by Ken McClure
'I take it you would like the brat back alive?' asked Innes's voice from outside.
'Yes,’ said Avedissian.
‘Throw out the gun.’
Avedissian threw down the gun from the cab and Innes appeared, holding the child in front of his body. He switched on the barn lights and motioned with the gun in his hand that Avedissian should stand up. He then circled round cautiously to the other harvester and saw that Kathleen was slumped unconscious in the cab before returning his complete attention to Avedissian.
Avedissian could see the fear in Harry's eyes as he struggled in Innes's grasp but to no avail. ‘The tapes!' said Innes.
'If I give you the tapes, will you let us go?'
'Just give me the tapes,’ said Innes as if he were growing bored with the whole thing.
At that moment, Harry sank his teeth into Innes's hand. Innes cried out in pain and, raising the gun above his head, he brought it crashing down on the boy's skull with all the force he could muster.
Avedissian almost choked on the vomit that welled up in his throat for he knew that the child's skull could not possibly have withstood such a blow. Sickness and anguish was replaced by anger. 'You bastard!' he almost screamed at Innes. 'You rotten bastard! May you rot in hell!'
Innes was breathing heavily. All trace of boredom had gone as he pointed the gun at Avedissian and snarled, 'Shut your trap and give me the tapes!'
Avedissian took the two cassettes from his pocket and made a last gambit for his life. He paused for a moment with the tape in his hand.
'Down here!' snapped Innes.
Avedissian threw them so that they landed on the ground but inside the leading blade of the harvester. Then, as Innes reached out to retrieve them, Avedissian slammed his knee against the starter button in the cab and the machine, being in gear, lurched forward.
The great paddle wheel spun round and snatched Innes in by his arm. Such was the power of the harvester that the motor did not even notice the obstruction caused by a mere human body. It simply reduced Innes to a boneless pulp in seconds, spraying blood over the barn like sudden rain. Avedissian killed the engine and climbed down slowly from the cab.
Kathleen had come round but was disorientated. Avedissian caught her in his arms as she descended unsteadily from the harvester. 'Harry! Where's Harry?' she asked anxiously, then she saw the child lying in the doorway and, before Avedissian had had time to say anything, she broke free and went to him. She held him briefly before collapsing in tears. 'How could anyone? How could anyone?' she sobbed.
Avedissian put out the lights in the barn and tried to comfort her before saying softly, 'We have to go.'
'I don't want to leave him,' whispered Kathleen.
'We'll take him,’ said Avedissian gently. He picked up Harry's body and carried him to Innes's car to lay him gently on the back seat. 'We're going to take this car,' he told Kathleen. 'It's not stolen.'
As they were about to leave, Avedissian had a sudden thought and got out of the car to fetch a jerry can of kerosene from the barn. He opened the doors of Feldman's car and doused the interior before laying a trail up to the barn doors and throwing the can inside. He moved Innes's car down the track a little before realising that he did not have any matches. He punched the car cigar-lighter into its socket and waited with mounting impatience until it had warmed up to red heat.
Avedissian threw the lighter at Feldman's car and saw it erupt in a burst of yellow fire, which raced up to the barn and started to engulf the building in a matter of seconds. He climbed in beside Kathleen and drove off.
'Why?' asked Kathleen.
'It's going to take the police a while to sort that mess out. They will identify the car and their immediate assumption will be that we died in the fire. Finding Innes's charred body will help to confirm that impression for they don't even know that he exists. By the time they work out that we're not there at all we should be out of the country.'
They drove through the night in silence, Avedissian concentrating on the road and Kathleen preoccupied with thoughts of Harry and of what might have been. As the first light of dawn streaked the sky in front of them Avedissian asked, 'Are you all right?'
Kathleen came out of her trance-like state and gripped Avedissian lightly on the arm. She said, 'Of course, but you must be exhausted.'
'I want to get as far away as possible,' said Avedissian. 'We'll drive all through the day then stay overnight before making for Chicago Airport tomorrow.'
