The Trojan boy

NINE

Jarvis searched Shelby’s body and removed his gun. He gave it to Avedissian saying, 'You'd better have this.' He then pulled the corpse away from the door and looked around until he had found the room key. 'We'll lock it behind us,’ he said. That should give us a little extra time before someone finds this mess.' He looked distastefully at the needle protruding from under Roker's fingernail then said, 'Let's go.'

'The hotel has a side-entrance,’ said Jarvis as they hurried along the corridor. 'It'll be safer. Use the stairs,’ he added as Avedissian stopped at the elevators.

Avedissian, carrying the boy, who was still unconscious, followed Jarvis through the swing-doors leading to the fire-escape stairs while Kathleen held them open for him. They met no one on the way down and Jarvis put away the gun he had been holding ready in his hand.

The side-entrance to the hotel was used solely as a goods entrance so there was no call for decor or furnishings in the passages leading to it. Open pipe work crowded the ceiling and plain, white-washed walls lined their route. The hum of ventilation machinery was loud in their ears but seemed to do little to dispel the smell of food from the oppressively warm air. The clangs of kitchen utensils and the sound of voices were somewhere near but no one crossed their path.

As they came to the unimposing little side-door they paused to catch their breath. Kathleen pulled the blanket back from the boy's face and looked at him. 'Poor little mite,’ she said. 'How could they do it?'

The question had been rhetorical but it triggered off an idea in Avedissian's head. He suddenly bundled the boy into Kathleen's arms and said, 'I've got to go back! I won't be long.' He was gone before either Kathleen or Jarvis had had a chance to protest.

Avedissian climbed the stairs two at a time and was breathing hard by the time he reached Jarvis's floor and started running along the corridor. He tried the room door and found it locked; Jarvis still had the key. He drew back to the opposite side of the corridor and took a run at the door, crashing into it with his left shoulder. There was a splintering sound but the lock still held. It took two more attempts before the door flew back on its hinges and crashed open against the wall.

Avedissian could hear doors opening as people came out to investigate the commotion but there was no time to concern himself with that. He was only going to be a few seconds. He collected what he had come for and ran back along the corridor, brushing clumsily past a fat lady in dressing-gown and curlers who snorted her disapproval.

'What on earth did you go back for?' asked Kathleen when Avedissian re-appeared.

'The boy's future,' gasped Avedissian, still out of breath. 'Let's get out of here. I created a bit of a stir up there.'

Avedissian took the boy from Kathleen while Jarvis opened both inner and outer fly-screen doors. Jarvis looked out both ways before saying, 'It's all clear.'

They hurried towards an illuminated sign that told them where the exit from the underground garage was and stopped at the head of the ramp. Jarvis said, 'Wait here with the boy. I'll bring up the car.'

As they waited in quiet limbo, Avedissian looked up. The air was still and warm and the sky laden with stars. A faint smell of blossom made him think of Cambridge in England. He was trying to recall the name of a piece of music coming faintly from an upper floor of the hotel when a sudden violent, but muffled, explosion rocked the building and shattered the peace of the night.

Black smoke billowed up from the garage and hung indecisively round the entrance like a great cloud in search of a breeze. Avedissian and Kathleen stared at the sight in disbelief, both unwilling to believe what they feared must have happened. But there was no escaping it: Jarvis must be dead. There had been a bomb in the car.

'What do we do?' asked Kathleen, her eyes filled with fear.

'We get away from here,' said Avedissian, unable to think beyond the moment.

They hurried along the lane and paused briefly to look back at the scene. The smoke was thinning. It drifted past the neon sign at the garage like a cloud across the moon. A group of people had now congregated at the head of the ramp and the sound of approaching sirens was becoming insistent.

As they watched, a long black saloon car entered the lane and three men got out. They seemed more interested in the sight of the man carrying the child at the far end of the lane than in what had happened in the garage below.

They're NORAID!' said Avedissian. 'Let's move!'

'Where are we going?' gasped Kathleen as they raced down the side-street at the end of the lane.

'To find a cab!' answered Avedissian, his arms aching with the weight of the boy.

Kathleen risked a glance back and said in a voice courting Panic, They're gaining!'

'Keep going!' urged Avedissian. He could see the lights of the main thoroughfare fifty metres ahead but knew that they were being rapidly caught. 'When we turn the corner, you take the boy! '

They turned the corner and Avedissian bundled the boy over to Kathleen and said, 'Go and find a cab! I'll hold them off!'

