foot. Dealing with Father Kinsella was going to be the most difficult part of seeing his plan through and ultimately setting himself free. Bill had to remain cool if he was going to be the manipulator, a role he usually played well. But this was Father Kinsella, he reminded himself, the master of manipulation.
Bill mellowed.‘I’m sorry . . . It was a bit of a shock seeing you, especially since I was wearing nothing but a smile.’
‘I can understand that, son. She’s not on her way up, is she - I take it you were expecting a lady?’
‘She was the only person who knew I was home but I’m not expecting her for a few hours . . . Well, now that you’re here, would you like a drink, Father?’
‘I don’t normally mix alcohol with daylight, but to be sure it’s dark enough where I live right now, so I will.’
Bill poured some whisky into a glass, handed it to Father Kinsella, and picked up his own. They raised their glasses and took a sip, both glancing at the other over the rim.
‘Good stuff,’ Father Kinsella said. ‘Good stuff . . . How long is it since we’ve seen each other, Bill? It’s been a few years, hasn’t it? Time does indeed fly.’
‘It does,’ Bill agreed.
‘So tell me, how are things going with you?’
‘What things?’
‘You know what I mean. Since Paris.’
Bill had to be careful how he handled this conversation. He couldn’t give anything away about his plan to quit, but at the same time he wanted Kinsella to see, if he hadn’t already, that it might be time for him to move on. At least Bill could try and get a sense of how Kinsella felt about the possibility.
‘That was a close shave,’ Bill said. ‘At first I thought they were coming for me. They had an entire surveillance team on the ground, surrounding my hotel.’
Father Kinsella didn’t say anything and took another sip of his drink.
‘I don’t mind admitting it scared the hell out of me,’ Bill went on. ‘Still does. I’ve been looking over my shoulder ever since . . . I’m worried they might be on to me.’
Bill couldn’t read any reaction in Kinsella.
‘The French have Henri, you know,’ Bill said.
‘Henri won’t tell them about you. He’ll tell them a lot of things, but not about you. He’s a canny French fox and was well chosen.’
‘Nevertheless, I’m warm. That’s a fact.’
Kinsella didn’t give any indication he agreed. ‘So what are you thinking?’ he asked after a moment of silence.
Bill decided to go for it, but one careful step at a time. ‘I’d like to back off, for a bit. Go cold. If they’ve got me, they’ve got me. But if they haven’t, they’ll be laying traps for me.’
Father Kinsella walked across the room and looked out of the window and down on to to the street. ‘This is a well-chosen apartment,’ he said. ‘You’ve a good view of the street. Can you get on to the roof?’
‘Yes. And from there you can get into the apartment block next door and down the stairs.’
‘Were you thinking about escape routes when you got this place?’
‘At first maybe. But I’ve learned enough over the years to know that if they were to send anyone for me, running out of the building isn’t going to do me any good.’
‘That’s true,’ the priest said as he continued watching the street.‘You’d need your friends for sure if they came after you.’
Bill wondered why Kinsella had made that comment. Perhaps he did see that Bill’s future as a spy was no longer tenable after all, unless it was a set-up for something else or a cleverly disguised warning.
‘I thought you were going to tell me you wanted to quit for good,’ Father Kinsella said.
Bill looked at the priest’s back, wishing he could read his mind the way the man seemed to be able to read his. The truth was the priest was the only person he needed a blessing from if he wanted to get out. If Kinsella gave him the okay, then the godfathers would no doubt agree. Bill was, after all, Kinsella’s protege. He sometimes wondered just how far up the ladder the priest went; he might even be a godfather. That would explain a few things.
‘And what if I did?’ Bill ventured, trying to make it sound as if he wasn’t all that serious.
Father Kinsella turned to look at him. ‘I was right then. You want to quit.’
Bill cautioned himself. He had to be most careful now. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that.’
‘Were you not?’
‘Obviously I’ve thought about it. Especially after what happened . . . What do you think about me going cold for a time?’ Bill said, immediately regretting it. It gave the priest room to manoeuvre in that direction. Bill didn’t want to go cold. He wanted out for good. ‘You’re a man of many experiences, ’ he went on, since Father Kinsella had kept quiet, ‘but I don’t think you know what it’s like to live in constant fear of being found out. First I might ever know about it is a bullet to the back of my head.’
‘Would you like to get out, Bill? Is that what you’re asking me?’
Bill studied him, deciding whether or not to just go for it. The danger was telegraphing any actual intentions. He was aware Kinsella could just be fishing. ‘I wish I knew if MI5 had any suspicions about me,’ Bill said, weaving around the question. ‘Of course it’s possible they’re not even close to me.’
‘Make your mind up, Bill. A moment ago you sounded as if they did know.’
The attack made Bill strike back. ‘I don’t want to go to prison for the rest of my life. Or end up getting executed by one of their assassins . . . I’ve been useful, haven’t I? I’ve given the cause some valuable information over the years.’
‘So you have, Bill. So you have. No one’s ever said anything less than what a blessing you are for the cause.You’re probably the greatest spy we ever had.You’re a living hero, Billy. When the war’s over yours will be one of the names that’ll be remembered for hundreds of years.They might’ve forgotten the likes of Thomas Meagher but they’ll not forget you. Sure you might even get your statue put up one day.’
‘Are you making fun of me now?’
‘I couldn’t be more serious. In fact that’s what I’m here to offer you. Not a statue, lad. I’m here to offer you a chance to get out.’
The comment couldn’t have been more laced with suggestion and innuendo. Father Kinsella had used the words offer and chance. It was obviously not going to be as simple as packing a bag and leaving.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean I agree with you. If you think it’s time you got out, then I have to respect that.’
Bill remained prepared for the catch.
‘Just do one more thing for us, and we’ll call it a day.’
There it was. One more thing. The way Kinsella said it so casually was enough to get him worried. ‘What thing?’
‘A job.’
‘A job? I’m not an operative, Father.’
‘I haven’t told you what it is yet,’ the priest said.
He didn’t need to. Bill always suspected his career as a spy would not end in a whimper but a bang if Kinsella had anything to do with it. That was his style exactly.
‘Well?’ Kinsella asked.
‘Well what?’
‘Is that the way you want to proceed?’
‘I don’t understand. If you think I’m burned, then I should go. I shouldn’t have to buy my way out.’
‘That’s just the point. I don’t think you’re burned.You’re the one who does. If you want to leave, that’s up to you. But even in the British Army, if a soldier wants to leave before their time is up, they have to buy their way out.’
Bill couldn’t believe this man. After all that he had done, the bastard was asking him to trade for his release. But Bill knew it would be pointless arguing with Kinsella.There was something else to this. Kinsella didn’t just come here with a job offer to barter Bill’s release. The mission itself was Kinsella’s prime reason for coming to see Bill. If Bill hadn’t said anything about the possibility he was compromised and wanted out, Kinsella would still have set him
