Avedissian's mind reeled with the realisation that it had
not been the
IRA
who had blown up Jarvis at all. It must have
been Bryant's doing! It had been Bryant clearing up after a
particularly dirty operation. No witnesses were to be left
alive. He, Kathleen and the boy had been meant to die in
whatever car they had chosen to use.
Avedissian heard the doors to the hotel open and, from the
shadows, saw some men spill out onto the street.
'I could do with some fun,' said one of them loudly. These
conventions bore me stiff.'
'Let's see what Kansas City has to offer,' said another. Both
men had English accents.
'You're talking tomorrow, Miller,' said the first man.
'Better not get too well oiled. Still, if you're giving your usual
gall stones talk it won't matter too much.'
'Bloody cheek!'
So that's who they were, thought Avedissian, doctors here
for the convention. Laughter broke out among them as one
of the Americans in the party suggested what they might do
for their night out.
'She picks it up with
what?'
exclaimed one of the party.
'As a gynaecologist I suppose I should display a pro
fessional interest!' said another.
‘
I'm a married man!' protested one of the Englishmen, provoking another round of laughter.
Avedissian thought of a risky idea, but he was desperate
and if the hotel was full of out-of-town doctors it might work. He straightened
his tie, brushed himself down briefly with his hands and
walked in through the door of the Rainbow Inn, to find the
lobby as crowded as he had hoped. He gave himself a few moments to acquaint himself with the geography of the place
then approached the desk.
'How may I help you, sir?' said a middle-aged woman,
with spectacles hanging round her neck from a heavy gold
chain. Her smile looked as if it had been applied with her
make-up.
'I'd like my room key,' said Avedissian sheepishly.
‘
The number, sir?'
'You're going to think this awfully silly,’ said Avedissian
with an embarrassed shrug and some emphasis on the En
glishness of his speech, 'I feel so stupid but the fact is
...
I've forgotten.'
The smile did not waver. 'Your name, sir?'
'Miller. Dr Miller,' replied Avedissian with an attempt at a
smile. Please, God, Miller was not one of the delegates that
she knew.
A scarlet nail traced a line down the room register and the woman said, 'You are in room 293, sir.' She handed him the
key.
'Of course, how stupid of me,' exclaimed Avedissian. 'Thank you so much.'
'You are welcome.'
Avedissian headed for the stairs, half euphoric, half
terrified that at any second the woman would call out behind
him. His pulse continued to race as he let himself into room
293 and switched on the light. He found what he was looking
for almost immediately: Miller's medical bag. It was under the dressing-table beside his suitcase, and a slim plastic
document case that bore the logo of the convention.
Avedissian opened the bag and examined the contents. 'God
bless you, Miller,' he muttered. It contained everything that
he needed.
The boy had come round when Avedissian got back to the
restaurant. He was cuddling into Kathleen who was soothing
him, but Avedissian saw him go rigid as he approached.
There was terror in his eyes and Avedissian knew that he was the cause of it. He felt angry and impotent for there seemed to
be no quick way to convince the child that he had done what
he had done out of concern for his welfare. No child had ever
looked at him like that before. It was something that he
would remember.
'Where have you been? I thought something had happened to you,' whispered Kathleen anxiously. 'Did you get the
car?'
Avedissian told her why he had not got the car and saw her
go pale. 'I don't understand,' she said. 'Why?'
'I suppose we were expendable, to use your word.'
Kathleen looked at the case that Avedissian had returned
with.
'Medical. I borrowed it,' said Avedissian. He put his hand
out gently to touch the boy's head but the child shrank from
him and Kathleen had to reassure him again. 'I can't say I
blame you, old son,' said Avedissian quietly.
'What do we do?' asked Kathleen with an air of
hopelessness.
'We'll have to find somewhere for the night. I'll have to
dress the boy's neck properly then we will have to make
plans,’ replied Avedissian. 'Let's get started.'
The boy, still terrified of Avedissian, would not come to
him when he tried to take him from Kathleen. 'Just leave
him,’ said Kathleen.
'But he's too heavy,’ said Avedissian.
'I can manage.’
Tension grew as they failed to find a cab until, in desper
ation, Avedissian said, ‘There's a bus coming. We'll take it.’
The doors of the bus opened with a hydraulic hiss and they
climbed on board. The driver was black; all the passengers
were black. They regarded the three white interlopers with
indifference.
'Kid's out late,’ said the driver as Avedissian fumbled in his
pocket for change. He ignored the comment and said, 'We
want to go to the main bus depot.’
‘
Transfer at point four,’ said the driver.
'Will you tell us?'
'Sure.’
