“There you go. Ships’ papers, union card, the lot.”
The girl poured tea and Ryan examined everything closely. “Paid off the
“The
“Interesting. A man of parts. Any special skills from the Parachute Regiment?”
“Just how to kill people. The usual weaponry skills. A considerable knowledge of explosives.” Keogh lit a cigarette. “But where’s all this leading?”
Ryan persisted. “Can you ride a motorcycle?”
“Since I was sixteen, and that’s a long time ago. So what?”
Ryan leaned back, took out a pipe, and filled it from an old pouch. “Visiting relatives, are you?”
“Not that I know of,” Keogh said. “A few cousins scattered here and there. I came back on a whim. Nostalgia, if you like. A bad idea really, but I can always go back and get another berth.”
“I could offer you a job,” Ryan said, and the girl brought a taper from the fire to light his pipe.
“What, here in Belfast?”
“No, in England.”
“Doing what?”
“Why, the kind of thing you did tonight. The kind of thing you’re good at.”
It was very quiet. Keogh was aware of the girl watching him eagerly. “Do I smell politics here?”
“Since nineteen sixty-nine I’ve worked for the Loyalist cause,” Ryan said. “Served six years in the Maze prison. I hate Fenians. I hate the bloody Sinn Fein, because if they win they’ll drive us all out, every Protestant in the country. Ethnic cleansing to the hilt. Now if things get that bad I’ll take as many of them to hell with me as I can.”
“So where’s this leading?”
“A job in England. A very lucrative job. Funds for our organization.”
“In other words we steal from someone,” Keogh said.
“We need money, Keogh,” Ryan said. “Money for arms. The bloody IRA have their Irish-American sympathizers providing funds. We don’t.” He leaned forward. “I’m not asking you for patriotism. I’ll settle for greed. Fifty thousand pounds.”
There was a long pause and Ryan and the girl waited, her face somber as if she expected him to say no.
Keogh smiled. “That’s a lot of money, Mr. Ryan, so you’ll be expecting a lot in return.”
“Backup is what I expect from a man who can handle anything, and from the way you’ve carried yourself tonight you would seem to be that kind of man.”
Keogh said, “What about your own people? You’ve as many gunmen out on the street as the IRA. More even. I know that from army days.” He lit a cigarette and leaned back. “Unless there’s another truth here. That you’re in it for the money, you’re in it for yourself.”
Kathleen Ryan jumped up. “Damn you for saying that. My uncle has given more for our people than anyone I know. Better you get out of here while you can.”
Ryan held up a hand. “Softly, child, any intelligent man would see it as a possibility. It’s happened before, God knows, and on both sides.”
“So?” Keogh said.
“I can be as hungry as the next man where money is concerned, but my cause is a just one, the one certainty in my life. Any money that passes through my hands goes to the Protestant cause. That’s what my life is about.”
“Then why not use some of your own men?”
“Because people talk too much, a weakness in all revolutionary movements. The IRA have the same problem. I’ve always preferred to use what I call hired help, and for that I go to the underworld. An honest thief who is working for wages is a sounder proposition than some revolutionary hothead.”
“So that’s where I come in?” Keogh said. “Hired help, just like anyone else you need?”
“Exactly. So, are you in or out? If it’s no, then say so. After what you did for Kathleen tonight you’ll come to no harm from me.”
“Well that’s nice to know.” Keogh shrugged. “Oh, what the hell, I might as well give it a try. A change from the North Sea. Terrible weather there at this time of the year.”
“Good man yourself.” Ryan smiled. “A couple of Bushmills, Kathleen, and we’ll drink to it.”
“WHERE ARE YOU staying?” Ryan asked.
“A fleapit called the Albert Hotel,” Keogh told him.
“Fleapit, indeed,” Ryan toasted him. “Our country too.”
“May you die in Ireland,” Keogh replied.
“An excellent sentiment.” Ryan swallowed his Bushmills in a single gulp.
“So what happens now?”
“I’ll tell you in London. We’ll fly there, you, me, and Kathleen. There’s someone I have to see.”
Keogh turned to the girl. “An activist is it? A little young I would have thought.”
“I bloody told you, they blew up my family when I was ten years old, Mr. Keogh,” she said fiercely. “I grew up fast after that.”
“A hard world.”
“And I’ll make it harder for the other side, believe me.”
“You hate well, I’ll say that.” Keogh turned back to her uncle. “So that’s it, then?” He shook his hand. “What am I really getting into? I should know more.”
“All right, a taster only. How well do you know the northwest of England? The Lake District?”
“I’ve never been there.”
“A wild and lonely area at this time of the year with the tourists gone.”
“So?”
“A certain truck will be passing through there, a meat transporter. You and I will hijack it. Very simple, very fast. A five-minute job.”
“You did say meat transporter?”
Ryan smiled. “That’s what this truck is. What’s inside is another matter. You find that out later.”
“And what happens afterwards?”
“We drive to a place on the Cumbrian coast where there’s an old disused jetty. There will be a boat waiting, a Siemens ferry. Do you know what that is?”
“The Germans used them in World War Two to transport heavy equipment and men in coastal attacks.”
“You’re well informed. We drive on board and sail for Ulster. I’ve found a suitable spot on the coast where there’s a disused quarry pier. We drive the truck off the boat and disappear into the night. All beautifully simple.”
“So it would seem,” Keogh said. “And the crew of this Siemens ferry? What are they doing?”
“Earning their wages. As far as they are concerned, it’s just some sort of illegal traffic or other. They do it all the time. They’re those sort of people.”
“Crooks, you mean.”
“Exactly. The boat is tied up near Wapping at the moment. That’s why we’re going to London. To finalize things.”
There was a pause and then Kathleen Ryan said, “What do you think, Mr. Keogh?”
“That you’d better start calling me Martin as it seems we’re going to spend some time together.”
“But do you think it would work?”
“Its greatest virtue, as your uncle says, is its simplicity. It could work perfectly just like a Swiss watch. On the other hand, even Swiss watches break down sometimes.”
“O ye of little faith.” Ryan smiled. “Of course it will work. It’s got to. My organization needs the means to buy arms for our people. It’s essential. There’s a passage in the Koran that says there is more truth in one sword than ten thousand words.”
