The Trojan Boy (4 page)
Authors: Ken McClure
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Medical, #Suspense, #Thrillers
A spark of anger flared in Avedissian but he controlled it,
for whatever way he looked at it, the comment was not without foundation. 'Very well, I agree,' he said.
for whatever way he looked at it, the comment was not without foundation. 'Very well, I agree,' he said.
'You will now sign this,' said Stapleton, bringing out a
document from his briefcase. 'It's the Official Secrets Act.'
document from his briefcase. 'It's the Official Secrets Act.'
Avedissian signed and said, 'Now can you tell me what this is all about?'
'Not yet,' answered Sir Michael, collecting his papers and
getting up to leave. 'Mr Bryant will tell you all you need to
know for the moment,' and with that, he, Stapleton and
Carlisle were gone.
getting up to leave. 'Mr Bryant will tell you all you need to
know for the moment,' and with that, he, Stapleton and
Carlisle were gone.
Avedissian was left alone in the room with Bryant who
said, 'You will not be returning to your home. Your things
will be collected and brought to you. Miss Milek will give
you your instructions.'
said, 'You will not be returning to your home. Your things
will be collected and brought to you. Miss Milek will give
you your instructions.'
As the door closed behind Bryant, Avedissian felt
hopelessly alone and filled with foreboding about what he
had let himself in for. He crossed to the window and looked
down at the courtyard to see a black saloon disappear
through an arch. The sun shone on the cobbles and it was
quiet, deathly quiet.
hopelessly alone and filled with foreboding about what he
had let himself in for. He crossed to the window and looked
down at the courtyard to see a black saloon disappear
through an arch. The sun shone on the cobbles and it was
quiet, deathly quiet.
Sarah Milek came into the room and joined him at the
window. 'Welcome aboard,' she said softly.
window. 'Welcome aboard,' she said softly.
'Do people really say that?' asked Avedissian, still looking
out of the window.
out of the window.
'When they can't think of anything else.'
Avedissian turned to face her and said, 'I'm sorry, that
was rude.'
was rude.'
'Don't mention it. I understand life has not been treating
you too kindly, and now this . . .' said Sarah Milek.
you too kindly, and now this . . .' said Sarah Milek.
'What exactly is "this"?' asked Avedissian.
I'm sorry. I can't tell you any more than I've been in
structed to.'
structed to.'
'Which is?'
'Nothing really. I'm to give you this.' Sarah Milek handed
over a sealed envelope which Avedissian accepted in
silence. 'Open it here,' she said. 'It contains all you need.'
over a sealed envelope which Avedissian accepted in
silence. 'Open it here,' she said. 'It contains all you need.'
Avedissian sat down at the long table that had been used by Sir Michael and the others. He opened the envelope as
Sarah Milek turned to leave. When she reached the door she turned and said, 'Take your time. When you're ready the porter will let you out.'
Sarah Milek turned to leave. When she reached the door she turned and said, 'Take your time. When you're ready the porter will let you out.'
Avedissian examined the contents. One hundred pounds in cash, a railway timetable and a travel warrant. A brief
typed and unsigned letter instructed him to present himself
in the lobby of the Brecon Inn in Ebbw Vale on Saturday at
ten in the morning. There was a suggestion that it might be
sensible to spend the previous night at the inn.
typed and unsigned letter instructed him to present himself
in the lobby of the Brecon Inn in Ebbw Vale on Saturday at
ten in the morning. There was a suggestion that it might be
sensible to spend the previous night at the inn.
The porter opened the front door as Avedissian emerged from the lift and walked towards him. Almost on impulse
Avedissian pointed to a building across the square and
asked, 'What building is that?'
Avedissian pointed to a building across the square and
asked, 'What building is that?'
The porter seemed embarrassed and looked briefly at his
feet before saying, 'I'm afraid I have no idea. I've not been
here very long.'
feet before saying, 'I'm afraid I have no idea. I've not been
here very long.'
