The Trojan Boy (26 page)

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Authors: Ken McClure

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Medical, #Suspense, #Thrillers

BOOK: The Trojan Boy
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'Maybe we should leave him,’ said Kathleen quietly. 'He
might be properly taken care of.'
'He might not be,’ said Avedissian bitterly. 'It won't take
long for them to discover that he's not who he's supposed to
be and then what? How do they explain that away? Or
maybe they don't. Maybe they just "rid" themselves of the
problem.'
'What do you suggest?' asked Jarvis.
'We take him with us. We take him home and start
finding out where the hell he came from in the first place.'
'How?'
'By asking Bryant,’ said Avedissian through his teeth.
NINE

 

Jarvis searched Shelby’s body
and removed his gun. He
gave it to Avedissian saying, 'You'd better have this.' He
then pulled the corpse away from the door and looked around until he had found the room key. 'We'll lock it
behind us,’ he said. That should give us a little extra time
before someone finds this mess.' He looked distastefully at
the needle protruding from under Roker's fingernail then
said, 'Let's go.'
'The hotel has a side-entrance,’ said Jarvis as they hurried
along the corridor. 'It'll be safer. Use the stairs,’ he added as
Avedissian stopped at the elevators.
Avedissian, carrying the boy, who was still unconscious, followed Jarvis through the swing-doors leading to the fire-escape stairs while Kathleen held them open for him. They
met no one on the way down and Jarvis put away the gun
he had been holding ready in his hand.
The side-entrance to the hotel was used solely as a goods entrance so there was no call for decor or furnishings in the passages leading to it. Open pipe work crowded the ceiling and plain, white-washed walls lined their route. The hum of
ventilation machinery was loud in their ears but seemed to do little to dispel the smell of food from the oppressively
warm air. The clangs of kitchen utensils and the sound of
voices were somewhere near but no one crossed their path.
As they came to the unimposing little side-door they
paused to catch their breath. Kathleen pulled the blanket
back from the boy's face and looked at him. 'Poor little mite,’
she said. 'How could they do it?'
The question had been rhetorical but it triggered off an idea
in Avedissian's head. He suddenly bundled the boy into
Kathleen's arms and said, 'I've got to go back! I won't be
long.' He was gone before either Kathleen or Jarvis had had a
chance to protest.
Avedissian climbed the stairs two at a time and was breathing hard by the time he reached Jarvis's floor and
started running along the corridor. He tried the room door
and found it locked; Jarvis still had the key. He drew back to
the opposite side of the corridor and took a run at the door,
crashing into it with his left shoulder. There was a splintering
sound but the lock still held. It took two more attempts before
the door flew back on its hinges and crashed open against the
wall.
Avedissian could hear doors opening as people came out to
investigate the commotion but there was no time to concern
himself with that. He was only going to be a few seconds. He
collected what he had come for and ran back along the
corridor, brushing clumsily past a fat lady in dressing-gown
and curlers who snorted her disapproval.
'What on earth did you go back for?' asked Kathleen when
Avedissian re-appeared.
'The boy's future,' gasped Avedissian, still out of breath.
'Let's get out of here. I created a bit of a stir up there.'
Avedissian took the boy from Kathleen while Jarvis
opened both inner and outer fly-screen doors. Jarvis looked out both ways before saying, 'It's all clear.'
They hurried towards an illuminated sign that told them
where the exit from the underground garage was and
stopped at the head of the ramp. Jarvis said, 'Wait here with
the boy. I'll bring up the car.'
As they waited in quiet limbo, Avedissian looked up. The air was still and warm and the sky laden with stars. A faint
smell of blossom made him think of Cambridge in England.
He was trying to recall the name of a piece of music coming
faintly from an upper floor of the hotel when a sudden
violent, but muffled, explosion rocked the building and shattered the peace of the night.
Black smoke billowed up from the garage and hung indecisively round the entrance like a great cloud in search of a
breeze. Avedissian and Kathleen stared at the sight in disbe
lief, both unwilling to believe what they feared must have
happened. But there was no escaping it: Jarvis must be dead.
There had been a bomb in the car.
'What do we do?' asked Kathleen, her eyes filled with fear.
'We get away from here,' said Avedissian, unable to think
beyond the moment.
They hurried along the lane and paused briefly to look back
at the scene. The smoke was thinning. It drifted past the neon
sign at the garage like a cloud across the moon. A group of people had now congregated at the head of the ramp and the
sound of approaching sirens was becoming insistent.
As they watched, a long black saloon car entered the lane
and three men got out. They seemed more interested in the
sight of the man carrying the child at the far end of the lane
than in what had happened in the garage below.
They're
NORAID!'
said Avedissian. 'Let's move!'
'Where are we going?' gasped Kathleen as they raced
down the side-street at the end of the lane.
'To find a cab!' answered Avedissian, his arms aching with
the weight of the boy.
Kathleen risked a glance back and said in a voice courting
Panic, They're gaining!'
'Keep going!' urged Avedissian. He could see the lights of
the main thoroughfare fifty metres ahead but knew that they
were being rapidly caught. 'When we turn the corner, you
take the boy! '
They turned the corner and Avedissian bundled the boy over
to Kathleen and said, 'Go and find a cab! I'll hold them off!'
Kathleen did as she was bid and Avedissian drew out the
pistol that had been taken from the dead American. He waited
with his cheek pressed up against the cold stone of the wall
until he could hear the sound of running footsteps grow louder. For an instant he was back in Belfast, a long time ago. The fear
in his stomach had a strange sexuality about it, danger, excite
ment, heightened awareness, a feeling only to be experienced
on the very edge of disaster.
Holding the pistol in both hands and at arm's length,
Avedissian stepped out smartly and dropped to one knee to fire
at the approaching figures.
With the first bullet one of the running men pitched forward and fell to the ground. Avedissian heard a gun clatter from his grasp. The other man took panic in mid-flight and tried to stop
too quickly. His arms and legs flailed in unsynchronised action as he sought cover from the totally unexpected. He loosed off a
couple of wild shots in Avedissian's direction but was
hopelessly off-balance. Avedissian held the gun on him and squeezed the trigger twice.
The street was silent. There were two bodies lying in it and no
sign of the third man who had been in the black saloon.
Avedissian waited for a few moments, holding the gun in
front of him, ready to fire at the slightest movement, but all was quiet. He put the gun away and hurried off to find Kathleen. He found her sitting in a yellow cab by the kerb, some two hundred metres from where he had left her. She was having a discussion
with the driver about payment for waiting time.

