Isabel was listening closely, hardly able to take her eyes off him.
‘I’m sorry you’ve to go so soon, Tommy, when we’ve only just met again.’
‘So am I, but I could write to you. Will you write back?’
‘Oh yes, and maybe you’d come out to Cyprus to have a holiday with us? Would that be all right, Mum?’
‘Now do I really have to answer that? Come out any time you like, Tommy.’
‘I’d love to, thank you. Who knows, some day I might get a posting there. I’ve never been and, by all accounts, it’s a beautiful island.’
‘Hey, wouldn’t that be fun? The rest of your family could come for a visit too.’
‘Thanks, Liz.’
Chuck raised an eyebrow at David who gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Chapter 3
Earlier that day, after weeks of miserable weather, the sun had come out and the temperature had risen across the whole of the east coast area of Ireland, with the forecasters predicting the fine weather would last at least a week. It was a Thursday and, regardless of what the weather conditions had been, this was the day that The Champions of Justice had planned to snatch Izzy. However, the warm weather played right into their hands. It meant getting into Riverside would be relatively easy, since doors and windows were likely to be open.
It was the schools’ and universities’ holiday period. They knew from their informant that Milo would be in his office in the city. His children, Mageen and the twin boys, would be there with him, earning holiday money and learning the stockbroking business, the company having been owned by the Butler family for several generations. They also knew that Mageen’s devoted boyfriend and fellow student, Freddie, who spent a lot of time at Riverside in term-time, wouldn’t be around. Apparently he had gone home to England for the summer vac.
Younger than the other three, Sarah and her Flynn cousins, with at least one adult keeping an eye on them, would be some distance from the house, pottering around, enjoying some of the water sports so beloved of them all. This was a certainty, for, during the holidays, short of a cloud burst or violent storm, apart from Izzy, the family remaining at home on any day would be down by the river. Here different kinds of boats were kept in a neat boathouse and a dock had been built extending out into the water, facilitating use of the river for a variety of pursuits.
Although thoroughly competent in that area, water sports were not Izzy’s first choice of leisure pursuit. By preference, she would, without any doubt, be in the large sitting room, playing the Steinway baby grand piano, which, on discovering her talent, her parents had bought for her. House staff should not present a problem. Most should be either in the kitchen area or upstairs cleaning the bedrooms, that being the well-established routine.
The kidnappers knew that they were taking a lot for granted and it was a big gamble that it would work out exactly as planned, but, as it happened, their calculations were absolutely spot on. Their information had been accurate to the smallest detail.
The plan for Bob’s escape, like all the best plans, was simple. One of the ancillary staff in the asylum had been vulnerable to a bribe. After breakfast the inmates were usually allowed some supervised recreation, if possible outside. Rory was responsible for the final check that all the relevant doors were locked once the prisoners were back in their cells. It was, therefore, easy for him to unlock Bob’s door at this time.
Bob had been agitated since early morning and couldn’t wait for his opportunity to slip away. His recent dose of medication would last for some time, so he was still lucid and, in spite of his impatience to be free, he managed to remain controlled enough not to rush out of the door as soon as he heard the key turn in the lock. It had been impressed upon him by Rory that he must wait for the signal.
Suddenly from the main reception area came the sound of a fire alarm. Rory, by the simple means of a live cigarette butt and some volatile cleaning fluid, had managed to start a fire in a closet where cleaning materials were stored. This was tucked well away from the main hub of the building and so the fire was not spotted until it had taken a firm hold. Since Bob’s block was set quite far from the affected area there was no need to evacuate his part of the asylum, this a policy approved long ago by the fire service and with which Rory was quite familiar. While the usual chaos ensued, with all the associated emergency organisations involved, nobody noticed Bob creeping away around the back area of the complex, wearing a well-worn mackintosh provided by Rory. Neither did anyone spot Rory slipping back to lock the cell door, having ensured Bob had used the almost childish ruse of putting pillows in the bed to look as if there was someone there. It would be some hours before any detailed check would be made and his escape discovered.