'And Harry?' asked Kathleen softly.
'We'll find a place… a nice place.'
Avedissian took the car off the readjust after they had passed through a copse of trees by a river and looked back. There?' he asked.
Kathleen saw the morning sun sparkle on the waters of the river as it moved sluggishly round a bend by the trees and said, 'Yes.'
Avedissian opened the boot of the car and found something to serve as a digging tool. He wrapped Harry's body in a rug that had lain on the back seat and carried him through the trees to put him gently down by the water's edge while he dug out a shallow grave.
Avedissian finished filling in the grave and stood up to watch Kathleen pick up a handful of earth and let it fall slowly through her fingers. Tears were running silently down her face.
'We'll have to go,’ said Avedissian as gently as he could.
Kathleen nodded and turned away. Avedissian put his arm round her and they walked slowly back to the car.
They drove across Iowa into Illinois and on towards Chicago as they had planned and then, as night fell, they stopped in the town of Penning and found a place to stay. There was a small-town pleasantness about Penning that appealed to both of them as they strolled in the cool of the evening, ridding their limbs of the stiffness brought on by the marathon drive.
'Do you think there's still time to save Martin?' asked Kathleen.
'Of course,' said Avedissian, squeezing her arm. 'Innes was still trying for the tapes. Kell will be waiting to hear from him. He won't do anything until he's sure he has the money.'
People sat talking on verandas or walked arm in arm down Main Street. Muted laughter drifted on the still air. Teenagers bunched on corners. 'It's another world,' said Kathleen.
'Not ours,’ said Avedissian.
'Couldn't we make believe?' asked Kathleen.
'Why not?' smiled Avedissian. 'Just for tonight.'
They walked hand in hand down the street, pretending that that was what they did most evenings after dinner. 'How long have we been married?' asked Kathleen.
Avedissian thought then said, 'Twelve years. It's our anniversary next Wednesday.’
'Children?'
'Two. A boy and a girl.’
'Job?'
'I sell farm machinery.’
'What do I do?'
'You were a nurse in the local hospital until Janey came along.’
'Who's looking after Janey tonight?'
'Your mother. She comes round every Tuesday and Friday.’
'You're good at this game,’ said Kathleen.
'We have to cut short our walk tonight.’
'Why?' asked Kathleen.
Avedissian stopped and turned towards her. He kissed her softly on the lips and said, 'Because I want to make love to you.’
The TWA Jumbo took its place in the queue to leave O'Hare Airport which, even at eight in the evening, was impressively long. The snake of predominantly Boeing aircraft, carrying the liveries of the world's airlines, crawled up to the head of the runway to take off in turn with what seemed like little more than seconds between them. As Avedissian felt the back of his seat begin to press into him he took Kathleen's hand and squeezed it. 'We made it,' he whispered. Kathleen nodded and closed her eyes. Silently, she said goodbye to Harry.
TWELVE
Avedissian turned his head and saw that Kathleen was sleeping. The cabin lights had been dimmed and the whine of the engines had become for many a reassuring white sound in their subconscious. The slight moan
from an auxiliary hydraulic motor made Avedissian look out of the window to see the trailing edge of the wing alter slightly as the captain made a course correction. There was a full moon on the port side. It caught the rivets along the top surface and created geometric shadows on the engine cowling. Avedissian closed his eyes and imagined what the moonlight must look like on the Atlantic seven miles below. He fell asleep.
Avedissian and Kathleen did not discuss a plan of action until they had cleared Heathrow and journeyed to Avedissian's flat by taxi. There was a greyness about London which at other times might have been depressing but after the heat of the Mid-West they found acceptable. On the way Avedissian noticed that the mere fact that it was not raining had encouraged quite a few women to pretend that it was still summer and reflect that attitude in their dress. He admired their spirit.
'How will you contact Kell when we get to Belfast?' he asked Kathleen.
‘There are several pubs used by our people. I can get a message to him.'
