Avedissian examined Kathleen. She was still sleeping
peacefully and mercifully free of pain after her ordeal thanks
to the analgesics. He lifted one of her eyelids and saw that she
was not too deeply sedated for her to be brought round when
they had to leave. She groaned and moved her face away in response to him touching her eyes. Avedissian looked at
Drummond lying on the floor and said, 'I think I'll give him a
shot to make sure he stays out for the next few hours.' He
gave the unconscious man an injection.
O'Neill said, 'I think it's time. Shall we risk it?'
Avedissian felt his stomach go into knots again but he
nodded and said, 'Let's check it out.'
They left Kathleen in the cell, while they crept along the passage towards the duty room, their hopes increasing with
the fact that they could hear no sound at all coming from
within. O'Neill found it difficult to put his faith in the power
of drugs so it was Avedissian who finally put his hand on the
handle of the duty room door and turned it slowly open.
Two men lay slumped over the table, a third lay on the
floor where he had fallen off his seat. O'Neill unlocked the door to the head of the stairs but still continued to rummage
around. Avedissian asked him what he was doing.
'I'm looking for some clue to what the little bastard is up
to,' replied O'Neill. 'He could still start a civil war.'
Avedissian helped O'Neill in the search but when, after
five minutes, they had drawn a blank he suggested that they
stop.
'Let's try Kell's room,' said O'Neill. He looked down at the
unconscious men and said, 'I take it they will be out for
some time?'
'A long time,’ replied Avedissian.
'Look at this,’ said O'Neill, handing Avedissian a piece of
paper. It was a photocopy of a map. Ordnance Survey,
thought Avedissian, and said so to O'Neill.. He had recog
nised the style but not the area. There was a circle round a village called Valham. 'Mean anything?' asked O'Neill.
'Nothing, but let's take it.'
O'Neill asked Avedissian to help him put back the medical
boxes in the sick room and drag the unconscious
Drummond along to join the others. 'I don't want him
getting all the blame for this,’ he said. Avedissian liked the
gesture. This done, they brought Kathleen round and helped
her along the passage and up the stairs.
They were out in the Belfast night. The streets were wet but it had stopped raining and the air had never smelled so
good to them. For Avedissian, at least, the smell of freedom became a reality.
There was no real decision to be made. Their first objective
had to be to get out of the country, for Ireland was no longer a
place for any of them. Avedissian suggested that they should
make for his flat in London. Any new plans could be made from there. It was agreed.
Avedissian's worry that the O'Neills might have trouble
with heightened security on the Ireland-England routes
proved to be unfounded. There had been no
IRA
action for
some time and memories are short even with the best of intentions. They made the crossing unhindered.
THIRTEEN
It was not until a London taxi driver gave them a second look that Avedissian realised how dirty and dishevelled they must seem. Up until then, their thoughts had
been solely concerned with escape so it was only now, in the
depths of London traffic, that they could relax a little and consider that they had really done it. They had escaped from the clutches of Finbarr Kell.
Avedissian looked at Kathleen as they waited at traffic lights and saw the pain lines round her eyes. She had not
complained at all since leaving Belfast but he knew that the
effects of the pain-killer he had given her must have worn off
some hours ago. He asked her gently if it was bad. She smiled
at him and said that she was all right, he was not to worry.
They drank whisky when they got into Avedissian's flat
while they waited for an immersion heater to provide hot
water. No one said anything about it only being eleven in the
morning. For the moment time was unimportant; they
needed a drink.
Avedissian let the O'Neills bathe first while he scavenged
through the kitchen cupboards and found whatever tinned
food there was to prepare a passable meal, then he dressed
Kathleen's burns before cleaning himself up and settling down to eat.
'God, I feel better,' said O'Neill and they all agreed. O'Neill
was all right in the clothes that Avedissian had given him but
Kathleen looked like a waif from the storm in a shirt that swamped her and jeans bunched up into pleats at the waist.
Their anxiety had subsided, they had cleaned up and they had eaten. It was time to talk about what they were going to do next. All were agreed that everything had to take second
place to finding out what Kell was up to and stopping him if
at all possible. At the moment the best they could do would
be to warn the authorities that a big
IRA
operation was
under way in England.
'What's the way to do that?' asked Avedissian.
'We could warn them by phone,' said Kathleen.
'Would they believe us? Wouldn't they ask for some kind of identification?'
'More than that, they would want to know what the
operation involved and who and what were at risk,' said
O'Neill.
'And we couldn't tell them because we don't know,'
added Avedissian.
'But if Martin told them who he was they might take the warning seriously,' suggested Kathleen.
