Chapter 27
A sideways glimpse of Sidney’s locked jaw informed me that he was also aware we had two tails.
We carried on past City Hall and up Castle Street, veering into the churchyard for Christ Church Cathedral.
There, I employed a tactic I’d utilized once before to avoid being followed, pausing as if to scrutinize something on the exterior of the building to ensure the men lingered on the street outside the wrought-iron fence.
Then, I rounded the cathedral and diverted down an alley and out a side street, moving swiftly toward the river.
Sidney gamely followed my lead, never once questioning my movements.
We turned east at the River Liffey, following the quays back in the direction we’d come, stopping every so often to make sure our trail had not been picked up again.
Though I felt fairly certain we’d lost them, I took a circuitous route through the Temple Bar area before finally passing leisurely by the businesses along the narrow lane of Crow Street.
I didn’t know precisely which of the offices was being utilized by Collins’s intelligence service, but I was sure it stood along this unassuming alley.
More than once over the past months, I’d spied one of his men entering it.
Still, I marveled at the audacity of the premises being so close to the Castle that it sat nearly in its shadow. Yet, it had thus far escaped detection.
I had no way of knowing if Alec would be there or if our passage would be noticed, but given what we’d just learned, what we’d just been asked to do, I needed to speak with him.
Preferably in a place that was not our home.
His showing up there had always been risky, but now it was particularly so, given the confirmation that we were under surveillance.
We returned to the river, pausing on Wellington Quay to peer out over the cement embankment at the Liffey.
Alec and I had met here before, so if he’d been in Crow Street, I presumed he’d know where to find us.
The water eddied and swirled past the pillars of Grattan Bridge, and rocked the skiffs moored along the opposite shore.
The twin towers of the Ormond Quay Presbyterian Church pierced the skyline almost directly across, while the dome of the Four Courts towered in the distance.
I checked the watch affixed to my cinnamon-brown wool coat, deciding we’d wait fifteen minutes before moving on. Alec appeared in less than three, sidling up to my side before I’d even noticed him.
“Do you want Mick to reconsider his willingness to let you roam free,” he grumbled, evidently displeased by my knowledge of where one of the IRA’s intelligence headquarters was located. Or perhaps he was merely unhappy about my airing of it.
“We didn’t have a choice,” I said by way of explanation.
“We’ve just come from the Castle. Circuitously,” I clarified, though he peered over his shoulders anyway, checking to see if we were being watched.
“Ardmore is wanted for questioning, but he’s gone to ground.
And while O has been charged with finding him, it’s clearly not his priority.
” I turned to look at Alec. “Catching your Mick is. And I’ve been ordered to hand him over or I won’t be allowed to leave Ireland. ”
Alec swore. “Obviously, Mick’s ploy didn’t work.”
“It did. But there’s you. Recall, I had to convince them you’re still working for the ‘goodies.’” I used the term facetiously.
He grunted. “So what you need is a useful piece of intelligence to buy yourself some time.”
I didn’t know whether to view his assumption that we’d not turn in Collins as a compliment or dangerously na?ve.
Alec nodded. “I’ll find you something.”
“We also need to find Ardmore,” Sidney stated, pulling his battered cigarette case from his pocket.
The one I’d given him as a wedding present that he’d taken to war with him.
“None of us are safe while he’s on the loose.
Not when he must know where the evidence against him came from.
” He extracted one of his special Turkish blend cigarettes before offering one to Alec.
“If only we could find Willoughby,” Alec replied after both men had lit their fags and taken drags. He narrowed his eyes as he blew smoke out toward the river. “He might know where Ardmore is hiding.”
I shared a glance with Sidney, realizing we hadn’t told Alec yet about our encounter in Trinity College Park. “We did,” I said. “Find Willoughby, that is. Or rather, he found us.”
“When?” Alec demanded to know, unhappy to be just hearing this news.
“The day of the military procession.” Alec scowled, but before he could chastise us, I continued. “Recall, we were all just a little preoccupied with our recent discovery the last time we saw you.” I also hadn’t forgiven him yet for his part in Bloody Sunday.
Sidney leaned his hands against the embankment, flicking ash into the river beyond. “He’s supposed to be using his contacts to try to discover where Ardmore is hiding the explosives he got from Harlow and what he intends to do with them.”
