She waved me into silence; I guess it was a rhetorical question. As we made our way through town to Roxborough Road and the N21, she brought me up to date on a few things.
“Good thing my contacts at SDU were keeping an eye on Mr. Graham here, or you might be in even worse trouble than you already are.” I glanced in the mirror at Rob. “Hey, major league, minor league. I do what I can.”
Siobhan cut in. “Not his fault, lucky for you. I had no idea you’d go back to the good Mr. Wheeler, who fortunately has a very, very clean history.” “Why thank you!” from the back seat. “When you made your daring escape yesterday—shut it! I’ll tell you when you talk. When you slipped out yesterday, I’d made sure we had plenty of elbow room, so there was no one watching you but me. Believe me, I got an earful about that after all the arrangements they’ve made at N.B.C.I. to help me on this one.”
I managed to keep my mouth shut.
“I’ve spent the night with N.B.C.I. and SDU rearranging some of those arrangements, now that we’ve got more baggage to lug around. Uh-uh,” with a wagging finger at the occupants of the back seat. “You two have given me enough trouble. Until I say otherwise, you’re baggage.” I don’t know what she’d done to them, but I’ve never seen Rob sit meekly by while someone else called the shots. Mossie seemed to be enjoying it all as if we were filming a TV series.
“When these two came down from your room this morning, they were taken aside and, shall we say, updated on the situation? I know what you think of me, but I assume you still trust Mr. Graham, and you seem to have some childlike faith in Mr. Wheeler’s gift, so hopefully you’ll accept their word that I’m trying to help you, God knows why.” Another glance at the back seat; Rob was nodding, slowly; Mossie was grinning like he was on a field trip from school.
“We’ve ‘leaked’ the information that you escaped from me, and added implications that we still wanted to question you regarding O’Quinn’s death and a certain sum of money you had come into during your quite illegal stay on our emerald shores.”
I risked a question. A statement, really. “I’m the bait in your trap for Conor Dubin.”
She smiled. It was like watching a shark swallow a baby seal. I really badly did not want to be on the wrong side of Siobhan Quinlan any more. I also didn’t want to get slugged again, so I decided not to risk any more question statement things.
“Here’s how it’s going to happen . . . “
But the more she told me, the less I wanted to hear.