Bob followed Rory’s instructions to the letter:
‘Whatever you do when you get out of the building don’t run. That will only attract attention. Try to stroll along quite casually and, with that grubby old mack, in the distance you could just pass for one of the gardeners.’
‘Yes, Rory! You’ve told me so many times – I’ve got the message!’
‘Fine, but don’t let yourself be panicked into rushing things.’
Frequently glancing back over his shoulder, Bob made for the wooded area on the periphery of the asylum. The temptation to run was so strong but he walked as casually as possible, every nerve in his body taut with apprehension. He relaxed slightly when he reached the sheltering trees, then ran until he eventually emerged at the high perimeter wall, topped with rows of barbed wire and shards of glass fixed in a covering of cement. He made his way along this until he came to a side entrance. He had to wait, shielded by the trees, until the two guards there were preoccupied with the excitement of the fire. The moment eventually came when they had their backs turned and curiosity had taken them away from the immediate area of the entrance, so they didn’t notice Bob slip through the gates and start towards the main road as instructed. Again there was great temptation to run but he resisted, even when someone called after him from the gates. Turning slightly, he simply raised his hand in a casual wave, and continued walking, so identification was highly unlikely. However, anticipating further challenge, the hairs on his scalp rose and he bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. The challenge never came.
As he approached a side lane a rather shabby-looking van, with false number plates, emerged and came to a stop beside him, and he was bundled into the back. Contrary to its appearance, the van had a high-powered engine and was designed to make a remarkably speedy getaway. There were three others in the van, plus a driver.
Not wishing to draw unwanted attention to themselves, they drove at a sedate pace along the road towards Riverside House and parked outside the estate. The other three in the van addressed each other as Willie, Eddie, and Mac. Eddie was a doctor and had come along to drug the little girl and make the kidnapping as easy and soundless as possible. All three were armed and, including Bob, had donned balaclavas.
‘Why can’t I have a gun too? I should be armed like the rest of you,’ Bob complained angrily.
‘Ah would you shut your gob! There’s no way we’re going to arm you. Just be grateful that we’ve got you out of that place.’
Only a fool would argue with mighty Mac. He was a big man who looked like a prizefighter. They parked outside the estate entrance.
‘Now, Shamus, remember, once we’re out of sight, drive slowly down that long drive and swing right around to face outwards again. Keep the engine running and, if challenged, pretend you’ve come to the wrong address to deliver a parcel.’
‘Yes yes, Mac, you’ve told me so often. I don’t need to have it rammed down me throat over and over.’
‘Just get it right!’ Shamus didn’t miss the threat in the voice.
Bob, still lucid for the moment, showed them how to skirt around the east side of the house, through a copse of trees, and so avoid being observed by the grounds staff. As anticipated, they could see, even from some distance, that many o
f the windows were open. He knew exactly how to get to the terrace behind the house and locate the sitting room. They could hear the piano well before they reached the room and, as quite accurately predicted, the French doors had been opened wide, giving clear and easy access. Jackpot! thought Mac. They crept along, and, at Mac’s signal, crouched down behind some potted palms. He crawled along and eased his head around the open door.
Izzy was playing away contentedly, totally absorbed in her music. She made an attractive picture, with her wonderful, strawberry-blond hair, hazel eyes and a skin that was almost transparent. Unlike the other Butlers, who were in rude health, she contracted infections easily and suffered from dermatitis, which broke out whenever she was in any way distressed. All this took its toll and she actually looked really fragile, in fact quite fairy-like, with an almost ethereal aura. She was the darling of the whole family, and they all watched over her fiercely, at times giving the almost tangible impression of spreading protective wings around her. On this occasion it was Aunt May who was watching over her, sitting reading her newspaper, more than happy to keep Izzy company and be on hand should this vulnerable child need help of any kind. They were quite unaware that someone was spying on them.