'No, I didn't think you had,' said Avedissian. The "porter"
was no more part of Trinity College than he was.
was no more part of Trinity College than he was.
Avedissian bought himself a large gin at a riverside pub
and ordered something from the bar menu. The veranda
doors were open so he took his drink outside and leaned on
the railing to enjoy the green pleasantness of a perfect
summer day.
and ordered something from the bar menu. The veranda
doors were open so he took his drink outside and leaned on
the railing to enjoy the green pleasantness of a perfect
summer day.
'Would you like to eat out here?' asked a girl whose
accent proclaimed her as a student doing vacation work.
accent proclaimed her as a student doing vacation work.
'Please,’ he replied.
After lunch Avedissian walked by the river and thought
about the morning. On the positive side he felt that he was
employed again and that must be good
...
or was it? He
could not make up his mind. He had no idea what his job was but the one good thing seemed to be that it did not
involve selling and that was a big plus.
about the morning. On the positive side he felt that he was
employed again and that must be good
...
or was it? He
could not make up his mind. He had no idea what his job was but the one good thing seemed to be that it did not
involve selling and that was a big plus.
Avedissian was temperamentally unsuited to selling as a career for, apart from the occasional person whom he liked
instinctively, he tended to regard people in general with
reserved suspicion. They were idiots until they proved
different and, if they didn't, then he had no further time for
them.
instinctively, he tended to regard people in general with
reserved suspicion. They were idiots until they proved
different and, if they didn't, then he had no further time for
them.
Unfortunately, his career as a representative with several
companies, as Sir Michael had so euphemistically put it, had
brought him into contact with a succession of people who
had failed the Avedissian Test when he had been in no
position to flunk them. Clients had felt that he had not
treated them with due deference and company superiors
had felt that he had not acknowledged their true im
portance. In the end both had conspired to make his life a
misery.
companies, as Sir Michael had so euphemistically put it, had
brought him into contact with a succession of people who
had failed the Avedissian Test when he had been in no
position to flunk them. Clients had felt that he had not
treated them with due deference and company superiors
had felt that he had not acknowledged their true im
portance. In the end both had conspired to make his life a
misery.
All that was behind him now. The question was, what lay
in front? He paused to watch two little boys play with model
boats in the water before leaving the towpath to rejoin the road by crossing the footbridge. He had a hundred pounds
and a travel warrant in his pocket and he had to be in Wales
on Saturday.
in front? He paused to watch two little boys play with model
boats in the water before leaving the towpath to rejoin the road by crossing the footbridge. He had a hundred pounds
and a travel warrant in his pocket and he had to be in Wales
on Saturday.
Kevin O’Donnel was dying and like so many at such
times, he was unprepared for death and struggled to say so
much before it was too late. Martin O'Neill cradled the dying
man's head in his arms and tried to comfort him but he was
too badly hurt himself to be of much use and blood flowed freely from a shattered left arm. It started to rain, turning the pools of red a muddy brown and plastering the men's hair to
their heads as they huddled in their backstreet doorway.
times, he was unprepared for death and struggled to say so
much before it was too late. Martin O'Neill cradled the dying
man's head in his arms and tried to comfort him but he was
too badly hurt himself to be of much use and blood flowed freely from a shattered left arm. It started to rain, turning the pools of red a muddy brown and plastering the men's hair to
their heads as they huddled in their backstreet doorway.
'I'm thirsty,' croaked O'Donnell, but there was only the
summer rain to moisten his parched lips.
summer rain to moisten his parched lips.
O'Neill looked up sharply as he heard the shrill sound of a whistle in the distance. Next would come the clatter of army
boots and the revving of laboured engines as the British
combed the area. O'Donnell had heard the sound too and
reacted with new urgency.
boots and the revving of laboured engines as the British
combed the area. O'Donnell had heard the sound too and
reacted with new urgency.
'Listen . . . Listen to me. There's an envelope in the safe at
the Long House. Get it, hide it, let no one else see it. Promise
me?'
the Long House. Get it, hide it, let no one else see it. Promise
me?'