Kathleen did as she was bid and Avedissian drew out the pistol that had been taken from the dead American. He waited with his cheek pressed up against the cold stone of the wall until he could hear the sound of running footsteps grow louder. For an instant he was back in Belfast, a long time ago. The fear in his stomach had a strange sexuality about it, danger, excitement, heightened awareness, a feeling only to be experienced on the very edge of disaster.

Holding the pistol in both hands and at arm's length, Avedissian stepped out smartly and dropped to one knee to fire at the approaching figures.

With the first bullet one of the running men pitched forward and fell to the ground. Avedissian heard a gun clatter from his grasp. The other man took panic in mid-flight and tried to stop too quickly. His arms and legs flailed in unsynchronised action as he sought cover from the totally unexpected. He loosed off a couple of wild shots in Avedissian's direction but was hopelessly off-balance. Avedissian held the gun on him and squeezed the trigger twice.

The street was silent. There were two bodies lying in it and no sign of the third man who had been in the black saloon.

Avedissian waited for a few moments, holding the gun in front of him, ready to fire at the slightest movement, but all was quiet. He put the gun away and hurried off to find Kathleen. He found her sitting in a yellow cab by the kerb, some two hundred metres from where he had left her. She was having a discussion with the driver about payment for waiting time.

‘The Rainbow Inn,' said Avedissian, getting in the cab and putting an end to the conversation. Kathleen almost fainted with relief at the sight of him. 'Are you all right?' she whispered. Avedissian nodded in reply.

'You folks are English?' said the driver.

'We're visiting relations,' said Avedissian.

'And you are staying in the Rainbow Inn?' said the driver. 'Guess your relations ain't got much room.'

Avedissian silently cursed nosey cab drivers.

'Is the kid sick?' asked the driver.

'Just tired.'

'Well, it's late,’ said the driver. 'Maybe too late for a little kid like that

'You know how it is, all the relations want to see him. It won't do him any harm.'

'Guess not.'

Avedissian was relieved to see the illuminated 'Rainbow Inn' sign come up on their right-hand side. 'Just drop us here,' he said to the driver.

'I can take you right into the parking lot.'

This is fine.'

Avedissian gave the man the fare and a big tip and was glad to see the back of him. He looked around for inspiration and saw the sign of a fast food restaurant. 'In there,' he said to Kathleen. 'We have to talk.'

It was late and there was only a handful of people in the restaurant. They found a booth well away from the others and settled the boy in the corner. Avedissian checked the child's pulse surreptitiously and said, 'He's all right.' He bought coffee at the counter and returned to join Kathleen.

'We're in big trouble,' he said. 'I thought we might be able to check in at the Rainbow for the night but I've changed my mind. All NORAID have to do is ask the local taxi drivers about a couple with a child and they would find us. They're already going to find out about our "English" accents.'

'So what can we do?' asked Kathleen.

'I'll pick up the car from the car park and we'll drive somewhere.'

'What about the boy? Doesn't he need proper care at a hospital?'

'We can't risk it. We can't answer all the questions they would ask. They would call the police. I can look after him if I can get what I need.'

Avedissian left Kathleen and the boy in the restaurant and went to pick up their car. The parking lot seemed free of people when he got there but he stood for a few moments in the shadows to make sure. The fewer people who saw him the better. Satisfied that he was alone, he crossed quickly to the BMW and unlocked the door. The interior smelled of newness and leather. Outside, the lights of the Inn were reflected in the paintwork of the bonnet.

He inserted the ignition key and froze, sitting motionless for a moment, cold with fear as he recalled the pall of black smoke outside the Plaza Hotel. Surely the IRA could not have known about this car? he reasoned. It was conceivable that Innes had found out about Jarvis being at the same hotel but surely not about the other car he’d parked at the Rainbow?

Avedissian could not turn the key. He let it go and pulled the bonnet release instead.

What was to be a reassuring look under the hood turned out to be the inspiration of a nightmare for there, strapped to the engine cover with bright yellow sticky tape, was a rectangular lump of something that looked like Plasticine.

The muscles in Avedissian's throat contracted and he held his breath as he traced the path of the two wires emanating from one end of the lump. One went to the ignition coil, the other to an earth point on the body. He saw the simple logic of it. If he had turned the key, power would have flowed from the battery to the coil and from the coil to the detonator in the plastic. He lowered the bonnet and walked away from the car.

