Chapter 8
I couldn’t have stated the implication more beautifully, and I would have leaned over to kiss Sidney soundly would it not have been inappropriate and draw attention away from O’s livid features.
Though he didn’t squirm externally, I could tell that inside he was doing all sorts of mental gymnastics to try to figure out how to respond.
Now, we had to be careful not to bait him too harshly.
We wanted his anger to ultimately be directed at Ardmore, not us.
“Your insinuations are ridiculous,” he began, though the expressions both Anderson and Sturgis sported suggested otherwise.
“These Shinners are intelligent devils. I have to give them credit for that, though I’d rather not.
They would be smart enough not to establish a weapons company under their own name.
No doubt, they thought it amusing to incriminate Lord Ardmore.
” He lifted his hand, waving it in emphasis.
“Perhaps this Captain Willoughby had a beef with His Lordship from his time with Naval Intelligence”—he tipped his head to me—“as I’m sure you’re aware, Ardmore was involved with. And that explains that.”
“Perhaps, but it wasn’t the rebels who suggested that weapons manufacturer to you,” Sidney countered softly.
O scoffed. “Who said anyone suggested anything to me?”
Sidney and I remained silent, allowing the inference that O had been the one to choose a rebel-owned weapons manufacturer.
Belatedly realizing this, he attempted to correct himself. “As I understood it, the lachrymatory agent was to come from our own military stores.”
“Had any military lorries gone missing?” Sidney asked.
O frowned at this change of direction. “What?”
“Had any military lorries gone missing?”
Anderson was the first to respond. “Not that I know of.” He glanced at his colleagues in confirmation.
“Then how did the rebels obtain one on which to load those phosgene cylinders disguised as tear gas?”
“Maybe one was never reported missing because they thought it was being used by the Crown Forces,” Sturgis suggested, running his fingers over his dark mustache. “After all, this Willoughby chap used to be a Naval Intelligence officer. He would know something of the drill.”
I elected not to counter this argument, able to tell that we had already planted enough doubts in the men’s minds.
Doubts that would hopefully continue to ferment and provoke them to begin asking questions of their own.
Questions that would ultimately lead to Ardmore’s downfall.
Contrary to popular belief, there were times when restraint was the most useful of tools.
“The investigation is ongoing,” Anderson eventually declared, his hands still clasped before him. “But I assure you, I will see to it that the matter is probed in its entirety, including the source of the cylinders.”
For the moment, Sidney and I had to be content with this response, though I still struggled to trust that everything promised would be done.
Anderson tapped his thumbs together. “As for the government’s explanation of your detainment. As I’m sure you can appreciate, it is a highly embarrassing situation.”
I arched a single eyebrow.
He hesitated. “Or perhaps ‘appreciate’ is not the appropriate word. As such, I don’t believe alleging that we mistakenly arrested a purportedly hysterical woman is the tack to take.” He aimed a stern glare at O. “Not after recent events and the ongoing debates in Parliament.”
Not having been allowed to read yesterday evening’s or today’s newspapers, I could only guess he referred to the siege of Tralee, the shooting of that pregnant mother, and the Black and Tans’ threats to journalists who dared to report the truth.
Sturgis tugged down on his knit waistcoat to straighten it. “Under the circumstances, and given Mrs. Kent’s distinguished record, wouldn’t it be suitable to simply reveal some of her service, particularly in conjunction with her husband?”
It was clear from O’s pinched lips that he did not like this suggestion.
Anderson surprised me by agreeing. “Yes, but we must tread with care since we still have a task for her.”
My heart stilled.
This was the first hint I’d been given that Sidney and I were not going to be allowed to leave Dublin.
I had anticipated leaving the castle and pausing briefly at our town house—no longer than a night—before carrying on straight to the ferry at Kingstown and back to England via Wales.
I had been prepared to leave the immediate problem of Ardmore in other people’s hands despite my antipathy toward him and my fear that he would never be exposed if Sidney and I weren’t the ones to do it.
Perhaps from a distance we would still continue to search for proof, but it was too dangerous for us here and I needed time to rest, to heal—both physically and mentally. Maybe then I would see a way forward.
But it sounded like we were not going to be allowed this option.