'I promise.'
There was a trickle of blood at the corner of O'Donnell's
mouth and a gurgling sound from his throat that said his
lungs were filling up. He gripped O'Neill's lapel and pulled
him closer. 'One . . . last order.'
mouth and a gurgling sound from his throat that said his
lungs were filling up. He gripped O'Neill's lapel and pulled
him closer. 'One . . . last order.'
O'Neill brought his ear close to hear it then sat upright and
repeated, as if in a daze, the words he had just heard.
repeated, as if in a daze, the words he had just heard.
‘
That's right,’ O'Donnell gasped. 'Obey it. . .'
That's right,’ O'Donnell gasped. 'Obey it. . .'
O'Neill nodded dumbly as O'Donnell's head fell back and
he was dead.
he was dead.
O'Neill clutched his wounded arm to his side as he
struggled to his feet. The shouting was coming closer but the
pain in his arm was becoming unbearable. He set off down
the lane but had to stop as light-headedness blurred his
vision, for he had lost too much blood. Knowing that he
was in imminent danger of passing out he knelt down in another doorway and put his head on the ground to restore
the blood supply to his brain. He had to make a decision.
struggled to his feet. The shouting was coming closer but the
pain in his arm was becoming unbearable. He set off down
the lane but had to stop as light-headedness blurred his
vision, for he had lost too much blood. Knowing that he
was in imminent danger of passing out he knelt down in another doorway and put his head on the ground to restore
the blood supply to his brain. He had to make a decision.
The British had already achieved a major victory. They
had killed Kevin O'Donnell, the
IRA’s
senior commander in
Belfast and, whether they knew it or not, the most
listened-to voice on the war council. They must not take him alive as well, for he knew too much and the British
would make him talk, of that he was sure. There was no
level of bravery that could stand up to modern interrogation
techniques and only a fool would believe differently. By the
time that sound machine had scrambled his brain he would
be ready to kiss the Queen's arse and recite nursery rhymes
for the Duke. There was no real decision to make. He would
have to take his own life.
had killed Kevin O'Donnell, the
IRA’s
senior commander in
Belfast and, whether they knew it or not, the most
listened-to voice on the war council. They must not take him alive as well, for he knew too much and the British
would make him talk, of that he was sure. There was no
level of bravery that could stand up to modern interrogation
techniques and only a fool would believe differently. By the
time that sound machine had scrambled his brain he would
be ready to kiss the Queen's arse and recite nursery rhymes
for the Duke. There was no real decision to make. He would
have to take his own life.
The ultimate test of loyalty had come and here, in a dark street in Belfast with the rain pouring down, his life would
come to an end. Had it been worthwhile? Would anyone
miss him? And what of O'Donnell's last order? Had the
dying man taken leave of his senses? Surely he could not
have meant it? But he had, O'Neill was sure of that. He had
seen O'Donnell's eyes when he had said it and the man had
been perfectly lucid. But now it seemed to be academic anyway for circumstances were dictating that he would be in no position to carry it out. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his pistol.
come to an end. Had it been worthwhile? Would anyone
miss him? And what of O'Donnell's last order? Had the
dying man taken leave of his senses? Surely he could not
have meant it? But he had, O'Neill was sure of that. He had
seen O'Donnell's eyes when he had said it and the man had
been perfectly lucid. But now it seemed to be academic anyway for circumstances were dictating that he would be in no position to carry it out. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his pistol.
The pain from his arm was becoming unbearable and
O'Neill knew that he could not remain conscious for much
longer. Just as long as he could pull the trigger. His vision
blurred again as he tried to focus on the meagre output from
a faulty streetlight on the other side of the lane. The
filament dissolved in the rain to form a misty halo that grew
and grew until it swallowed him up and all was quiet.
O'Neill knew that he could not remain conscious for much
longer. Just as long as he could pull the trigger. His vision
blurred again as he tried to focus on the meagre output from
a faulty streetlight on the other side of the lane. The
filament dissolved in the rain to form a misty halo that grew
and grew until it swallowed him up and all was quiet.
