“Did you have any success Officer Patterson?” asked a hopeful Major Thurston.
“I’m afraid Herrington’s has no record of a Samuel McGee lodging with them,” replied Patterson. “From that I assume your results proved the same.”
“Correct.” Turning towards the manager Thurston extended his appreciation.
“I thank you for your full cooperation with the Security Force. Officer Patterson and I shall leave you to your business. Please enjoy the rest of your evening.” Both men took their leave of the hotel and stood outside its main entrance.
“Officer Murray came to see me while I was waiting at Riverview Hotel. His efforts proved fruitless. There is still no word on Seargent Wilson, so I sent him to sort out any issues Wilson may have encountered. They shall meet us here when their inquiry at Regency Arms has concluded.”
Meantime, Sergeant Wilson had arrived at Regency Arms and entered the upscale establishment’s lobby. Out of the four possible hotels, it was certainly a cut above, though in a way of reserved elegance.
Approaching its front desk, he asked to see the manager. The duty clerk replied he was unavailable at present. Wilson waited patiently in the lobby.
Twenty minutes later Wilson became slightly annoyed and went to inquire how long the manager would be occupied. At that point the clerk stated it best he returned next morning to meet him. Wilson knew that was not possible on their tight schedule, finally showing his identification to press the matter forward.
Immediately the clerk went to find his manager. Another ten minutes passed before he returned with a rather stylish, proud looking gentleman in tow. Without turning a page in one ledger Wilson was already past Thurston’s deadline.
“My duty clerk came to interrupt me from important business,” stated the fashionable manager. “My name is Fenton. How may I assist you Seargent Wilson?”
“Yes Fenton, I am here on a confidential matter. With your cooperation I would like to see if a Samuel McGee is staying at your establishment.”
Regency Arm’s manager changed to a cooler demeanor on hearing Wilson’s request. “Seargent, you can appreciate Regency Arms extends top service to all its guests, which includes respecting their confidentiality. May I first see your credentials?”
Seargent Wilson deftly produced his documents. Fenton studied each paper carefully before handing them back to him.
“Well it appears all is in order. By complying with your request please respect our rules in return. Excuse me while I instruct our clerk to gather all necessary materials.”
Wilson nodded his head in agreement while Fenton took the clerk away in hushed tones. Soon Fenton returned to the front desk.
“Pardon me Seargent Wilson, can I offer you some tea while waiting? He should not be too long.”
“No thank you. I am already running a bit later than anticipated.”
“Of course Seargent Wilson. I see the clerk has returned with our ledgers. Come over here and we shall look over them together.”
Finally Wilson and Fenton were combing through the sign in book. It did not take long before Wilson’s eyes lit up in excitement. He pointed a rigid finger at a flowing signature.
“Fenton, there’s our man!” he exclaimed. “With your help I must speak to him this instant. Could you please escort me up to the correct room?”
Fenton gave Wilson a dour look of disapproval. “Seargent Wilson, we must respect our guests at such a late hour. Surely the matter can wait until a more civilized time tomorrow!”
“My apologies Fenton but we must speak to Samuel McGee at once. He is connected to a matter of vital importance which requires his immediate support. Tomorrow morning may be too late!”
“Seargent Wilson, with all due respect, I cannot see…” Both men turned abruptly towards the hotel entrance to see Officer Murray walking briskly towards them. To be certain he bore a look of sheer determination.
“Good evening gentlemen. I assume you are the manager at Regency Arms. My name is Officer Murray with the British Security Force. Have you been able to assist our seargent on this crucial matter?”
Fenton became demoralized in the face of two pressing officers. “Yes, we were just about to pay Mr. McGee a visit. I assume you can vouch for Officer Murray’s identification Seargent Wilson?”
Wilson nodded in confirmation. “Can we go to Samuel McGee’s room now?”
“Follow behind me gentlemen. Please keep in mind the hour of evening and consider your noise level. He is staying on the second floor in Room 207.”
Both officers exchanged promising glances as they ascended the ornate staircase. When they reached the second floor landing, Regency Arms’ manager turned back to address them.
“I will go ahead and inform Mr. McGee he has unexpected company. When he is ready I will signal for you both to come inside. Are we in agreement gentlemen?”
Sergeant Wilson and Officer Murray nodded their consent. Fenton walked towards Room 207 and knocked discretely on the door. Pausing for an acknowledgement, he heard nothing. Again he tapped with more emphasis, though still no response came forth.
Thinking McGee was fast asleep, he tried opening the door, which was locked. He looked back at the officers and showed his duplicate set of keys. Finally he gained access to the room.
Expecting to startle McGee, he prepared to offer an apology. Surprisingly, the vacant space was a touch cooler due to an open window. Fenton rushed outside and signaled for the officers to come at once.
“Mr. McGee must have gone through the window! How can this be?” deduced a confused Fenton. Officer Murray spotted knotted linens tied to the sturdy bedpost. Spying below, he could make out a shadowy figure jumping off the makeshift bedding rope.
