'Twelve of our gallant lads went down in just such an attempt last Friday,' said Kell. 'Including a dear personal
friend.'
'We heard,' Shelby sympathised. 'A tragedy, a tragedy.'
Bogroless nodded in agreement. Roker continued to
watch Kell, apparently unmoved by what he had heard.
'I understood that it was
INLA
men who attempted the
raids,' said Roker, speaking for the first time.
'Indeed it was,' said Kell. This operation is so important that we had decided to put aside our differences and work
together. It's that big.'
Shelby said with an air of unease, 'Actually, Comman
der
...
it is just possible that we could raise such a sum but
it would involve an all or nothing effort including a great
deal of borrowing. Not to put too fine a point on it, it would bleed
NORAID
dry. If the operation failed there would never
be any more . . .'
This will be the last operation for all of us,' said Kell.
That's what you have to convince us of,' said Shelby. 'Do
you really believe that the British would pull out of Ireland
in exchange for the boy?'
'Yes, I do.'
Roker interrupted. He had a cold featureless voice that
matched his appearance. He said, 'Mr Kell, there is a school
of thought that says that the British wouldn't stand for this and there would be a bloody civil war in Ireland instead of
the triumph you suggest. What do you say to that?'
'I think that they are right,’ said Kell to everyone's
obvious surprise. Even Roker permitted himself a raise of the eyebrows. Are you telling us that you would plunge Ireland into civil war deliberately?' he asked.
Kell shook his head slowly and smiled indulgently as if
teaching a class of infants. 'No,' he said. 'A lot of people are
missing the point. The British have covered the whole thing up. That works in our favour, don't you see? If the British
agree to our terms then the boy could be returned to them
without the press and the public ever knowing. They could
save face as well as get their brat back and we all know how
much that means to the British.'
The Americans saw the sense in what Kell was saying.
Shelby said, 'You mean the world at large would never know that they had given in to blackmail?'
'Exactly,’ said Kell, as if a pupil had finally managed to get
something right.
'What are the arrangements for the ransom?' asked
Roker.
Kell told him.
'If we were to agree we would have to be involved at all
stages and we would keep control of the money until we
were completely satisfied,’ said Roker.
'We could work together,’ said Kell.
'Excuse us a moment, Commander,’ said Shelby. The three
Americans moved to the adjoining room of the suite and
talked in whispers while Kell, Nelligan and Innes waited.
'What was that about losing a dear friend in the
INLA,
Mr
Kell?' whispered Nelligan quietly.
'Shut up,’ hissed Kell.
The Americans returned. Shelby stood in the middle of the
floor flanked by Bogroless and Roker. 'We agree,’ said Shelby.
'We'll finance it.'
‘
Then this calls for a celebration,’ said Kell. 'Nelligan! The
glasses.'
It was decided that Roker would handle negotiations on
behalf of
NORAID
and Innes would be sent to the States to represent the interests of the
IRA.
Kell suggested that Innes
return with the Americans to their own hotel so that he and
Roker could finalise details about the exchange.
‘
To a free Ireland,’ proposed Shelby with the final toast of
the evening. Kell smiled and raised his glass.
When the Americans had left, Nelligan asked if Kell
wanted any more whisky. Kell shook his head and said,
'We've got work to do. I want to speak to Harrigan in
England and then I want to see Reagan. But first, phone the
Long House . . . find out if the woman has called.'
Avedissian found that he could not sleep. He tossed and
turned for a while before getting up to look out at the
garden. It was bathed in moonlight and pale shadow, like a
scene from another planet where no man had ever trod.
The flowers had lost their colour and the trees their true
form to become abstracts in a dream. There was no
sound . . . save for a slight scraping sound, that came from
be-hind him! He turned round and saw the handle of the
door turn slowly.
Avedissian tip-toed quickly across the room to press
himself to the wall beside the door and wait for it to open.
His pulse rate was rising rapidly. As a shadowy figure en
tered the room Avedissian reached out his arm and circled it
round the figure's neck in a head lock. What he touched
was silky and soft and smelled sweetly of a perfume he
recognised. 'Kathleen!' he exclaimed. He relaxed his grip
and felt on the wall for the switch.
'No, don't put on the light.'
'I'm sorry, I didn't realise . . .'
'It was my fault. It was a silly thing to do.'
'Are you all right? Did I hurt you?' whispered Avedissian,
still holding her shoulders.
'I'm fine. I just feel stupid that's all.'
'But why? Why did you . . .?'
Kathleen looked up at Avedissian so that he could see her face in the moonlight coming from the window. 'It's silly. I
couldn't sleep. I thought we might talk, then I realised that
you would probably be sleeping so I thought I would look in
on you quietly to see.'
