'You're wrong,’ said Avedissian. 'Kell knew all along that there had been no royal kidnap. He started working on his own scheme right back at the beginning and just kept stringing Bryant along.'
'But he tried to raise money from bank raids.'
'Wrong again. Kell planted Kathleen O'Neill on Bryant and used her to settle an old score with the INLA and convince Bryant that she was genuine at the same time. Her brother hadn't been killed by Kell at all. He's still alive. He's here with me in London. That's how I know about Kell's plans.'
'And Kathleen O'Neill?'
'She's here too.'
'What happened to the boy?' asked Sarah Milek tentatively.
'He's dead. I buried him in a field in Illinois.'
Tm sorry… I know you can't believe that, but I am. It was the most horrible plan.'
'So why didn't you stop it?' demanded Avedissian.
'It was Bryant's doing — him and his bitter hatred of the Irish.'
'Why?'
'He thinks that being so long in the Irish section has destroyed his career. He believes that successive governments have refused to tackle the IRA head-on as he would like. He has always believed that the fight should have been taken to the enemy. Fight fire with fire, that sort of thing, but every scheme he has come up with over the years has been turned down as being either too aggressive or too politically sensitive. He has always taken the rejection of his plans personally; he has become paranoid about the 'Public School Mafia' as he calls them. Sometimes I think he hates our side as much as he does the opposition.'
'And his latest scheme?'
'He saw a photograph in a newspaper of a handicapped child whose parents had been killed in a car crash and noticed that the boy bore a superficial resemblance to one of the royal children. It gave him an idea for an operation that he thought would prove to the powers that be that he should be running the section instead of playing number two.'
'Why did nobody stop him?'
‘This time Bryant was clever. He sold the idea to Sir Michael as purely a confidence trick to destroy NORAID and undermine IRA morale. There was no mention of ever using a real child, but he maintained that, for the scheme to have a chance of success, everyone would have to act and behave as if the kidnap had really happened, and Sir Michael agreed.'
'Why didn't it stay that way?'
'Bryant was obsessed with the operation. He saw this as his one big chance to show how good he was.'
'So he planned his own version all along?'
Sarah Milek nodded. 'He also diverted funds from within the section to employ some dubious operatives of his own.'
'And the boy?'
'The child was still in temporary accommodation after the crash while the social services decided what to do with him. Bryant came up with transfer forms for a children's home at the other end of the country, on the grounds that some distant relation of the boy had been located and adoption might be a possibility. The local authorities were only too happy to see their problem solved.’
'But surely Sir Michael must have suspected something was going on while Bryant was doing all this?' Avedissian protested.
'He did, but at the wrong moment his past caught up with him.’
'What do you mean?'
'One of Bryant's people came up with something on Sir Michael himself, a series of indiscretions involving young boys. Bryant virtually took over the operation and the section from then on. Sir Michael became little more than a figurehead. Bryant ran the show.'
‘That's why the old man committed suicide,’ said Avedissian, remembering the story in the papers.
'He couldn't bear the shame,’ said Sarah Milek.
'But Bryant's scheme failed,’ said Avedissian.
'It's true that he didn't get the money, but the INLA was wiped out in Belfast and Bryant got the credit for that. He also set up the ambush that killed Kevin O'Donnell. His record says that he will be made head of section in the near future in spite of any opposition from high places.'
'Why doesn't somebody tell the truth about him? You, for instance?' asked Avedissian.
'I only know what Sir Michael told me before he died and even then I suspect that there are bits of the story I don't know. I don't really know much about what he was using the outsiders for.'
'He used them to wire bombs to cars,’ said Avedissian quietly.
'What?'
'It doesn't matter. You know enough,’ accused Avedissian.
'Knowing something and proving it are two different things.'
'There must be someone you could go to?'
'I'm not that brave, Doctor. Bryant is a powerful man. He's above the law, whatever politicians might say, and, quite frankly, he scares me. You don't cross a man like Bryant and get away with it.'
Avedissian closed his eyes and whispered, 'Now where have I heard that before?'
'Pardon?'
Avedissian ignored the question and said, 'I have to talk to Bryant. Where is he?'
'He's at a meeting. He's one of the advisers on security matters for the royal birthday party,’ said Sarah Milek. When Avedissian looked blank she added, 'There's to be a specially televised birthday party tomorrow. The Blue Peter programme is hosting a party for handicapped young people from all over the country. Members of the Royal Family will attend.'
Avedissian remembered reading about it, but now that he knew that Bryant was involved he saw it in a different light and alarm bells started to ring inside his head. 'Where is it to be held?' he asked.
'That is being kept secret,’ said Sarah Milek.
'God, that could be it!' gasped Avedissian.
'Could be what?'
'Kell! He's going to hit the party!'
'But…’
'That's what he meant by the 'last thing anyone would think of in the circumstances'' A hit on the very child he was supposed to be negotiating for on the other side of the Atlantic!'
'But how? Security is always tight on these occasions.'
'I don't know, but I'm almost sure that must be it. Can Bryant be contacted?'
'Yes if it's urgent.'
'It's urgent.'
'Come back to the office.'
Avedissian waited impatiently while Sarah Milek telephoned Bryant. He heard her say why she was calling but could not hear Bryant's response when she told him who was with her. He took the phone and put it to his ear.
'Well, Doctor, this is a surprise,’ said the voice that Avedissian remembered.
‘I’ll bet.’ said Avedissian evenly. 'But the boy and Paul Jarvis won't be coming back to embarrass you. They are both dead.’
'I'm sorry. War can be very unpleasant, Doctor, and that's what it is, a war.'
'And being 'a war' excuses everything? How comfortable. Do you think the child understood it was 'a war' when his skull was caved in? You make me sick to my stomach.'
'Whingeing sentimentality doesn't do a lot for my constitution either, Doctor. Don't you realise what was at stake? A chance to wipe out NORAID, cut off that running sore for good, and you expect me to listen to your maudlin crap about one orphan boy who would probably have grown up to be another street sweeper in Luton!'
'You bastard!'
'Of course I'm a bastard, Doctor. If it wasn't for bastards like me then fifty-odd million people in this country