Mac saw the child and noted her fragility with satisfaction rather than compassion. He was relieved that she, at least, would not be capable of putting up any sort of resistance, although the old woman could be a different proposition. He crept back down the terrace and whispered his instructions.
‘Willie, run across and open the door to the hall so we can get out of the front entrance quickly. Eddie, grab the child and give her the sedative. I’ll take care of the old woman and, Bob, just stay out of the way, you’ve done your bit. Then all head for the van as fast as you can. Remember, no shooting unless absolutely essential. We don’t want to attract attention and at this stage we’re not trying to kill anyone!’
However, the effect of his medication was beginning to wear off and Bob’s return to Riverside triggered all the old feelings of hatred. He was sure Tom was in there and no way he was going to stay out of things, no way he was going to miss this chance. As the other three rushed into the room he tore off the balaclava and went in after them. Eddie reached Izzy who screamed but the sound was abruptly cut off as he put his hand over her mouth. He jabbed the needle into her and the powerful drug flew through her delicate little body. She collapsed and Eddie threw her over his shoulder and headed for the door, now conveniently opened by Willie. May had jumped to her feet and hurled herself at Eddie, in an attempt to protect Izzy, but Mac intercepted her and hit her hard on the jaw, knocking her out cold. However, just before the blow landed, she had caught sight of Bob. Mac hurried after the others to the front entrance door and suddenly realized Bob wasn’t with him. Running back into the room he was just in time to see him stooping over May, with his hands around her throat, trying to strangle her.
‘I’ll get one of you, I’ll get one of you. If Tom isn’t here you’ll do. I remember you, you old bitch: you’re another bloody Butler!’
Mac drew his gun and grabbed Bob by the scruff of the neck.
‘If I have to use this on you I will. Now get out as fast as you can.’
The sight of the gun did sober Bob and, cursing Mac, he slunk ahead of him across the hall and out into the van, where Shamus was revving the engine impatiently.
They got away without anyone seeing them. In the huge house Izzy’s scream hadn’t been heard and it hadn’t carried down to the riverbank. May lay on the floor until, a short time later, Kitty, the cook-housekeeper, came along to tell her and Izzy that lunch was ready. Kitty stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds as the implications of what she was looking at hit her: no Izzy, piano stool knocked over, music scattered about and May, unconscious on the floor, with a badly swollen jaw and dreadful marks on her throat.
‘Oh, Holy Mother, no! Please, God, no! Mrs Burke, wake up, wake up.’
But Kitty couldn’t rouse May and so, fear lending her feet a rare turn of speed, she ran down to the river, where Noola and Maggie were sitting watching the children and enjoying the sunny weather. Trying hard not to panic, as soon as she was within shouting distance she couldn’t help screaming to them.
‘Quickly, come quickly – Izzy’s gone and Mrs Burke’s badly injured. Hurry, hurry.’
Noola and Maggie leapt to their feet.
‘Everyone up to the house – now!’
Nobody argued, for they had all heard and were very frightened. They dropped everything and ran, followed by the two women, who felt sick but both were level-headed. In spite of the overwhelming fear that gripped them, they managed to stay in control, realizing how vital this was for everybody else. Maggie called to Kitty as they ran, heading towards the scene of disaster:
‘Kitty, take the children to the kitchen. Get someone to find Mickeen and tell him to take some men with him and search the house thoroughly and I don’t care what they arm themselves with!’
She knew it was important not to upset the children any more than absolutely necessary, and seeing May injured and unconscious, with Izzy gone, would be horrifying. Noola, she realized, must be in a state of severe shock and she felt she had to take over. She was quite right. Noola was frozen with fear, but the two of them had to get to the sitting room at once.
* * * * *
Noola made a frantic call to Milo. He was out of the office so it was some time before he got her message and called back. He listened to her story, told through floods of tears, and went cold all over. He found it hard to speak.