The Rainbow Inn,' said Avedissian, getting in the cab and
putting an end to the conversation. Kathleen almost fainted
with relief at the sight of him. 'Are you all right?' she
whispered. Avedissian nodded in reply.
'You folks are English?' said the driver.
'We're visiting relations,' said Avedissian.
'And you are staying in the Rainbow Inn?' said the driver.
'Guess your relations ain't got much room.'
Avedissian silently cursed nosey cab drivers.
'Is the kid sick?' asked the driver.
'Just tired.'
'Well, it's late,’ said the driver. 'Maybe too late for a little
kid like that
'You know how it is, all the relations want to see him. It
won't do him any harm.'
'Guess not.'
Avedissian was relieved to see the illuminated 'Rainbow
Inn' sign come up on their right-hand side. 'Just drop us
here,' he said to the driver.
'I can take you right into the parking lot.'
This is fine.'
Avedissian gave the man the fare and a big tip and was glad
to see the back of him. He looked around for inspiration and
saw the sign of a fast food restaurant. 'In there,' he said to
Kathleen. 'We have to talk.'
It was late and there was only a handful of people in the
restaurant. They found a booth well away from the others
and settled the boy in the corner. Avedissian checked the
child's pulse surreptitiously and said, 'He's all right.' He
bought coffee at the counter and returned to join Kathleen.
'We're in big trouble,' he said. '
I thought we might be able to check in at the Rainbow for
the night but I've changed my mind. All
NORAID
have to do is
ask the local taxi drivers about a couple with a child and they
would find us. They're already going to find out about our
"English" accents.'
'So what can we do?' asked Kathleen.
'I'll pick up the car from the car park and we'll drive somewhere.'
'What about the boy? Doesn't he need proper care at
a
hospital?'
'We can't risk it. We can't answer all the questions they
would ask. They would call the police. I can look after him if I
can get what I need.'
Avedissian left Kathleen and the boy in the restaurant and
went to pick up their car. The parking lot seemed free of
people when he got there but he stood for a few moments in
the shadows to make sure. The fewer people who saw him
the better. Satisfied that he was alone, he crossed quickly to
the
BMW
and unlocked the door. The interior smelled of newness and leather. Outside, the lights of the Inn were
reflected in the paintwork of the bonnet.
He inserted the ignition key and froze, sitting motionless
for a moment, cold with fear as he recalled the pall of black
smoke outside the Plaza Hotel. Surely the
IRA
could not have
known about this car? he reasoned. It was conceivable that
Innes had found out about Jarvis being at the same hotel but
surely not about the other car he’d parked at the Rainbow?
Avedissian could not turn the key. He let it go and pulled
the bonnet release instead.
What was to be a reassuring look under the hood turned
out to be the inspiration of a nightmare for there, strapped to
the engine cover with bright yellow sticky tape, was a rectangular lump of something that looked like Plasticine.
The muscles in Avedissian's throat contracted and he held
his breath as he traced the path of the two wires emanating from one end of the lump. One went to the ignition coil, the other to an earth point on the body. He saw the simple logic
of it. If he had turned the key, power would have flowed
from the battery to the coil and from the coil to the detonator
in the plastic. He lowered the bonnet and walked away from
the car.

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