Avedissian noted the phrase 'our people' and felt distanced by it. He did not say anything but wished silently that Kathleen had not used it. They discussed where they would stay until the deal was made with Kell. Kathleen suggested that she had several relations whom she could trust but Avedissian argued, and Kathleen finally agreed with him, that they should trust no one. They would find an anonymous boarding-house.
'There is one thing,' said Avedissian. 'You know Kell. Do you think he will agree to a straight deal?'
Kathleen's face took on a pained expression and she replied, 'My heart prays that he will but my head tells me different. Nobody crosses Kell and gets away with it. Something tells me that even if he gets the money he won't rest until Martin and I are dead. For Kell it will be a matter of principle.'
'From what I've heard of him I was afraid that might be the case,' said Avedissian. 'So we're not going to let that happen.'
'What do you mean?'
'I mean we start taking care of our own future.'
'In what way?'
'Kell still thinks the tapes are the key to the money. We are going to exchange the tapes for your brother and then use the money to buy a new life for all of us.'
Kathleen's eyes opened wide in astonishment. 'You intend to double-cross Finbarr Kell?' she exclaimed in disbelief.
'You've just said that he intends to double-cross you.'
'But Kell! You don't know what you're saying!'
'He's a man.'
'You don't know him.'
'All I know is you can buy a lot of time and distance with twenty-five million dollars. What's the alternative? Running? Hiding? Watching our backs all the time? That's no life. It's time to stop being a victim of circumstance. It's time to fight for what you want.'
'It's crazy… crazy,' muttered Kathleen as she considered what Avedissian was suggesting but, despite her fear of Kell, she could see that it made some kind of sense. If Kell intended to kill them even if he got the money, why give it to him in the first place? 'All right,’ she agreed.
'I had to get rid of the gun before we got on the plane. I'm going to feel naked without one. Any ideas?' asked Avedissian.
Kathleen looked at Avedissian and wondered if he really appreciated what he was getting into. Few people in their right minds would ever dream of tangling with Kell, whatever the ordnance, and here was Avedissian wondering where he could get a gun. At that moment she loved him more than she thought possible. 'We can't risk buying one. Apart from that there's no time,' she said. 'But there might still be one in the cottage at Cladeen.' She told Avedissian of the cottage used by the IRA and where she and Martin had last been together. 'Martin had a gun in the dressing-table upstairs; he kept it as a second one in case of emergencies. If Kell's men did not search the place after we left and no one has used the house since then it will still be there.'
Avedissian asked how they would get there.
'We'd need a car.'
'We'll need one anyway. We'll rent one.'
'It would be best to go at night,' said Kathleen.
Avedissian looked at his watch and said, 'We can be in Belfast by this evening.'
'You need some proper rest,' said Kathleen.
‘There's no time. But there will be when it's all over. How's the leg?'
'It's fine,’ said Kathleen. 'Have I told you lately that I love you?'
'No,’ smiled Avedissian.
'Well I do.’
Avedissian ran his fingers lightly through Kathleen's hair and said, 'I have to go out, arrange the tickets, go to the bank, get some odds and ends. Get some sleep. I'll be back soon.’
Avedissian picked up a newspaper on his way back to the flat and read it when he got in. It was strangely reassuring to find that the world seemed to be going on as normal. The more trivial the story the more Avedissian liked it and took refuge in its diversion. He did, however, find one article on Ireland and the troubles. It reported that earlier fears of a new reign of terror in Belfast had been subsiding in recent weeks with an unofficial truce apparently having been declared by the IRA after the bombing of the Shamrock Shopping Centre. It was suggested that that particular outrage had been a one-off, a show of strength for the benefit of any doubters of the new regime and did not herald a new wave of violence.
Avedissian felt uneasy at the complacency of the article. He remembered what Kathleen had said about rumours of a Kell operation to outshine even Bryant's grandiose scheme. A chill ran through him when he thought of her assertion that no one crossed Kell and ever got away with it.