Avedissian's mind reeled with the realisation that it had not been the IRA who had blown up Jarvis at all. It must have been Bryant's doing! It had been Bryant clearing up after a particularly dirty operation. No witnesses were to be left alive. He, Kathleen and the boy had been meant to die in whatever car they had chosen to use.

Avedissian heard the doors to the hotel open and, from the shadows, saw some men spill out onto the street.

'I could do with some fun,' said one of them loudly. These conventions bore me stiff.'

'Let's see what Kansas City has to offer,' said another. Both men had English accents.

'You're talking tomorrow, Miller,' said the first man. 'Better not get too well oiled. Still, if you're giving your usual gall stones talk it won't matter too much.'

'Bloody cheek!'

So that's who they were, thought Avedissian, doctors here for the convention. Laughter broke out among them as one of the Americans in the party suggested what they might do for their night out.

'She picks it up with what?' exclaimed one of the party.

'As a gynaecologist I suppose I should display a professional interest!' said another.

‘I'm a married man!' protested one of the Englishmen, provoking another round of laughter.

Avedissian thought of a risky idea, but he was desperate and if the hotel was full of out-of-town doctors it might work. He straightened his tie, brushed himself down briefly with his hands and walked in through the door of the Rainbow Inn, to find the lobby as crowded as he had hoped. He gave himself a few moments to acquaint himself with the geography of the place then approached the desk.

'How may I help you, sir?' said a middle-aged woman, with spectacles hanging round her neck from a heavy gold chain. Her smile looked as if it had been applied with her make-up.

'I'd like my room key,' said Avedissian sheepishly.

‘The number, sir?'

'You're going to think this awfully silly,’ said Avedissian with an embarrassed shrug and some emphasis on the Englishness of his speech, 'I feel so stupid but the fact is… I've forgotten.'

The smile did not waver. 'Your name, sir?'

'Miller. Dr Miller,' replied Avedissian with an attempt at a smile. Please, God, Miller was not one of the delegates that she knew.

A scarlet nail traced a line down the room register and the woman said, 'You are in room 293, sir.' She handed him the key.

'Of course, how stupid of me,' exclaimed Avedissian. 'Thank you so much.'

'You are welcome.'

Avedissian headed for the stairs, half euphoric, half terrified that at any second the woman would call out behind him. His pulse continued to race as he let himself into room 293 and switched on the light. He found what he was looking for almost immediately: Miller's medical bag. It was under the dressing-table beside his suitcase, and a slim plastic document case that bore the logo of the convention. Avedissian opened the bag and examined the contents. 'God bless you, Miller,' he muttered. It contained everything that he needed.

The boy had come round when Avedissian got back to the restaurant. He was cuddling into Kathleen who was soothing him, but Avedissian saw him go rigid as he approached. There was terror in his eyes and Avedissian knew that he was the cause of it. He felt angry and impotent for there seemed to be no quick way to convince the child that he had done what he had done out of concern for his welfare. No child had ever looked at him like that before. It was something that he would remember.

'Where have you been? I thought something had happened to you,' whispered Kathleen anxiously. 'Did you get the car?'

Avedissian told her why he had not got the car and saw her go pale. 'I don't understand,' she said. 'Why?'

'I suppose we were expendable, to use your word.'

Kathleen looked at the case that Avedissian had returned with.

'Medical. I borrowed it,' said Avedissian. He put his hand out gently to touch the boy's head but the child shrank from him and Kathleen had to reassure him again. 'I can't say I blame you, old son,' said Avedissian quietly.

'What do we do?' asked Kathleen with an air of hopelessness.

'We'll have to find somewhere for the night. I'll have to dress the boy's neck properly then we will have to make plans,’ replied Avedissian. 'Let's get started.'

The boy, still terrified of Avedissian, would not come to him when he tried to take him from Kathleen. 'Just leave him,’ said Kathleen.

'But he's too heavy,’ said Avedissian.

'I can manage.’

Tension grew as they failed to find a cab until, in desperation, Avedissian said, ‘There's a bus coming. We'll take it.’

The doors of the bus opened with a hydraulic hiss and they climbed on board. The driver was black; all the passengers were black. They regarded the three white interlopers with indifference.