There was a smell of fried onions when O'Neill awoke and
he could hear the yells of children playing. His first black
thought that he might be inside a British prison was allayed
for the moment, for prisons did not smell of fried onions.
They smelt of cabbage and urine. And they did not sound of
children, they clanged and echoed. A stab of pain from his arm made him consider a hospital but that idea did not gel either. It did not feel like a hospital because it was cold.
Hospitals were not cold. They had the heated dryness of a
hairdresser's and the smell of a school sick room.
he could hear the yells of children playing. His first black
thought that he might be inside a British prison was allayed
for the moment, for prisons did not smell of fried onions.
They smelt of cabbage and urine. And they did not sound of
children, they clanged and echoed. A stab of pain from his arm made him consider a hospital but that idea did not gel either. It did not feel like a hospital because it was cold.
Hospitals were not cold. They had the heated dryness of a
hairdresser's and the smell of a school sick room.
O'Neill started to shiver then found that he could not
stop. The involuntary convulsions stirred his arm to new
extremes of pain and made him cry out as he clutched at it to minimise the effects of the tremor.
stop. The involuntary convulsions stirred his arm to new
extremes of pain and made him cry out as he clutched at it to minimise the effects of the tremor.
A woman came into the room and hurried over to him,
alarmed at what she saw. 'Easy,' she soothed, pushing him
back gently on to the pillow. 'You're all right. You're safe now. Try to relax.'
alarmed at what she saw. 'Easy,' she soothed, pushing him
back gently on to the pillow. 'You're all right. You're safe now. Try to relax.'
O'Neill searched the woman's face and found
reassurance. The convulsions became more intermittent,
each one being met by the woman's renewed insistence that
all was well. O'Neill thought that she looked about forty-
five but had to admit that the truth could have lain
anywhere from twenty-five upwards. The lines around her
eyes and the thickness of her waistline said that she led the
kind of life that brought age early to a woman. Her fingers
smelled of nicotine as she brought the blanket up to his
chin.
reassurance. The convulsions became more intermittent,
each one being met by the woman's renewed insistence that
all was well. O'Neill thought that she looked about forty-
five but had to admit that the truth could have lain
anywhere from twenty-five upwards. The lines around her
eyes and the thickness of her waistline said that she led the
kind of life that brought age early to a woman. Her fingers
smelled of nicotine as she brought the blanket up to his
chin.
'Where am I?' O'Neill asked.
'The Flats.'
O'Neill's eyes asked the question.
The Doonan Flats. My husband and his brother brought you here.'
'But the Doonan . . .'
'I know, they're a good bit away from where they found you but that's probably all to the good.'
'How did they find me?'
'They were out drinking. What else! They were over in Clancy's when they heard that the Brits were on the warpath. Someone had seen two of ours in Tannahill Road, so Con, that's my man, said that he knew where they would be making for. He was brought up round there, see. He would go lend a hand. He and his brother drove through the backstreets in Michael's car and, unfortunately, they found you.'
'That was brave of them.'
'Brave!' scoffed the woman. 'It was bloody stupid. It was Guinness not bravery!'
'You're not for a free Ireland then?'
'Free Ireland! Now what would I be doing with high-sounding phrases like that? I want a decent house, I want a job for Con, I want a future for my kids. These are the things I'm interested in.'
'And don't you think that you'd get these things in a free Ireland?' asked O'Neill.
'Governments are governments. They are politicians and they don't give a stuff for the likes of me, whoever they are.'
Other books
La Guerra de los Enanos by Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
See Jane Love by Debby Conrad
Change of Heart by Molly Jebber
That Kind of Woman by Paula Reed
Round Robin by Joseph Flynn
Nothing to Fear by Karen Rose
Starring Me by Krista McGee
Heat LIghtning by Pellicane, Patricia
Anguli Ma by Chi Vu
The Keepers by 001PUNK100