He turned the page and read of a TV star's addiction to heroin and moved on to a story about a cat being rescued from a church roof by the fire brigade. A brave pensioner's struggle with teenage muggers came next and then, as he prepared to skip over the children's section, he saw a photograph that caught his attention and paused. 'Another First for Blue Peter' read the story. Royal child to share his birthday celebrations with handicapped young people from all over the country. Avedissian looked at the child in the photograph and felt a desperate bitterness when he thought of Harry. The child in the photograph would never know what happened to his unwitting alter ego or why. But Bryant would, Avedissian promised himself.
It was raining when they got to Belfast and, for some reason, Avedissian had known that it would be. The universal grey wetness was just as he had pictured it in his mind two nights before in Penning. They picked up their hire car at the airport and headed for an area of the city liberally endowed with terraced boarding-houses. They picked one for no particular reason and booked in for the night. They would move to another next day using the same story. They were stopping off in Belfast for one night before driving south.
It was eight p.m. when they left for Cladeen, with Kathleen giving directions to Avedissian, who was having trouble enough with the rain proving too heavy for the wipers. Red brake-lights flared up ahead and were reflected many times over in the river of water on the screen. Avedissian slowed and saw that there was an army patrol up ahead.. A soldier stood in the road, one hand resting on his shoulder-slung weapon and the other in the air to halt traffic.
It was an anxious moment for Avedissian who did not relish the prospect of an identity check but he was relieved to see that they were not the object of the army's interest. Traffic was being held up to allow a large military vehicle to reverse out from a lane. This over, the convoy continued.
Despite their agreement that the torrential rain could not last long, it did. It was still pouring down when they got to Cladeen and pulled into the little lane leading to the cottage. They were drenched within seconds of leaving the car and approaching the house on foot in case anyone should be staying there.
The cottage was in darkness and there was no sound from it save for the rain gurgling through the overloaded gutters. Kathleen signalled to Avedissian that he should follow her, as she led the way round to a back window near the ground. She tried it and it opened. Avedissian climbed in behind her and closed the window t
o stand, dripping water on the kitchen floor.
‘This way,' said Kathleen. She led the way upstairs to the bedroom and opened a drawer to withdraw an automatic pistol and hand it to Avedissian. He checked the clip and said, 'It's loaded.'
They came back downstairs and Kathleen paused to look at the living room. It was exactly as they had left it after that awful night. The lampshade still lay on the floor where it had been knocked off to expose the microphone. In her mind she could see her brother lying in agony on the floor while Kell's eyes burned with mad fury. The thought that she was getting ever closer to Kell made her desperately afraid. 'Let's go,' she said.
'Which pub are we heading for?' asked Avedissian as they reached the outskirts of Belfast.
‘Try the Blind Horse in Lyndock Street,' said Kathleen.
'How do we get there?'
'Stop the car.'
Avedissian stopped and Kathleen took over the driving. They were there in ten minutes after weaving through Belfast's dockland. Avedissian did not like the look of the place. He would not have liked it had it been a bright summer's day but, near to closing time on a wet night, it made the dock taverns of East London look classy.
'What do I do?' asked Avedissian.
'Stay with me and keep your mouth shut, or that accent of yours could have you face down in the water.'
The inside of the pub was as dingy and run-down as the exterior and Avedissian found himself feeling relieved that they had got soaked in Cladeen. Their sagging clothes and matted hair brought them some kind of common denominator with the clientele.
Kathleen ordered and paid for the drinks. It made Avedissian feel uncomfortable but no one seemed to see anything unusual in it. They sat down on a bench seat and sipped Guinness. 'Do you see anyone?' Avedissian whispered.
'No.'
A few minutes later a small man in a dark, ill-fitting suit emerged from the gents' toilets. He had a cigarette in his mouth with nearly an inch of ash clinging to the end but still managed to cough without disturbing it. Avedissian felt Kathleen stiffen beside him. She whispered, ‘That's Connell Murphy. He can get a message to Kell.' She got up and went to the bar, indicating with her hand that Avedissian should stay seated.