'Kid's out late,’ said the driver as Avedissian fumbled in his pocket for change. He ignored the comment and said, 'We want to go to the main bus depot.’

‘Transfer at point four,’ said the driver.

'Will you tell us?'

'Sure.’

The seats were hard, the lights were dim and there was an almost overpowering smell of diesel fuel. Overhead, advertising placards were interspersed with warnings spelling out the penalties for armed robbery. A notice near the driver declared that he personally carried no money; all fares were deposited automatically in a locked compartment to which he had no access.

The mention of money made Avedissian consider his own financial position. How much cash did he have? The answer did nothing to raise his spirits. But he did have a credit card.

They got off the bus and watched it draw away from the kerb.

'What was all that about the bus station?' asked Kathleen.

'A red herring,’ replied Avedissian. 'Three white faces on an all-black bus. Just too easy to trace.'

They headed off in the opposite direction from the bus station and found the Blue Ranch Motel. It had seen better days, either that or it had always been seedy, but it had a 'Vacancies' sign above the entrance and all three of them were exhausted. The proprietor, attired in a vest that faithfully followed the rolls of flab about his middle, did not move as they entered but simply raised his eyes, giving the impression that their arrival was only going to be a very temporary interruption to his magazine reading. Avedissian could see that the lady on the cover was wearing a football helmet but little else.

'Number twelve, thirty dollars, pay in advance,' said the man, slapping down a key on the desk in front of him.

Avedissian paid and asked, 'Where do we find number twelve?’

The man stabbed a forefinger to his right without looking up from the magazine.

'God, what a place,' sighed Avedissian when they had left the office and were making their way along the row of chalets. Kathleen could not argue. The smell of barbecue sauce, which seemed to pervade Kansas City, gave way to the scent of cheap perfume when they finally found number twelve and stepped inside.

They looked around, expecting the worst, but found it better than they had feared. Kathleen turned down one of the bed covers and looked at the linen. 'Good,' she said. 'I half expected to find it still warm.'

Avedissian drew the curtains and opened the medical case that he had taken from the Inn. He took out what he needed and laid it out in order on a bedside table. 'I have to look at the boy's neck,' he said quietly to Kathleen.

'It's not going to be easy,' she replied. 'But we'll try.' She smiled at the child and spoke to him all the time as she gently teased away the temporary dressing from his neck. At first he was uncertain but confidence started to grow in him. It lasted until it became clear that Avedissian was going to touch him again, then fear returned to his eyes and he drew close to Kathleen. She cuddled him and whispered yet more reassurance.

'It will have to be done,' whispered Avedissian.

Kathleen laid the boy gently back on the bed and took Avedissian's hand. She held it to her cheek in a gesture of trust for the child's benefit. The boy looked puzzled so she repeated the gesture, nodding as she did so.

It took some little time but the child eventually decided to give Avedissian another chance. He did not draw away when Avedissian made to examine his neck but his small body was rigid with uncertainty.

'Is it bad?' asked Kathleen.

'No,' replied Avedissian. The implant was just under the skin but I'll have to put in a couple of stitches to keep the edges together.'

'More pain?'

'A little, but nothing like last time.'

Kathleen held the boy while Avedissian did what he had to and then breathed a sigh of relief. 'It's done,' he said. He rubbed the child's hand and said, 'Well done. You were very brave.' The child stared at him blankly.

Avedissian took a bottle of red liquid from the table and poured some out on a spoon. This elixir will help him sleep,' he said to Kathleen. 'It tastes nice too.'

Kathleen encouraged the boy to accept it and was rewarded by a ghost of a smile. 'It's bed for you,’ she whispered, giving the boy another hug.

When Kathleen had tucked the child safely into bed she returned to Avedissian. Now free of the need to play-act for the child's benefit, her face showed all the signs of the strain that she felt. 'What on earth are we going to do?' she asked.

'Our first priority is to get out of Kansas City,' replied Avedissian. 'We have to get away from NORAID. A couple with British accents and moving around with a child are not going to be too difficult to trace, and they must want us pretty badly.'

'If only they knew that the boy was not the royal child,’ said Kathleen.

'Right now it wouldn't make that much difference,’ said Avedissian. They think that we killed Roker and Shelby as well as the other two.'