The seats were hard, the lights were dim and there was an
almost overpowering smell of diesel fuel. Overhead,
advertising placards were interspersed with warnings
spelling out the penalties for armed robbery. A notice near
the driver declared that he personally carried no money; all
fares were deposited automatically in a locked compartment
to which he had no access.
The mention of money made Avedissian consider his own financial position. How much cash did he have? The answer
did nothing to raise his spirits. But he did have a credit card.
They got off the bus and watched it draw away from the
kerb.
'What was all that about the bus station?' asked Kathleen.
'A red herring,’ replied Avedissian. 'Three white faces on an all-black bus. Just too easy to trace.'
They headed off in the opposite direction from the bus station and found the Blue Ranch Motel. It had seen better days, either that or it had always been seedy, but it had a
'Vacancies' sign above the entrance and all three of them
were exhausted. The proprietor, attired in a vest that
faithfully followed the rolls of flab about his middle, did not
move as they entered but simply raised his eyes, giving the impression that their arrival was only going to be a very temporary interruption to his magazine reading. Avedissian
could see that the lady on the cover was wearing a football helmet but little else.
'Number twelve, thirty dollars, pay in advance,' said the
man, slapping down a key on the desk in front of him.
Avedissian paid and asked, 'Where do we find number twelve?’
The man stabbed a forefinger to his right without looking
up from the magazine.
'God, what a place,' sighed Avedissian when they had left
the office and were making their way along the row of
chalets. Kathleen could not argue. The smell of barbecue
sauce, which seemed to pervade Kansas City, gave way to the
scent of cheap perfume when they finally found number
twelve and stepped inside.
They looked around, expecting the worst, but found it
better than they had feared. Kathleen turned down one of
the bed covers and looked at the linen. 'Good,' she said. 'I
half expected to find it still warm.'
Avedissian drew the curtains and opened the medical case
that he had taken from the Inn. He took out what he needed and laid it out in order on a bedside table. 'I have to look at
the boy's neck,' he said quietly to Kathleen.
'It's not going to be easy,' she replied. 'But we'll try.' She
smiled at the child and spoke to him all the time as she gently teased away the temporary dressing from his neck. At first he
was uncertain but confidence started to grow in him. It lasted
until it became clear that Avedissian was going to touch him
again, then fear returned to his eyes and he drew close to
Kathleen. She cuddled him and whispered yet more
reassurance.
'It will have to be done,' whispered Avedissian.
Kathleen laid the boy gently back on the bed and took Avedissian's hand. She held it to her cheek in a gesture of
trust for the child's benefit. The boy looked puzzled so she
repeated the gesture, nodding as she did so.
It took some little time but the child eventually decided to
give Avedissian another chance. He did not draw away when Avedissian made to examine his neck but his small body was
rigid with uncertainty.
'Is it bad?' asked Kathleen.
'No,' replied Avedissian. The implant was just under the
skin but I'll have to put in a couple of stitches to keep the
edges together.'
'More pain?'
'A little, but nothing like last time.'
Kathleen held the boy while Avedissian did what he had to
and then breathed a sigh of relief. 'It's done,' he said. He
rubbed the child's hand and said, 'Well done. You were very
brave.' The child stared at him blankly.
Avedissian took a bottle of red liquid from the table and poured some out on a spoon. This elixir will help him sleep,'
he said to Kathleen. 'It tastes nice too.'
Kathleen encouraged the boy to accept it and was rew
arded by a ghost of a smile. 'It's bed for you,’ she
whispered, giving the boy another hug.
When Kathleen had tucked the child safely into bed she
returned to Avedissian. Now free of the need to play-act for the child's benefit, her face showed all the signs of the strain
that she felt. 'What on earth are we going to do?' she asked.
'Our first priority is to get out of Kansas City,' replied
Avedissian. 'We have to get away from
NORAID.
A couple
with British accents and moving around with a child are not
going to be too difficult to trace, and they must want us pretty
badly.'
'If only they knew that the boy was not the royal child,’
said Kathleen.
'Right now it wouldn't make that much difference,’ said
Avedissian. They think that we killed Roker and Shelby as
well as the other two.'
Kathleen asked about 'the other two' and Avedissian told
her what had happened during the chase. 'What a mess,’ she sighed, nervously wringing her hands. 'It's all gone wrong.'
Avedissian found the comment strange but, at that
moment, the boy moved in his sleep and Kathleen went to check on him. Avedissian watched while she settled him again. 'We'll try to make for Chicago,’ he said. 'It has a big
airport. Maybe we can slip through after a few days.’
'How do we get there? They'll be watching all the stations.’
'We'll have to get a car.’