“He’s escaping, but we may still catch him!” cried out Murray as he ran to the door. Seargent Wilson followed in hot pursuit. Rushing downstairs, they hit a marbled floor with great speed and went through the hotel lobby. Officer Murray could make out McGee about a half block ahead.
“Samuel McGee, stop on authority of the British Security Force!” he hollered out. “We have orders to detain and question you. Please stop at once!”
The suspect kept on running, ignoring Murray’s order. In fact, the officers were about to lose sight of him as he rounded a brick building’s corner to their right hand side. Murray desperately hoped they had not lost the trail of their suspect. If so, all their efforts would be laid to waste.
Immediately the crisp night air was shattered with a shrill yell of intense pain. A frantically racing Officer Murray came to a hurried stop once he rounded the corner. In front of him was a most unusual sight. Major Thurston cowered over a writhing figure laid out on the cobblestone. Lingering beside Thurston stood an attentive Officer Patterson. Both men snapped their gaze upwards to face the panting Murray.
“How in land’s sake have you two come upon him like that?” gasped a startled Officer Murray. “I thought you were waiting at Herrington’s for our arrival?”
“Call it many years of learned intuition,” replied Thurston. “When your assistance did not make fast work of the matter at Regency Arms I could take no further chances. Patterson and I were coming down the lane here when we heard you compelling Samuel McGee to stop. We could not believe our good fortune when he came around the corner, eyes turned behind him. From there it was easy work to subdue him.”
Finally Seargent Wilson caught up to join the scene. “Well, who shall I congratulate for the winning blow?” he laughed.
“That would be me,” replied Major Thurston. “No time for loitering about here. Restrain him with handcuffs and let’s head back to headquarters. We do not want to attract any more attention to this incident if possible.”
Seargent Wilson pulled McGee off the ground and placed crude iron rings around his wrists before locking the device in place. He marched McGee ahead of himself while follow
ing the contingent back to headquarters.
On reaching their destination everyone headed towards Thurston’s office. McGee had been silent throughout his ordeal, though everyone knew high time had come for answers. With all involved seated about his large desk, a highly motivated Major Thurston wasted no time in starting his interrogation.
“Hello Samuel McGee, my name is Major Thurston of the British Security Force. We have brought you to our headquarters on a matter of grave importance.
“Through the aid of a trusted informant we have reason to believe you possess certain knowledge on the whereabouts of a wanted man. His name is Peter Harvey. With your full cooperation we shall be able to apprehend him. Have you any questions thus far?”
Samuel displayed remarkable composure, considering such a drastic turn of events. Just an hour or so earlier he was enjoying a deserved rest before being awakened by the front desk clerk. He told Samuel two Security Force agents were downstairs trying to ascertain his whereabouts. On hearing this dramatic news, Samuel determined to make a quick escape from Regency Arms.
Grateful for the warning, he realized there was little time before these officers made their way upstairs. With no routine means of departure available, Samuel settled upon a brazen window escape.
Precious time was consumed knotting together his substitution for a rope, though it performed well enough. To his ultimate disappointment, he was spotted right before clearing sight of the building. If only he had been spared a few more minutes, his escape would have been a complete success.
“Perhaps you did not understand me the first time Samuel McGee. You are him correct? Can we count on your assistance for the capture of this fugitive? Believe me; it would be best to furnish a response.”
“I am Samuel McGee,” the captured man reluctantly stated. “But you know that already from the records at Regency Arms. Furthermore, you also know I recognize the name Peter Harvey, since he is a member of our Common Man Movement.”
Then McGee pointed to a pile of reports in plain view on Thurston’s desk. “I am surprised there is anything you do not know, judging by all of those dossiers stacked up over there!
“As for the dirty business of relying on an informant’s word, we both can reason their credibility is an arbitrary thing even in the best of times. How would I know where Peter Harvey is located?”
“Now we have established a working rapport,” an engaged Thurston mused. “Your account thus far is greatly appreciated except for one discrepancy. Before continuing, let me show you certain details which prove our informant was um, let’s say, on very intimate terms with your every thought and discretion?
“I can show you a few examples which prove the fidelity of their work. Read these issues which troubled your conscience before the first rally at Greenhill. Oh, and peruse those scandalous goings on right before the big event in Cork! Care to read Samuel?”
Thurston thrust forward two reports opened at the precise points he noted. Samuel skimmed over both as his heart beat with primal rage. Betrayal welled up bitter vile which burned his throat inside.
Samuel slammed both reports shut and threw them back onto the pile. There were no words to describe the hollow feeling of having deep confidences laid bare. When they were sacrificed in such ruthless fashion to an assumed enemy, it went beyond all comprehension.
“Well Major Thurston, you seem to have chosen your plant well. Or did they choose you? Printed there are things I relayed to one of unforeseen treachery. No doubt you have compiled numerous other private discretions in those reports. But I challenge you to show me even one paragraph which states I had intimate knowledge of Peter Harvey’s private dealings, let alone his current whereabouts!”
Major Thurston cast his stern stare about the room. He knew McGee chose his words well. That was confirmed by the blank expressions returned by his seated officers. Having no other options to avail upon, he was pressed to use a time honored tactic. Thus, Major Thurston reluctantly deployed a new line of questioning.