Kathleen asked about 'the other two' and Avedissian told her what had happened during the chase. 'What a mess,’ she sighed, nervously wringing her hands. 'It's all gone wrong.'

Avedissian found the comment strange but, at that moment, the boy moved in his sleep and Kathleen went to check on him. Avedissian watched while she settled him again. 'We'll try to make for Chicago,’ he said. 'It has a big airport. Maybe we can slip through after a few days.’

'How do we get there? They'll be watching all the stations.’

'We'll have to get a car.’

'Hire one, you mean?' asked Kathleen.

'I've got a credit card.’

'Aren't we taking the same risk? A man with a British accent hiring a car?'

'We have to do something.’

'First thing in the morning?'

'Second. I have to go to the bank first.’

'The bank?' asked Kathleen in astonishment.

'I have to open an account,’ said Avedissian.

'You're not making sense.’

'When I left you at the hotel for a few minutes, I went back to Jarvis's room and took the tapes from the recording machine.’

'Why?' asked Kathleen.

'Because somewhere on the tapes is the voice of Roker saying "Archimedes". That's what I meant when I said that I was securing the boy's future.’

It took a few moments for Kathleen to see the full implication of what Avedissian had said, but when it did dawn on her she exclaimed, 'Of course, that's brilliant! The password with the correct voice print! You can get the money!'

'I hope so,’ said Avedissian. 'NORAID are not going to let the money lie in that account for ever but I think the deaths of both Roker and Shelby might slow them up with alternative arrangements. That and the fact that they must know by now that the money was not transferred after the exchange. They probably feel that there is no danger of anyone getting to it.’

'Sheer genius,’ said Kathleen quietly but Avedissian got the impression that her thoughts were elsewhere.

'You know what?' she said.

'What?'

'I'm starving!'

Avedissian had to admit that he was hungry too. He could not remember when they had last eaten properly. ‘I’ll nip out and see what I can get,’ he said, putting on his jacket. Before he left he removed the pistol from the pocket and handed it to Kathleen, asking if she knew how to use it. 'Lock the door behind me,’ he said. 'If anyone insists on entering, shoot first, we'll discuss your options later.’

Avedissian was gone for about fifteen minutes. He returned with a selection of take-away food from a McDonald's restaurant to appreciative sounds from Kathleen. He could not help but notice the change in her mood in the past hour. For some reason she seemed to have been instilled with new hope.

'The coffee's a bit cold,’ she said.

'I should have run faster,’ said Avedissian quietly watching her.

Kathleen stopped eating and looked up. 'Oh, what a stupid thing to say!' she exclaimed. 'My mind was miles away. Forgive me?'

'You're forgiven.'

Kathleen came round to Avedissian's side of the table and sat down on his knee. She traced her finger-tips along his forehead and said softly, 'Whatever happens now, you are the most wonderful man I've ever known. It's the wrong time and the wrong place to say it but that is the plain unvarnished truth.' She kissed him lightly on the lips.

'We've not really had much say about times and places,’ said Avedissian.

'No, but for what it's worth, I'm so glad I met you.'

'And I you.'

Kathleen crawled into bed beside the child in case he should wake up and panic during the night. Avedissian took the other bed and fell into a fitful sleep after savouring the quiet darkness for some minutes. His fear that he might not be able to sleep at all was overcome by sheer exhaustion. He had a great deal to think and worry about but his mind protested at any more anxiety in one day and insisted on rest. His sleep was, however, shallow and he woke at three a. m, puzzled by the sound of scratching.

The sound was not being made by an animal, he decided. It was too regular. Mice noises were intermittent. What was it?

Where was it coming from? Avedissian raised himself on one elbow to listen more intently. The noise changed to a gentle tapping. It was coming from somewhere near the door…

Silently Avedissian swung himself out of bed and found his jacket in the darkness. The gun was not in the pocket. He remembered that he had given it to Kathleen but he didn’t know where she’d put it.

Another change in the noise and, all at once, Avedissian realised what it was. Someone had been etching the glass panel beside the door of the chalet with a glass cutter. The tapping had been to remove the etched area and allow access to the interior!

As the piece of glass was being removed Avedissian flung himself across the room, picking up the only weapon he could find on the way — the forceps he had used earlier when suturing the child's wound. A hand came through the opening beside the door to fumble for the lock, and Avedissian plunged the tips of the forceps into the back of it. He felt them go right through and heard the intruder grunt in pain before cursing him in an accent that he realised was not American.

