there are days in the week when I don’t know that myself,” and Keogh turned into the trees.
H E DISAPPEARED AND Ryan said, “Off we go, girl. We’ll find a road, follow it, and see where we are.”
He led the way up through the trees, a ghostly passage as dawn came so that it was comparatively easy to see the way. They came to a narrow country road in a few minutes. There was a turning opposite and a signpost.
“You stay here in shelter and I’ll see where we are.”
He walked through the rain to the signpost, examined it, and came back, standing beside her in the shelter of the trees to light a cigarette.
“Drumdonald three miles to the left. Scotstown five miles the other way. We might as well go for the shorter walk.”
They stayed there for a moment and she said, “All for nothing. We don’t even know where the
Irish Rose
went down.”
“Don’t we?” He laughed and took another black instrument from his pocket that looked rather like the Howler. “Another gadget that young electronic genius at Queen’s University found for me. It’s called a Master Navigator. I gave him Marsh End and Kilalla and he programmed in their positions. This thing has given a constant reading of course and position all the way across. I know exactly where the
Irish Rose
went down.”
“My God,” she said, “and you never told me.”
“There are things I keep close to myself.”
“So what do we do now? Reid will be looking for us and that swine Scully.”
“And the Army Council,” Ryan said. “No, time to take a trip, I think. They say America’s grand at this time of the year. We’ll get to the safe house at Bundoran. False passports there. You know how careful I am. They’re always in stock.”
“But money, Uncle Michael, what about that?”
“Oh, I wasn’t exactly honest with Martin. I still have the second fifty thousand pounds I was to pay Tully in an envelope in my breast pocket.”
“My God, what a man you are.”
“It should keep us going for a while. When it runs out I’ll think of something.”
“Such as?”
“I’ve robbed banks in Ulster and got away with it. No reason I can’t do the same in America.”
“Sometimes I think you’re a raving madman.”
“And sometimes I am, but let’s get going.” He took her arm and they started along the road to Drumdonald.
There was silence, only the rain, and then Keogh stepped out of the trees where he had sheltered while listening to the conversation.
“You bloody old fox,” he said softly and there was a kind of admiration there.
He turned and started to walk the opposite way toward Scotstown.
I T WAS SIX o’clock in the morning and in Dublin Jack Barry was half awake, lying in the big bed beside his wife, when the portable phone he’d placed at the side of the bed sounded. He slid out of bed, picked it up, and went into the bathroom.
“Yes.”
“A reverse charge call for you from a Mr. Keogh. Will you take it?”
“Of course,” Barry said.
A moment later Keogh’s voice sounded in his ear. “That you, Jack?”
“Where are you?”
“A public telephone box in a village called Scotstown on the Down coast.”
“What’s going on? I have twenty men from the County Down Brigade waiting at Kilalla.”
“Send them home, Jack, the
Irish Rose
won’t be coming.”
“Tell me,” Barry ordered.
Which Keogh did. When he was finished, Barry said, “Christ, what a ploy and to end like that.”
“I know. Quite a fella, Michael Ryan.”
“I was thinking,” Barry said. “Standing in the trees listening to him talk to his niece you could have shot the bugger and taken that Master Navigator thing. We’d have known the location of the damn boat then.”
“A major salvage operation to get that gold up, Jack.”
“That sounds like an excuse. Have you gone soft on me?”
“I liked him, Jack, and I liked the wee girl. The bullion didn’t reach its destination, the Loyalists won’t be able to arm for a
H E DISAPPEARED AND Ryan said, “Off we go, girl. We’ll find a road, follow it, and see where we are.”
He led the way up through the trees, a ghostly passage as dawn came so that it was comparatively easy to see the way. They came to a narrow country road in a few minutes. There was a turning opposite and a signpost.
“You stay here in shelter and I’ll see where we are.”
He walked through the rain to the signpost, examined it, and came back, standing beside her in the shelter of the trees to light a cigarette.
“Drumdonald three miles to the left. Scotstown five miles the other way. We might as well go for the shorter walk.”
They stayed there for a moment and she said, “All for nothing. We don’t even know where the
Irish Rose
went down.”
“Don’t we?” He laughed and took another black instrument from his pocket that looked rather like the Howler. “Another gadget that young electronic genius at Queen’s University found for me. It’s called a Master Navigator. I gave him Marsh End and Kilalla and he programmed in their positions. This thing has given a constant reading of course and position all the way across. I know exactly where the
Irish Rose
went down.”
“My God,” she said, “and you never told me.”
“There are things I keep close to myself.”
“So what do we do now? Reid will be looking for us and that swine Scully.”
“And the Army Council,” Ryan said. “No, time to take a trip, I think. They say America’s grand at this time of the year. We’ll get to the safe house at Bundoran. False passports there. You know how careful I am. They’re always in stock.”
“But money, Uncle Michael, what about that?”
“Oh, I wasn’t exactly honest with Martin. I still have the second fifty thousand pounds I was to pay Tully in an envelope in my breast pocket.”
“My God, what a man you are.”
“It should keep us going for a while. When it runs out I’ll think of something.”
“Such as?”
“I’ve robbed banks in Ulster and got away with it. No reason I can’t do the same in America.”
“Sometimes I think you’re a raving madman.”
“And sometimes I am, but let’s get going.” He took her arm and they started along the road to Drumdonald.
There was silence, only the rain, and then Keogh stepped out of the trees where he had sheltered while listening to the conversation.
“You bloody old fox,” he said softly and there was a kind of admiration there.
He turned and started to walk the opposite way toward Scotstown.
I T WAS SIX o’clock in the morning and in Dublin Jack Barry was half awake, lying in the big bed beside his wife, when the portable phone he’d placed at the side of the bed sounded. He slid out of bed, picked it up, and went into the bathroom.
“Yes.”
“A reverse charge call for you from a Mr. Keogh. Will you take it?”
“Of course,” Barry said.
A moment later Keogh’s voice sounded in his ear. “That you, Jack?”
“Where are you?”
“A public telephone box in a village called Scotstown on the Down coast.”
“What’s going on? I have twenty men from the County Down Brigade waiting at Kilalla.”
“Send them home, Jack, the
Irish Rose
won’t be coming.”
“Tell me,” Barry ordered.
Which Keogh did. When he was finished, Barry said, “Christ, what a ploy and to end like that.”
“I know. Quite a fella, Michael Ryan.”
“I was thinking,” Barry said. “Standing in the trees listening to him talk to his niece you could have shot the bugger and taken that Master Navigator thing. We’d have known the location of the damn boat then.”
“A major salvage operation to get that gold up, Jack.”
“That sounds like an excuse. Have you gone soft on me?”
“I liked him, Jack, and I liked the wee girl. The bullion didn’t reach its destination, the Loyalists won’t be able to arm for a
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