“And you trust he’ll actually tell you?” Alec challenged.
Sidney shrugged one shoulder. “He seemed pretty motivated to get revenge. But would I rely on him alone to uncover what we need? No.” He fastened a peeved glare on Alec.
“That’s why we’re telling you. So you can do likewise.
” He turned away, taking a long drag from his cigarette before griping. “Someone must know something.”
“I’ll find out what I can,” Alec agreed. “Check in with Finnegan every so often.” By his gruff tone, I deduced he’d realized why we’d come to him rather than the other way around. His head turned abruptly so that his dark gaze met mine. “And stay away from Crow Street.”
I nodded.
“Keep us apprised of this peace move, as well,” Sidney requested as Alec pitched the rest of his fag into the river and turned to go. “If a truce is going to be signed, we want to be prepared.”
Alec didn’t pretend to misunderstand, nodding once, before he hurried away.
“Prepared?” I asked Sidney.
Sidney dropped his cigarette, grinding it out underneath his heel. “To get the hell out of here.” I supposed he was thinking that O couldn’t stop us if there was no longer a need to capture Collins.
This time, Sidney was the one to direct our steps, and I accompanied him willingly down the quay toward the nearest tram stop.
There were no places inside, so we climbed to the top deck, holding the balcony rail.
Across the floor were pasted notices selling Cinna-Mint chewing gum and Bovril.
The air was cold against my cheeks, but undoubtedly fresher than below.
“How long have you known about the office on Crow Street?” Sidney asked me as the tram picked up speed, the wind drowning out his voice should anyone be listening.
I turned to look at his rigid profile, unable to tell precisely what bothered him—the fact that I knew the location of such a critical operation of the republican cause or the fact I hadn’t told him.
“Since perhaps late June. Though I didn’t know for certain.
It was merely a logical deduction made from observation. ”
He cursed under his breath. “Good God, Ver!”
I stiffened at the anger in his tone but suppressed any further reaction so as not to draw the attention of the other passengers.
“By all rights, you should be dead,” he murmured sharply. “If any of them realized—any of them—how much you know, they could kill you just to guarantee your silence. And O—” He broke off with a delirious laugh. “Or C. If they knew—”
I pressed my hand to his where it rested against the rail, cutting off his rant. “They don’t.” When it appeared he was about to argue, I squeezed. “They don’t.”
“But if they did …” he hissed, his gaze tormented.
I inhaled past the tightness that filled my chest at the thought. “Yes, well … let’s just be glad they don’t.”
He shook his head, either marveling at my capabilities or my foolishness. It seemed to be the former, for he grumbled, “If I hear another military intelligence officer deride the effectiveness of women as agents, I’ll sock them in the jaw, so help me.”
A small smile curled my lips at hearing his vexation on my behalf—on all of our behalf.
My fellow female operatives and I had certainly heard enough unfounded criticism to last a lifetime, and yet we couldn’t complain to anyone who could do anything about it because we were silenced by the Defense of the Realm Act, and to do so would be to prove them right that we couldn’t hold our tongues.
Sidney exhaled a long breath, regaining control of himself just as we needed to focus on maintaining our feet around the turn at Westland Row. I’d thought the discussion was ended, but he had one more surprise to offer.
“Maybe we should be considering O’s order about Collins.”
My head snapped around to look at him and then turned to survey those around us to ensure none of them had heard. “Are you serious?”
“Why aren’t we considering it, Ver? It’s not just because of Xavier, is it?” His voice dipped lower. “Because that was an order he gave. And we are now treading on dangerous territory, Ver. Treasonous territory.”
“Not if the truce is signed.”
He made no response to this, plainly finding the likelihood of that to be low.
“Is this about the traitors in your battalion?” I asked. After all, he’d risked everything to catch them and I couldn’t imagine he relished being branded one himself.
When he turned to look over the side of the tram at the people scurrying along the pavement below rather than meet my eye, I knew I was correct, at least partially.
“Normally I would agree with you, but”—I tightened my grip on the railing—“what’s happening here isn’t right, Sidney. My certainty of that resides in the same hollow space behind my breastbone that I felt when I read those documents we recovered in Belgium.”