Anderson assessed me as he continued. “So we will reveal that Mr. and Mrs. Kent were sent here on a sensitive assignment , and she was arrested in error. We will make a public apology to both of them and thank them for their understanding and assistance.”
And paint a very large target on our backs with the rebels.
I could only hope that Alec was able to assure Collins and the rest of the IRA’s leadership that this was purely British rhetoric.
I could only hope he believed it. Otherwise, we might find ourselves stepping out of one fire into another when we left the Castle, facing assassination by Collins’s squad of elite gunmen.
I did not doubt Collins would give the order if he believed we’d revealed sensitive information to the Castle.
It was the reason why the rebellion had lasted this long.
He’d realized the only way to ensure they weren’t all rounded up and arrested was to intimidate or kill those who could identify them and those who sought to learn about and capture them.
In their struggle, it was silence or be silenced.
Permanently. And if not for Alec, Sidney and I probably would have been silenced months ago.
If Anderson was aware of the heightened danger he was placing us in, he didn’t show it. Sidney, for his part, still seemed unconscious of their true intentions for us. He nodded as if Anderson’s alternative was an acceptable one.
“Now, as to your connections with the rebels and this friend you mentioned …” Anderson segued, turning to O.
“We know that Captain Xavier is alive.” O’s smile was, I imagined, that of a spider who believes an annoying fly has finally become trapped in its web. But I was no mere fly.
“Of course, he’s alive,” I replied, having decided upon this course should Alec be mentioned. Sidney’s arm tensed against mine, but he managed to stifle any further reaction.
O narrowed his eyes. “Yet you reported him, what was it? ‘Likely deceased.’”
“In order to protect his identity,” I countered. “You said it yourself. Collins seems to have informants everywhere. And we knew the surest way to conceal his connection with British Intelligence was to sever it.”
O didn’t appear to be buying it. “Are you suggesting that Xavier has not, in fact, defected to the IRA?”
“As far as I’m aware, he hasn’t.” This was a blatant lie, but Alec had done far worse for me.
“He has merely taken precautions to protect himself. You’ve seen the way Collins treats spies.
Rarely do they make it past a second meeting with him before his informants discover the truth and the poor sap is made an example of.
Captain Xavier understands what he’s up against.” I looked squarely at each man in turn.
“And if you reveal this to anyone else or write any of it in your reports, he will be found out. So, please, I beg of you, don’t.
Not if you want a fighting chance of bringing Collins down. ”
“But Cumming isn’t aware of any of this,” Anderson argued.
“Our handler is,” I said. “And I would have made the Chief aware once I returned to London. Any other form of communication is too dangerous.”
It was clear none of the Castle’s men knew what to make of my claims. They were nebulous as best, but they also couldn’t be disproven.
Collins did have informants, and he had killed a number of British agents who’d been tasked with getting close to him.
The need for secrecy was genuine, and why C had not informed the normal structure of military intelligence of Alec’s assignment in the first place.
“What’s taking him so long?” O queried sharply and then qualified his statement. “To bring Collins down. He’s been part of his organization for months now. So what’s the holdup?”
“I thought you’d already apprehended him?” I retorted, recalling his claim the previous day.
O scowled. “The man was misidentified. It happens more than we like.”
I wanted to find amusement in this, but a sharp twinge in my abdomen made that difficult.
I pressed a hand over the dull ache which had plagued me ever since King’s vicious punch.
O’s eyes followed the movement. “For one, the phosgene cylinders,” I replied once I was able to speak evenly.
“We needed someone looking for evidence they’d fallen into the possession of the IRA.
And two …” I inhaled a deep breath, careful not to aggravate my sore muscles.
“He believes Collins is working on something big.” Alec hadn’t told me this, but it seemed like a plausible excuse.
“Something he’s not yet been willing to share with him. ”
“Collins does seem to have a sixth sense about who can be trusted,” Sturgis conceded.
Anderson sat taller in his chair. “Does he have any notion of what it might be?”
I shook my head, trying not to lay it on too thick. “Not that he’s shared with me. But I can tell it worries him.”
“Then he should set Collins up so we can bring him in and find out what it is,” O snapped.