‘Dear God! Our little Izzy! Oh, Noola, what are we going to do? Who has taken her and why? Have you any clue?’
‘None at all, Milo, it makes no sense.’ Her voice was reaching hysteria pitch. ‘Just get here as fast as you can. Bring Mageen and the boys with you. Don’t say why in the hearing of anyone else. No police and no press.’
‘I’m on my way.’
Before they arrived back at Riverside, Sean Flynn, a Senior Inspector in the Garda detective section, or Special Branch, had set up an Operations Room in the library and had called in one of his very competent junior officers to help him. While waiting for Milo’s return call, Maggie had contacted him, addressing him only by his first name. He was her nephew and cousin to Noola. When she told him what had happened there was a moment’s silence before he responded.
‘All right, Maggie. I’ll be there very shortly. Meantime keep this within the household. Explain to everyone no police and no publicity. Spreading the story could be fatal for Izzy.’
Maggie, always quick on the uptake, got the message and passed it on to Noola.
Realising that Milo was badly shaken, Mageen, although devastated at the news herself, had insisted on driving home. It was something of a hair-raising ride for them all. The car screeched to a stop outside the front door and Milo was out and running before it had halted. The others had seen the car careering down the drive and Noola tore out and hurled herself into his arms.
‘Milo, Milo, what are we going to do? Izzy, Milo, Izzy! Why, Why?’
‘Darling, I don’t know, but for the others’ sake we must try to keep an outward appearance of calm.’ He didn’t sound calm.
Hard on their heels Paddy arrived also driving very fast. Dr Paddy Flynn, Noola’s brother, had also been summoned earlier by his mother, Maggie. He had tried to offer support to everyone and had attended to Aunt May as best he could. Then he insisted on taking her to hospital, on Sean’s instructions giving a plausible story to explain her injuries. Once satisfied that she was settled as comfortably as possible he had rushed back to the house, but not before she had recovered her voice enough to tell him that Bob had been there.
‘What? Bob Featherstone? You’re kidding.’
May’s throat was so sore she was hardly able to croak.
‘Saw him – three others.’
Paddy wondered if she was suffering from concussion and had imagined it, but when he called the asylum they con
firmed the story.
‘He’s disappeared all right, Doctor. The whole place is in uproar. Garda everywhere.’
Now he ran straight across to Milo and Noola.
‘I’m so sorry, Milo. You know I’ll do anything that I possibly can to help the family, but,’ he dropped his voice, ‘I’ve got some more worrying news for the two of you. Yours and Sean’s ears only.’
‘Sean? Sean Flynn?’
‘Yes. Ma sent for him straight away, careful not to mention his job – we feel the phone line may not be safe.’
‘Thank heavens he’s here!’
Milo, Noola and Paddy hurried into the library.
‘I’ve an update for you all. Bob Featherstone was here with the men who snatched Izzy. The asylum has confirmed that he’s escaped. I’m certain he’s the one who tried to strangle Mrs Burke. I reckon he wanted to finish her off but one of the others must have dragged him away.’
‘Oh my God!’ Milo’s voice grew even more agitated. ‘We were warned years ago that if he ever escaped this would probably be the first place he’d head for.’
‘But he couldn’t have done it all on his own.’
‘That’s right, Sean,’ answered Paddy. ‘Mrs Burke said there were three others. It’s surprising she’s able to remember so clearly, given she was knocked out and at her age. A remarkable lady!’
‘She’s obviously a tough old bird – sorry, Milo.’
‘You’re right. She’s a Butler! On the whole we’re a tough lot, except for our poor little Izzy.’
‘In the circumstances you should phone Tommy.’
‘I intend to, Noola. I want him here with us at a time like this and I know darned well he’ll want to be here too. Poor Tommy – he’ll be appalled at his uncle’s involvement in this.’
The House by the Liffey Page 3