Chapter 30
When morning came, City Hall was still standing, and hours later the British Crown Forces took it over, evicting the lord mayor and the Dublin Corporation.
We had no proof that Ardmore had used the rumor it would be blown up as a means of drawing me out, but we also had no proof the building had actually ever been under threat.
I wanted to press Sturgis about O’s informant, but he was preparing to leave for London to spend Christmas with his wife and children and sent his apologies when I cabled him to request a meeting.
We’d heard nothing about Alec. Not where he’d been taken by his fellow republicans, and not that he’d been arrested or his body found. I considered going to the Castle myself simply to verify that this was true, but Sidney forbade me, saying we would know soon enough if the worst had happened.
As for the silence from the rebels, by midday I could no longer abide it.
So I sent Nimble off to Finnegan at the bank with a missive.
This one addressed to MacAlister at Devlin’s pub in Great Britain Street.
It was a popular haunt for Collins and his associates, and I trusted they would know who the telegram was meant for and that my threat to storm every republican stronghold I knew of until I found out what had happened to Alec was not idle.
It was always a risk issuing an ultimatum to a man like Collins, but given his own recent losses, I expected he would understand.
After all, when his friends McKee and Clancy had been killed at the Castle, he’d insisted upon being there at the mortuary chapel in the pro-cathedral when their coffins were opened to examine their battered bodies despite the detectives and informants hanging about outside to see who would show up.
He’d spoken at their funeral Mass and carried their coffins, knowing that the Crown Forces could burst into the proceedings at any moment and arrest him.
He appreciated the importance of loyalty and friendship.
So when a response arrived for me a couple hours later, delivered by a runner boy who scampered off, I wasn’t surprised, but I was relieved.
It instructed me to go to the Mater Misericordiae Hospital.
Whether I would be visiting the trauma ward or the morgue, it did not specify.
Nonetheless, Sidney and I departed immediately.
Located north of the city, the Mater sat across the road from Mountjoy Prison and had seen its fair share of republican activity, starting with the Easter Rising in 1916 when it had treated injured combatants.
I had been inside its walls just once to question a nursing sister about a murder victim. This situation was much more fraught.
A nun at the reception desk had plainly been told to expect us, directing us toward the maternity ward.
Sidney and I exchanged a surprised glance, but neither of us spoke, both deducing this was yet another of Collins’s ruses to prevent his men’s discovery should the hospital be raided.
Indeed, when we reached the doors to the ward, we were met by the Big Fellow himself.
This was not my first time meeting Michael Collins, though it was difficult not to look at him differently since Bloody Sunday.
He certainly cut an imposing figure. Or perhaps that was a byproduct of his reputation.
Irrespective, he was tall and broad-shouldered with a brawler’s frame.
His thick, dark hair was in need of a haircut and sported a crease where the soft hat clutched in his hand must have rested over it while it was drying.
A dustcoat was draped over his arm indicating he’d been here at least long enough to remove it.
I hurried toward him, and a spark of mischief entered his eyes as they shifted to Sidney behind me. “MacAlister will be disappointed you brought a guest,” he quipped.
Collins’s habit of baiting others was one of his least charming attributes, but at the moment I was merely happy to hear him speak of Alec as not only alive but able to interact with us.
“How is he?” I asked.
He searched my features, perhaps disappointed he’d not riled or embarrassed me with his remark. Then he pushed open the door to the maternity ward and gestured for me to precede him. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”
I hesitated but a second before doing as he urged.
“Second bed on the right,” he called out to guide me.
I hurried past the first bed, only to come up short at the curtain drawn around the second. Turning to Sidney, I wondered if perhaps he should be the first to enter to ensure Alec’s modesty.
“I doubt he’s worried about ye seein’ him in his altogether,” Collins murmured.
This comment earned a glare from me before I pushed aside the fabric and entered.
Alec lay in a hospital bed, a thick bandage over his right shoulder.
His skin was pale from blood loss, and his chest seemed to rise and fall with great effort during each inhalation.