Avedissian tried to capitalise on his advantage by letting go of the forceps to grip two fingers of the man's hand and pull them apart. His aim was to break one or other or both, knowing that the pain from such an injury might be sufficient to induce unconsciousness. He heard Kathleen at his back and shouted, The gun! For God's sake get the gun!'

As Avedissian struggled to get a better grip on the intruder's fingers the man suddenly smashed the remainder of the glass door panel with his other hand, sending a shower of glass into Avedissian's face and making him release his grip. The door was forced open and it hit Avedissian, who had been temporarily blinded by blood coming from the cuts on his forehead, and sent him reeling backwards across the room.

The door was closed and the lights went on. Avedissian managed to clear the blood from his eyes and opened them to see a thick-set man standing over him holding a gun pointing at his face. The man was sucking the wound in the back of his hand and staring at Avedissian with anger burning in his eyes.

Assuming him to be from NORAID Avedissian said, 'You don't understand! The boy isn't who you think he is! It was a trick!'

'Screw the brat,’ rasped the man. 'Where are the tapes?'

Avedissian was stunned. From where he lay on the floor he stared at the man in blank astonishment. Again, the fact that the man did not have an American accent registered with Avedissian, but this time it meant more. The man did not have an American accent because he was Irish! 'Who the hell are you?' he asked.

‘I’ll not ask you again,' threatened the man. 'Where are the tapes?'

Avedissian's one hope lay in the fact that Kathleen was still in the bedroom and she had access to his gun. He knew that she must be listening and waiting for her chance. It was his job to stall as long as possible. 'What tapes?' he asked.

The man responded with a vicious kick at Avedissian's stomach which made him retch in agony. 'Don't give me that crap,’ the man hissed. 'Kathleen! Get out here!'

Through his pain Avedissian heard the man call Kathleen by name and felt his anguish double. He saw Kathleen appear in the doorway and heard her say angrily to the man, 'I told you I would get them for you. Why did you have to come here?'

'Just get me the tapes!' rasped the man.

'I don't know where they are,’ replied Kathleen. She came towards Avedissian and knelt down beside him, withering under the bitter accusation in his eyes. 'I'm sorry,’ she whispered, 'More sorry than I can ever tell you, but you had better tell him where the tapes are.’

Avedissian looked at her long and hard then said with resignation, 'They're in the bedroom, in the cabinet by the bed.'

'Get them!' said the man to Kathleen and she got up.

As Kathleen left the room the man levelled his pistol at Avedissian and said, 'I win, you lose. I can't say it's been nice.'

Avedissian closed his eyes and waited for the end but it did not come. Instead he heard the full, flat sound of two silenced shots being fired. He opened his eyes to see the man slump to the floor in a motionless heap. Kathleen was standing in the doorway with the gun in her hand. She stared at the corpse.

'Who was he?' asked Avedissian quietly.

'His name was Reagan. He was one of Kell's men.'

Avedissian shook his head in confusion. 'But why?' he asked. 'Why did you do it?'

'I lied to you. My brother is not dead,’ said Kathleen. 'Kell is holding him prisoner. Kell planted me on the British because he suspected that they were up to something. Originally I was just to confirm that a man called Bryant was involved in the child kidnap operation and find out anything else about it I could, but when Bryant himself saw that I could be useful in finding out even more about the IRA and NORAID, Kell instructed me to go along with it. I was to keep Reagan informed about Innes's progress and keep them in touch.'

'But the information you gave to Bryant was real,’ said Avedissian. The INLA in Belfast were all but wiped out.'

That was Kell's doing. He loathed the McGlynns. He saw his chance to set them up and convince Bryant at the same time that I was genuine.'

'How does Kell know Bryant?'

'Kell knows Bryant, Bryant knows Kell. That's the way things are at the top. They've probably never met each other but they know each other well enough. At that level it's like a big game. People's lives don't enter into it. The game is all important.’

'So Kell saw through Bryant's plan from the beginning?'

'More than that. He saw it as the perfect time to set up a scheme of his own.'

To get the money, you mean?'

Kathleen shook her head. 'Not just that,’ she said. 'Kell wanted Bryant to think that he had swallowed the royal child story for some other reason.'

'What reason?'

'I don't know, but the suggestion was that the operation might be even bigger than Bryant's.'