“Samuel McGee, I do admire your deep sense of loyalty. No one can doubt such unwavering dedication to your Common Man Movement. Your service in various capacities to the Malloy family is beyond reproach. You are a smart man indeed, so why don’t we look with pragmatic eyes on the current situation?
“We were given written information from the same individual who related your most closely held secrets that you know where Harvey is located. In addition, it has been firmly established you hold an unshakeable loyalty to the Common Man Movement. Unfortunately Samuel, there is no time left for false protestation. By the time you leave this office I will know the exact location of Peter Harvey.”
Samuel had foreknowledge of many brutal tactics the Security Force could employ to reach their aims. Beyond the attempted assassination of Duncan Malloy, he heard both first and second hand accounts of their vicious initiatives. From the moment of his detainment, Samuel knew he could be subject to any range of foul techniques.
“Major Thurston, it should be obvious from your previous surveillance I speak plainly and to the point. Peter Harvey did not appear for the rally at Foundation Hall. It was said he had personal business to attend, which seemed reasonable enough.
“Now here I am in your headquarters after being kidnapped in the dead of night. You say some secret informant tells you I know the location of Peter Harvey. Seems strange to me when I only learned earlier in the day he would not be at Foundation Hall! The whole thing smacks of desperation. I shall take my leave and file a complaint with the police tomorrow.”
Thurston pounded his desk hard before releasing a wicked laugh. “If only it were so simple McGee! Under normal circumstances I would find your reply very compelling and probably release you.
“However, you are correct. I am desperate to find Peter Harvey. My pressures are the same as yours; though believe me when I say it is a matter of life and death for this detachment. So allow me to fill you in on what I know.
“Do you recognize the gentleman seated over there? He certainly remembers your face. While bringing you here to headquarters Officer Patterson reminded me of the fact you were spotted with Duncan Malloy rushing into Goodhope House, right after the shooting at Wheatstone Fields. A few days later you were off to Goodhope House for another meeting.
“All well and good you may think, with nothing proved thus far. Ah, but my tired mind can still remember things. I recalled your face a few moments ago from when you visited the local police quarters. You had just finished talking with the duty officer. Well, after you left I asked him who you were and what you wanted to know. He told me all, being such a talkative fellow.”
Samuel still heard nothing to prove he knew where Peter Harvey was located. “Major, can you explain how this relates to me and your search for Peter?”
“Good question McGee. I apologize for my digressions. Well, in those reports our informant mentions one celebratory evening after a particularly successful rally. In a moment of uncharacteristic indiscretion you let your guard slip. It mentions you saying “the movement is able to protect themselves from harm.”
“Our plant was crafty indeed, with a remarkable memory to boot. They said you boasted about your status as an organizer for valued members in difficulties with authorities? No, the exact words in the report are “we help them leave their old identities and go off to new lives” if I recall correctly.
“Ah there, don’t feel too remorseful McGee. We all have to lay our confidences with someone to keep some semblance of sound mind. Fortunately most of us do so with capable upstanding individuals. Alas, in your case it was sheer folly to trust one of the most beguiling deceivers I have ever learned of. Now damn you, stop wasting my time and reveal him to me!”
Overwhelming anguish flooded every part of Samuel’s weary body. He had no doubt whatsoever his traitor was a man whose grandfather, like his, fought with those same Wexford Irishmen in the R
ebellion of 1798. This man’s father also regaled a young Samuel with tales of cherished history that their magical Island held for so long.
As children they played on the same abandoned tenant’s field in County Mayo. Then pressures of pending adulthood took root, so his friend left their county to pursue the oddest of professions. He was taken by life on the road, sending delightful correspondence to Samuel every so often.
Then, after just one year, all communication ceased. Finally, in a surprising twist, he reappeared in Greenhill two years ago. Samuel and he met again, managing to rekindle their boyhood alliance, which developed further while cementing old bonds.
All these fond memories lay in tatters at the foot of this old enemy. Samuel was irreparably harmed by the grand deceit exposed before him. Summoning any remaining resolve, he tried to front a courageous face against Major Thurston’s directive. Samuel was emotionally shattered, though he remained determined to defend his last vestiges of honor.
“There is nothing more to say Major Thurston,” spoke a defiant Samuel. “This is another unlawful action by your renegade detachment which will not go unpunished. Believe me when I say all of your gross indecencies here tonight shall be made public. I demand once again to be set free at once!”
Major Thurston rose abruptly from his chair and went towards Samuel McGee. Standing behind him, he gently placed his right hand on McGee’s left shoulder.
“Understand Samuel I thoroughly admire your extreme sense of loyalty. In fact, it’s a quality all men of service should have in abundance. However, you are not here tonight for enlistment. Samuel, with all these facts weighing against you there’s no chance of leaving our custody. Nothing could convince me you do not know where Peter Harvey is located.
“Therefore two choices are available to you. Your first option is to tell us his whereabouts and be able to walk out of our headquarters immediately. I am sure Aidan Malloy would do more harm to a perceived traitor than anything I could devise.
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