But his eyes were open, the pupils constricted, suggesting he’d been dosed with morphine for the pain.
He’d undoubtedly heard Collins’s remark, for his first words, weakly spoken, were for him. “Leave her be, Mick.”
I approached the left side of his bed, clasping the hand he offered me. Though I’d thought I’d cried myself dry the previous evening, tears spilled down my cheeks. “I deserve whatever taunts he wants to hurl at me. After all, I’m the reason you were shot.”
“No, Ver.” He scowled at Collins. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
I started to protest, but he squeezed my hand, halting my words.
“We had reason to believe Ardmore was spreading disinformation about an upcoming attack. We even suspected the purpose might be to discredit you.” His dark eyes were stricken.
“I didn’t think to wonder if the real objective might be you until I received your message.
That’s what I was trying to mouth to you in the street before we reached you.
That it was all a phony ploy. But Ardmore stepped between us. ”
“And I chased after him,” I finished for him.
He nodded. “Had we shared our suspicions, that might have changed matters.”
Collins now looked on with an expression akin to regret.
“Still, you took a bullet for me,” I told Alec in some distress.
“Aw, don’t cry, Ver,” Alec coaxed. “Sidney intended to do the same. I just got there first.”
Sidney stepped forward then, his trilby in his hands. “Thank God, you did. I’ll be forever grateful to you, Xavier.”
He seemed uncomfortable with this confession, rolling his good shoulder as if trying to find a more comfortable position. “Yeah, well, next time I’ll let you have the privilege. This is the second bullet I’ve caught in your company.”
“You said that already,” I replied good-naturedly, swiping at my cheeks with my free hand.
“Did I? Well, it seems like I should at least get a kiss this time around for my trouble.”
I shook my head at his posturing, able to recognize when a man was avoiding his emotions.
I could also tell that while it was spoken in jest, that this meant a great deal to him.
So I leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek just above the dark shadow of his stubble.
Sidney would understand. His love wasn’t the jealous kind.
“And incidentally, I don’t intend for there to be a next time,” I said as I straightened.
He had closed his eyes, but he opened them again at this remark. “You’re retiring.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded. My jaw hardened. “Just as soon as Ardmore is caught. I don’t care what my orders are. I’ll threaten to go to the press, if need be.” I narrowed my eyes. “We’ll just see who calls whose bluff.”
None of the men tried to convince me otherwise. I suspected they would all be glad to see me out of danger or no longer causing them complications.
“So now would be the time to tell us if there’s anything else you’ve learned about Ardmore,” I informed Alec and Collins.
They appeared to confer with one another with their eyes, but neither spoke up. I didn’t trust this meant they had nothing to share.
“Are you aware that Ardmore has been in contact with Brugha? That he intends to appeal to de Valera on his return to Dublin?” Collins frowned, but I persisted. “That he believes de Valera might prove more amenable to his persuasion.”
The Big Fellow shook his head. “Dev would never be so foolish.”
But Alec wasn’t as sanguine. “I don’t know, Mick.
You know Dev doesn’t like to hear any praise of you.
Ardmore is just the type of fellow who might be able to convince him you’re the problem.
That you turned down his offer of funding and supplies of arms because you didn’t wish to give up any power. ”
Collins paced back and forth in the small space, considering and then discarding Alec’s words. “No, Dev would see through such tripe. At the very least, he’d listen when I explained. We’ve already come this far.”
But Alec didn’t look convinced.
In any case, forewarned was forearmed.
“What of the peace initiative? Is the door well and truly closed?” I asked Collins.
“I’m afraid so. The terms simply weren’t honorable.
They wanted our arms, and they wanted Mulcahy, and they wanted me.
And while I thank no one for refraining from murdering me, in truth, I have hefty doubts that I’ll get to enjoy the peace and independence we’ve worked so hard for.
Though such a thing hardly matters in the balance of Ireland’s rights.
” He planted his hands on his hips. “Still, it’s hardly a truce they’re asking for, but a capitulation. ”