Jack at the final end of things. Isn't that something? We can go to hell together.'

'You're mad,' Meehan said. 'I'm not waiting here to die. I'm going to get rid of this thing.'

He moved towards the holdall and Fallon raised the Ceska threateningly. 'I've had experience, remember? At this stage it'll go up at the slightest touch.' He chuckled. 'I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll leave it with God. If the cage gets back in time, we leave. If not...'

'You raving bloody lunatic.' Meehan was shouting now.

Fallon said calmly, 'By the way, I've just remembered I've got something for you.' He produced a crumpled white card with a black border and held it out.

Meehan said, 'What in hell is that supposed to be?'

'A Rest-in-Peace card, isn't that what you call them? It's for Billy. Plot number five hundred and eighty-two at Pine Trees.'

Meehan seemed stunned. 'You're lying.'

Fallon shook his head. 'I killed him last night because he tried to rape Anna da Costa. I took him up to the crematorium and put him through the whole process, just like you showed me. Last I saw of your brother, he was five pounds of grey ash scattered across damp grass.'

Meehan seemed to break into a thousand pieces. 'Billy!' he screamed and went for Fallon, head down.

Fallon pulled the trigger of the Ceska. There was a dull click and then Meehan was on him, smashing him back against the guard rail. It splintered, sagged, then gave way and Fallon went over the edge into space. He hit the canvas tarpaulin stretched over the hole in the roof and went straight through.

Meehan turned and reached for the holdall. As he picked it up and turned to throw it out into the darkness, it exploded.

As Father da Costa and Anna went out of the door into the street, two police cars arrived at speed. Miller scrambled out of the first one and hurried towards them. As he put a foot on the first step leading up to the porch, the bomb exploded.

The effect was extraordinary, for the whole church started to fall in, almost in slow motion, first the tower, the steel scaffolding crumpling around it, and then the roof.

Miller grabbed Anna's other arm and he and Father da Costa ran her down into the safety of the street between them. As they reached the cars, a scaffolding pole rebounded from the wall of the warehouse above their heads and everyone ducked.

Father da Costa was first on his feet and stood, fists clenched, gazing up at the church. As the dust cleared, he saw that most of the walls and the rear entrance porch were still standing.

A young constable came forward from one of the police cars holding a spot lamp and Father da Costa simply took it from him and turned to Miller. 'I'm going back in.'

He started forward and Miller grabbed him by the arm. 'You must be crazy.'

'Fallon was in there,' Father da Costa said. 'He saved us, don't you understand? He might still be alive. I must know.'

'Fallon?' Miller said in astonishment. 'My God, so it was Fallon all the time.'

Father da Costa hurried up the steps to the porch and pushed open the door. The scene inside was incredible. Holy Name was finished; at the end of things at last, but the worst damage was by the tower or what was left of it.

Father da Costa went up the central aisle, flashing the spot before him. The area in front of the altar where the tower and roof had come down together was a mountain of bricks and mortar.

The spot picked out something inside. It could have been a face, he wasn't sure. There seemed to be a tunnel of sorts. He got down on his hands and knees and started to crawl through, holding the spot before him.

He found Fallon at the end of the tunnel, only his head and shoulders exposed. The figure of Christ on the cross, the large one which had stood by the altar, had fallen across him protectingly, at least for the moment.

Father da Costa crouched beside him and the great cross sagged under the weight it was holding and dust descended on his head.

'Martin?' he said. 'Can you hear me?'

There was a scraping sound behind him as Miller arrived. 'For God's sake, Father,' he said, 'We must get out of here. The whole damn lot might come down at any moment.'

Father da Costa ignored him. 'Martin?'

Fallon opened his eyes. 'Did you get Anna out?'

'I did, Martin.'

'That's all right, then. I'm sorry. Sorry for everything.'

The cross sagged a little more, stones and rubble cascaded over Father da Costa's back and he leaned across Fallon to protect him.

'Martin.' he said. 'Can you hear me?' Fallon opened his eyes. 'I want you to make an act of contrition. Say after me: my God, who art infinitely good in Thyself...'

'O my God,' Martin Fallon said and died.

There was a long silence. Even that mass of rubble and debris seemed to have stopped moving. For some strange reason Miller suddenly felt as if he didn't belong, as if he had no right to be there. He turned and started to crawl out.

Behind him, Father Michael da Costa got down on his knees, head bowed beneath that frail roof, and started to pray for the soul of the man who had called himself Martin Fallon.

A Biography of Jack Higgins

Jack Higgins is the pseudonym of Harry Patterson (b. 1929), the
New York Times
bestselling author of more than seventy thrillers, including
The Eagle Has Landed
and
The Wolf at the Door
. His books have sold more than 250 million copies worldwide.

Born in Newcastle upon Tyne, England, Patterson grew up in Belfast, Northern Ireland. As a child, Patterson was a voracious reader and later credited his passion for reading with fueling his creative drive to be an author. His upbringing in Belfast also exposed him to the political and religious violence that characterized the city at the time. At seven years old, Patterson was caught in gunfire while riding a tram, and later was in a Belfast movie theater when it was bombed. Though he escaped from both attacks unharmed, the turmoil in Northern Ireland would later become a significant influence in his books, many of which prominently feature the Irish Republican Army. After attending grammar school and college in Leeds, England, Patterson joined the British Army and served two years in the Household Cavalry, from 1947 to 1949, stationed along the East German border. He was considered an expert sharpshooter.

Following his military service, Patterson earned a degree in sociology from the London School of Economics, which led to teaching jobs at two English colleges. In 1959, while teaching at James Graham College, Patterson began writing novels, including some under the alias James Graham. As his popularity grew, Patterson left teaching to write full time. With the 1975 publication of the international blockbuster
The Eagle Has Landed
, which was later made into a movie of the same name starring Michael Caine, Patterson became a regular fixture on bestseller lists. His books draw heavily from history and include prominent figures--such as John Dillinger--and often center around significant events from such conflicts as World War II, the Korean War, and the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Patterson lives in Jersey, in the Channel Islands.