'You said that Kell was holding your brother?' said Avedissian.

Kathleen shrugged. 'Kell will kill him now,' she said. 'He was going to kill both of us until he saw how I could be useful. The bargain was that Kell would let Martin go if this operation was a success and he got the money. I thought the chance had gone until you told me about the tapes and I saw that I could still save Martin. I called Innes and Reagan when you were out getting the food and said that I would get the tapes if they would tell Kell not to harm my brother.'

'But Reagan decided to speed things up?'

'I foolishly told him where we were staying,' admitted Kathleen. 'And I nearly got you killed…' Tears came and Kathleen put her head against Avedissian's shoulder. 'Oh my darling,’ she murmured.

Avedissian held her close, oblivious to the blood that was still running down his face from the cuts and said softly, 'Sshh, you were the one who pointed out that you lived your life as a victim of circumstance. Let's say that this one was beyond your control.’

Kathleen looked affectionately at Avedissian then realised the mess that his face was in. She held it between the palms of her hands and said, 'I'll fetch a cloth.’ She returned from the bathroom with a flannel soaked in cold water and began dabbing gently at Avedissian's cuts. They are not too bad when the blood has been cleared away,’ she assured him.

'We'll have to get out of here,’ said Avedissian.

'Can't we wait until morning?'

Avedissian shook his head. 'You said that there were two IRA men. We don't know where the other one is.’

'Innes, the Tally Man,’ said Kathleen.

'He could be waiting nearby for Reagan to return, and when he doesn't

'I hadn't considered that,’ said Kathleen. 'I had assumed that Reagan had come on his own.'

'Get the boy ready,’ said Avedissian hauling himself to his feet. He picked up the gun that Kathleen had let fall to the floor and checked the clip. It was nearly empty. He picked up Reagan's gun and opted for that instead.

When they were ready to leave Avedissian switched out the chalet lights and opened the curtains a little to peer out. It seemed quiet enough but Avedissian was not convinced. He changed his mind about them all leaving together and told Kathleen to stay put with the child while he went out alone to take a look around.

Avedissian squeezed out of the smallest possible opening of the door and made for the nearest shadow in a crouching run. It was the area between their chalet and the neighbouring one. He paused for a moment before continuing along the row, looking for signs of life in the grounds of the motel. He found none and all the cars parked near the chalets seemed to be empty.

He was about to return to Kathleen to tell her that it was safe when he heard a car slow down on the road outside and turn into the grounds. He pressed himself back into the shadows to watch the new arrival pull up outside the front office. The driver got out and walked towards Reception. Avedissian's heart missed a beat for he recognised the man. It was the man he had seen at the stadium in Chicago. It was Innes! He had come to find Reagan.

Avedissian was caught in two minds. His hand closed over the butt of the pistol in his pocket. Should he kill Innes in cold blood when he re-emerged or should he return to Kathleen and the boy? He heard the sound of raised voices coming from inside Reception and moved to a position where he could see through the glass. Innes and the slob were arguing heatedly about something. The slob's wife joined him and Avedissian heard the word 'police' mentioned as the slob picked up the phone. He could see that Innes was still trying to reason with the man but with little success. There had been too many strange enquiries from people with foreign accents in the middle of the night and a bomb had gone off earlier at the Plaza Hotel.

Avedissian decided that he was not going to be given the chance to get Innes on his own and the thought of the police being called to the motel sent him scurrying back along the row. He paused outside each chalet to look through the windows of the car parked there. Then he saw what he wanted to see. One had been left with the keys in the ignition!

Avedissian climbed into the driving seat and turned the key. The engine turned noisily on the starter but did not fire. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried again, his foot stabbing at the accelerator, but still nothing. A face appeared at the chalet window but Avedissian was committed. He held his foot hard down on the pedal and tried again. The engine turned over with declining enthusiasm then fired with a roar of noise. At the same moment he saw Kathleen and the boy running towards him.

The car lurched forward and Avedissian leaned over to open the passenger door. Kathleen flung herself inside clutching the child to her. As Avedissian turned the car in a noisy and clumsy three-point turn he caught a glimpse of a man appearing at the chalet door; he was pulling on his trousers and yelling something after them. They screeched out of the gate and Kathleen looked back to see Innes emerge from Reception. For a moment he was framed in the light from inside, then she saw him run to his car.