Avedissian smiled in the darkness and told her that he
hadn't been able to sleep either. He had been looking out of
the window.
'May I join you?'
'Of course.'
'It's peaceful,' murmured Kathleen.
'Just what I was thinking,’ agreed Avedissian. 'But when
there is nothing to distract you all your past mistakes return
to haunt you.
‘
The accusation of silence,’ said Kathleen.
'But now we each have a confessor,’ said Avedissian.
Kathleen smiled and pointed to a cat that was stealing
across the lawn in pursuit of some unseen prey. They
paused in their conversation to watch it then, when it had
disappeared into the bushes, Kathleen said, 'Me first?'
'If you like.’
'I wouldn't know where to begin, "Father", for I am
guilty of so many things. I feel sometimes as if I have lived
my entire life as a victim of circumstance. A willing victim
for I did nothing to change it.’
'Does that make you guilty of anything?' asked
Avedissian.
'I think so. I think if you see harm being done and do
nothing to prevent it it's almost as bad as doing it yourself,
perhaps even worse because then you can pretend that
you're entirely innocent.’
'Are you talking about your brother?' asked Avedissian.
'I suppose so. Don't get me wrong, I'm for a free Ireland
as much as he ever was. I want to see an end to all the
injustices of the North and I want to see the British out. It's
just that I lack conviction when it comes to the crunch.’
'I don't understand.’
'When Martin came to me, as he always did when he
needed someone, I was always there, but not because, as he
imagined, I shared his enthusiasm for what he was doing
but simply because he was my brother and I loved him.'
'That doesn't sound so bad to me,’ said Avedissian.
'But it was. Don't you see? I let him think that I agreed with him that there was no other way to achieve our ends, because my head told me that he was right, and still does.
It's just that my heart always told me that it was wrong and
it was a dreadful sin. I never told him that. I never tried to
convince him that I might have been right. I just opted out
and played the dutiful sister.'
'You are doing something positive now,' said Avedissian.
'I'm just a victim of circumstance again.'
'You needn't have agreed to come along,' Avedissian
pointed out.
Kathleen looked at Avedissian and smiled distantly. She said, 'You are a nice man, Avedissian. What kind of a name
is that anyway?'
'Armenian grandfather,' replied Avedissian.
'And what sins are you guilty of?' asked Kathleen.
Avedissian shrugged. 'Arrogance when I'm winning,
weakness when I'm losing.’
'You sound like the human race,’ said Kathleen.
'It's just a question of degree.'
Kathleen shivered and Avedissian put his arm round her.
He did it unsurely and there was an instant when she
stiffened, but it passed. She relaxed and laid her head
against his chest. 'It's been a long time since anyone held
me,’ she said.
I’m sorry. That shouldn't be.'
'Do you find me attractive?' Kathleen asked, sounding vulnerable.
'More than attractive. You’re beautiful.’
'I'm thirty-four years old.’
Avedissian kissed her hair and repeated what he had said.
'You see, there has been no one to tell me that for such a
long time.’ Kathleen looked up and Avedissian brought his
mouth down on hers, kissing her gently and feeling her lips
part, warm and moist.
Kathleen drew away slightly and put her hands against Avedissian's chest. 'I'm going back to my room now,’ she
whispered. 'Thank you for talking to me.’
Avedissian smiled and whispered, 'Good-night, Kathleen
O'Neill.’
He watched the door close and turned again to have a last
look at the garden before returning to bed. It had started to
rain, a few spots at first, then steadily. He got into bed and
listened to the sound of the drops striking the leaves.
Somewhere in the night an owl hooted but Avedissian felt
warm and comfortable and out of its reach.
SEVEN
The rain persisted throughout the following day. It
made Avedissian and Kathleen huddle down into their col
lars as they walked the short distance from the airport bus to
the steps of the TWA Boeing 747. David, to their relief,
seemed completely at ease with them, something that
Avedissian put down to Kathleen's winning way with
children. They had had only an hour with him and his real parents in a room at the airport but it had been sufficient.
The boy was happily clutching Kathleen's hand as he scaled,
what were for him, the giant steps to the rear entrance.
Almost at the same time the three Americans who had
met with Kell were boarding by the front steps. As
'Ambassador Class' passengers they would be unlikely to
come into contact with the Farmer family who were more
ordinary passengers, not that it would have mattered. They
didn't know each other. Fate's little joke would have been lost on both parties.
Two hours out across the Atlantic David fell asleep and Avedissian and Kathleen could talk without distraction.
Kathleen asked, 'Do you think we're going to the States
because the kidnappers are American?'