seminars.'
'Nonsense, you're the best, everyone knows that,' Eileen said.
'Which gets you an A for your next essay. An all-day breakfast for me. A grand old playwright and novelist called Somerset Maugham once said that to dine well in England you should eat breakfast three times a day. Bushmills Whis key for me, my love.'
'A mineral water would do fine for me,' Hannah said. 'Still writing through the night, Michael?'
'The leg, Liam. Hurts like hell at night, so I can't sleep and I refuse to take the morphine.'
'I'd stick to the Bushmills if I were you.'
Eileen brought the drinks and departed. Leary went back to his stew. 'So, what's it about?'
'Brendan Murphy. Friend of yours?'
'Nobody's friend, that one. As far as I'm concerned, he's a gangster. A disgrace to the movement.'
'Would the chief of staff share your view?'
'Certainly. All the old hands want peace to work, Liam, except for people like Murphy . . .'
'Who have a vested interest in keeping things going,' Hannah said.
'Exactly. Splinter groups like the Continuity IRA, the Real IRA, they all have other agendas.'
The breakfast and the Irish stew arrived and they started to eat.
'And where would Murphy be now?' Hannah asked.
'God knows, Superintendent.' Leary pulled up short. 'As you must know better than most, these days in the Republic, Ulster, and the UK, they're letting them out, not locking them up. Murphy can come and go as he pleases. He's only in trouble if he crosses the line with the Provisional IRA.'
'Would he be dealt with?'
'Certainly. No question. We're an army, Hannah, with rules and regulations. Now what's all this about and why should I help?'
'Because fifteen years ago I saved your life in County Down after you were shot. Got you over the border.'
'Liam, I paid off on that one when you, Dillon and that Yank were after Dermot Riley, and I told you he was back and probably at the farm at Tullamore, and down you went.'
And you told the chief of staff, who sent Bell and Barry down. Two walking ape men. They tortured Bridget Riley, with cigarette burns on the face.'
And Dillon killed Bell and you shot Barry in the back. We got it all from Dermot.'
'Yes, disgraceful in a man of my age.' Devlin nodded. 'All right, tell him, Hannah.'
Which she did. The underground bunker in County Louth, Fox, the Lebanese connection. Everything.
Leary sat there frowning, then said, 'Let me make one thing clear, and I'm speaking for Provos in general here. We won't give up our arms. History has shown that to be an unwise thing to do.'
'So, you're happy to think that this bunker might exist and Murphy's in charge.'
'No, I'm damn well not, and the chief of staff won't be pleased.'
'You'll tell him?' Hannah asked.
'I have no choice.'
'Ah, well, for once, you've got something in common, you two,' Devlin said. 'So what can you do, Michael?'
'We can trawl County Louth, but it's a hell of a lot of county and Murphy has a lot of hard-line friends there, so I'm not hopeful.' He frowned suddenly. 'I've just thought of something. Sean Regan. Remember him, Liam?'
'From Derry,' Devlin said. 'Shot a military policeman and cleared off to America. As I recall, the peeler recovered.'
'That was two years ago. Regan came back and was working with Murphy in Europe. Apparently, he was on a plane from Paris to Dublin three weeks ago that was diverted to Heathrow because of fog. His name came up on the computer security check and he was lifted.'
'I wonder why I don't know about this.' Hannah frowned.
'Well, according to my information, the Secret Intelligence Service picked him up at Heathrow on one of their special warrants and spirited him away. I'd have thought you'd have known that. Don't your departments share information?'
'Only some of the time.'
Devlin turned to Hannah. 'What do you think?'
'If Regan's been working for Murphy, he might well know something. Frankly, it's our best lead.'
'I can't see that there's anything else I can do,' Devlin said.
'Nonsense, you're the best, everyone knows that,' Eileen said.
'Which gets you an A for your next essay. An all-day breakfast for me. A grand old playwright and novelist called Somerset Maugham once said that to dine well in England you should eat breakfast three times a day. Bushmills Whis key for me, my love.'
'A mineral water would do fine for me,' Hannah said. 'Still writing through the night, Michael?'
'The leg, Liam. Hurts like hell at night, so I can't sleep and I refuse to take the morphine.'
'I'd stick to the Bushmills if I were you.'
Eileen brought the drinks and departed. Leary went back to his stew. 'So, what's it about?'
'Brendan Murphy. Friend of yours?'
'Nobody's friend, that one. As far as I'm concerned, he's a gangster. A disgrace to the movement.'
'Would the chief of staff share your view?'
'Certainly. All the old hands want peace to work, Liam, except for people like Murphy . . .'
'Who have a vested interest in keeping things going,' Hannah said.
'Exactly. Splinter groups like the Continuity IRA, the Real IRA, they all have other agendas.'
The breakfast and the Irish stew arrived and they started to eat.
'And where would Murphy be now?' Hannah asked.
'God knows, Superintendent.' Leary pulled up short. 'As you must know better than most, these days in the Republic, Ulster, and the UK, they're letting them out, not locking them up. Murphy can come and go as he pleases. He's only in trouble if he crosses the line with the Provisional IRA.'
'Would he be dealt with?'
'Certainly. No question. We're an army, Hannah, with rules and regulations. Now what's all this about and why should I help?'
'Because fifteen years ago I saved your life in County Down after you were shot. Got you over the border.'
'Liam, I paid off on that one when you, Dillon and that Yank were after Dermot Riley, and I told you he was back and probably at the farm at Tullamore, and down you went.'
And you told the chief of staff, who sent Bell and Barry down. Two walking ape men. They tortured Bridget Riley, with cigarette burns on the face.'
And Dillon killed Bell and you shot Barry in the back. We got it all from Dermot.'
'Yes, disgraceful in a man of my age.' Devlin nodded. 'All right, tell him, Hannah.'
Which she did. The underground bunker in County Louth, Fox, the Lebanese connection. Everything.
Leary sat there frowning, then said, 'Let me make one thing clear, and I'm speaking for Provos in general here. We won't give up our arms. History has shown that to be an unwise thing to do.'
'So, you're happy to think that this bunker might exist and Murphy's in charge.'
'No, I'm damn well not, and the chief of staff won't be pleased.'
'You'll tell him?' Hannah asked.
'I have no choice.'
'Ah, well, for once, you've got something in common, you two,' Devlin said. 'So what can you do, Michael?'
'We can trawl County Louth, but it's a hell of a lot of county and Murphy has a lot of hard-line friends there, so I'm not hopeful.' He frowned suddenly. 'I've just thought of something. Sean Regan. Remember him, Liam?'
'From Derry,' Devlin said. 'Shot a military policeman and cleared off to America. As I recall, the peeler recovered.'
'That was two years ago. Regan came back and was working with Murphy in Europe. Apparently, he was on a plane from Paris to Dublin three weeks ago that was diverted to Heathrow because of fog. His name came up on the computer security check and he was lifted.'
'I wonder why I don't know about this.' Hannah frowned.
'Well, according to my information, the Secret Intelligence Service picked him up at Heathrow on one of their special warrants and spirited him away. I'd have thought you'd have known that. Don't your departments share information?'
'Only some of the time.'
Devlin turned to Hannah. 'What do you think?'
'If Regan's been working for Murphy, he might well know something. Frankly, it's our best lead.'
'I can't see that there's anything else I can do,' Devlin said.
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