'Martin O'Neill is dead as far as the authorities are con
cerned,' said Avedissian. 'The call would be dismissed as a
hoax.'
They considered for a moment before Avedissian said,
'There is one person who would believe that we were telling
the truth.'
'Who?'
'Bryant.'
Kathleen looked down at the table and fidgeted
nervously. 'I couldn't bear to face that man again,' she said in a whisper.
Avedissian put a hand on her shoulder and said quietly, 'I
feel the same. I've got a score to settle with that rat, but we
must think rationally. Bryant has the resources to stop Kell.'
'How would you get to Bryant?' asked O'Neill.
'I've had cause to think about that a lot,’ replied
Avedissian. 'Officially I have no way of reaching him but
unofficially I think I can do it.'
'Go on,’ said O'Neill.
'When I was taken to see Bryant in London I had to wait in
a room that looked out into a lane. It was night-time and
there was a neon sign on the building opposite. It said Staplex
Bindings. If I can get their address from the phone book I
think I can find the building that Bryant uses.'
'That's worth a try,’ said O'Neill.
Kathleen, unable to contemplate the prospect of becoming involved with Bryant again, stayed silent.
Avedissian looked up the phone book and said, 'I've got it.'
'Do you want us to go too?' asked O'Neill.
Avedissian shook his head and said, 'It's best if I go alone. There's no time to lose. You and Kathleen can get to work on
that map we took from Kell's room. Find out where that
village is and what is special about it.’
'We'll get some clothes too,’ said O'Neill.
'Be careful,’ said Kathleen as Avedissian prepared to leave.
He kissed her and told her there was no need to worry. He
would be back soon.
Avedissian took a taxi to the Staplex works. It was a
journey of about fifteen minutes but would have been
shorter had it not been for heavy traffic. He crossed the road
and walked past the building until he came to the entrance to
the lane he remembered. He looked at the neon sign above
the goods entrance and then at the building opposite. It
seemed dark and featureless, just another anonymous
building, but there, on the third floor, was a window with a
large plant in it. It was the room where he had been asked to
wait on the night he had been brought from the training
school at Llangern.
Avedissian walked up one side of the lane and came back
on the other, casually looking at the doors leading into the
building. All were securely locked. But maybe that was all to
the good, he thought. His best plan would be to wait for Bryant either to enter or leave the building. That way the
element of surprise would remain with him. If he were to go
in blind he would be playing a game where he was an
amateur among professionals.
Avedissian grew tired of waiting. It had been over three
hours and still no one had entered or left. He began to have
visions of the building being empty. Perhaps it was only used
on odd occasions, not on a regular basis at all. He had almost
convinced himself that this was the case when at five-thirty,
the front door opened and a woman came out. He recognised
her. It was Sarah Milek, the secretary he had first met at
Cambridge.
Sarah. Milek walked down the lane and turned left, with
Avedissian some thirty metres behind. She turned left again
into another narrow lane and approached a line of lock-up
garages before pausing to search in her handbag for the key to
one of the doors. Avedissian waited until she had opened it
and was lifting up the door before running up behind her and
hustling her inside. He clamped his hand over her mouth to
stifle her scream and whispered in her ear. 'Don't panic, Miss
Milek. It's an old friend. Remember me?' He took his hand
away.
'You!' gasped Sarah Milek.
'Surprised? Could that be because I'm supposed to be dead,
I wonder?'
'I'm glad you're not.’
'Of course you are. Where's Bryant?' snapped Avedissian.
'I see,’ said Sarah Milek, 'You've come for your revenge.'
'That was my original intention,’ agreed Avedissian. 'But
circumstances have dictated that I need Bryant's help.’
'Help?' said an astonished Sarah Milek.
‘
The
IRA
have been planning a big operation here in
England. It's going to happen any day now and Kell's people are already here. It's Kell's way of paying Bryant back for
trying to trick him.'
'But there hasn't been time for Kell to mount anything
big,’ protested Sarah Milek.
'You're wrong,’ said Avedissian. 'Kell knew all along that
there had been no royal kidnap. He started working on his
own scheme right back at the beginning and just kept
stringing Bryant along.'
'But he tried to raise money from bank raids.'
'Wrong again. Kell planted Kathleen O'Neill on Bryant
and used her to settle an old score with the
INLA
and convince
Bryant that she was genuine at the same time. Her brother
hadn't been killed by Kell at all. He's still alive. He's here with
me in London. That's how I know about Kell's plans.'
'And Kathleen O'Neill?'
'She's here too.'
'What happened to the boy?' asked Sarah Milek
tentatively.
'He's dead. I buried him in a field in Illinois.'