You were quite right. We need to do something about Ferguson and his Holland Park set-up. The wretched people he employs have been a thorn in our sides for years. Now we have Fergusons latest recruit, this Sara Gideon. Jewish, I understand. She probably has ties to Mossad.
I wouldnt blame her. That bus bombing that killed her parents in Jerusalem saw off fourteen Palestinians as well. It was rather careless of Hamas.
Take care, Abu said. Or we may start to wonder whose side youre on.
Thats easy. Im on Owen Rashids side. Whats our next move?
Ill order Kelly to activate some of his sleepers here in London. Hes boasted of them enough, so lets see if we can give Ferguson and his people a few problems.
Owen said, Lets be practical. Ferguson and Miller spent years fighting a war in Ireland. Dillon and Holley were on the other side and have now crossed over. Their friend Harry Salter may be a wealthy developer now, but he was a notorious gangster in his day, and his nephew has taken after him. And the Gideon girls record speaks for itself. What do you think youll be able to accomplish?
Ive been doing some research. Are you familiar with the Irish National Liberation Army? Their members were recruited from the professional classes. Years ago, they killed an MP with a car bomb as he drove out of Parliament. No one was ever caught.
All right, but that was a long time ago, Owen said. What are you saying?
Im saying some things never go out of style. Im going to speak to Kelly. I want this Charles Ferguson business taken care of once and for all.
Owen Rashid, with plenty to think about, went into the bathroom and stood under a hot shower, cursing the day hed got involved with Al Qaeda, but he was, and would have to make the best of it.
As he finished dressing and moved into his office area, the phone sounded. It was Kelly, and he wasnt pleased.
I dont like being ordered around by that creep Abu. He sounds like an undertaker.
I suppose thats what he is in a way, Owen told him. You could always resurrect one of your sleeper cells and give instructions to bump him off.
If only it were that simple, Kelly said. Just like I have visions of getting Charles Ferguson and his entire outfit all together in a van, so it would only take one bomb planted underneath to get rid of them all.
And pigs might fly, Owen said. Anyway, Abu thinks we need something special. Hes discovered that INLA once killed a Member of Parliament with a car bomb.
But that was years ago.
Well, hes impressed not only that they got away with it but that the cell consisted of middle-class professionals.
Yeah, that was a newspaper story that got out of hand. Kelly laughed harshly. Each time it reprinted, a bit more was added, until in the end, it was better than the midnight movie.
Owen Rashid found himself genuinely interested. How do you know?
Because Ive always suspected a friend of mine was involved. He wasnt Irish, and his only connection with the IRA was a girl named Mary Barry, whom he loved beyond rubies.
Tell me about him.
In 1976, like a lot of IRA volunteers, I was sent to a training camp in the middle of the Algerian desert, courtesy of Colonel Gaddafi. We were trained in all kinds of weaponry and shown how to make what they now call improvised explosive devices, car bombs and such.
So whats this got to do with anything? Owen Rashid demanded.
Our instructor was named Henri Legrande. He spent three years in the Foreign Legion in the Algerian War. Joined at eighteen, got wounded and decorated, and discharged on his twenty-first birthday. Then he was recruited by Algerians and got well paid to give people like me the benefit of his experience for six months.
What happened to him when you left the camp?
We were his last group. He had an English aunt in London whod left him well provided for, and her estate included an antiques shop with a flat above it in Shepherd Market.
Thats not far from here, Owen said. Lots of shops like that there.
He decided to go to London University to study literature and fine arts, of all things. It was still a popular destination with Irish students like Mary Barry, the daughter of a friend of mine. I told her to look him up.
And they fell in love.
She moved in with him, and had two years of bliss before she went home to Belfast one day, got involved in a street protest, was manhandled by soldiers, handed over to the police, and was found dead in a cell the following morning. Choked on her own vomit. There was a suggestion of abuse, but nothing was ever proved.
Well, there wouldnt be, would there? Owen said.
We all know that, but there was nothing to be done. I was on the run at the time, took a chance and went to the funeral. St Marys, Bombay Street in Belfast, the church packed. Just before the service, the door banged and there was Henri over from London. The look on his face would have frightened the devil. He had a single red rose in his hand, walked straight up the aisle, ignoring the priest, placed the rose between her folded hands, leaned over, kissed her, and walked out.
What did you do?
Went after him, took him for a drink. I asked him if he intended to return to France. He told me he would never leave London, because as long as he stayed, her presence would always be with him.
True love. Owen reached for a cigarette and lit it. So you suppose that he was responsible for the death of that MP all those years ago as an act of revenge?
It was more complicated than that. I told you that Henri had given us a thorough training on the construction of explosive devices.
What about it?
One of the car bombs he demonstrated was of Russian origin and was unusual in that it used mercury as part of the trigger mechanism. Three months after Marys death, the army colonel whose men had been involved in that riot was killed with the same sort of car bomb right here in London.
Which could hardly be a coincidence, Owen said.
Not when you consider that two months later, the Royal Ulster Constabulary chief superintendent whod been commanding the police station where Mary had died met a similar fate.
Id say thats pretty convincing proof, but why would Legrande target the Member of Parliament? He didnt have anything to do with what happened to Mary Barry, did he?
No, but there was an election going on at the time, the government was taking a very anti-IRA line, and the MP was a spokesman. Who knows what was going on in Henris head? The important thing was that there were no more mercury tilt bombs after that.
What happened when you put all this to Legrande? Owen asked.
But I never did, Kelly told him. I was serving five life sentences for murder in the Maze Prison until the peace process pardoned me.
So what is Legrande doing now?
I havent a clue. I wasnt certain whether people like me were still under police surveillance, so I decided to leave well enough alone where certain old friends were concerned.
Owen, whod been examining the phone book on his desk, said, Here we are. Henri Legrande. Rare books, fine art, antiques. Its called Marys Bower.
Kelly said, Well, we know where the shops name comes from. Where are you going with this?
Abu is just a messenger boy passing on orders, but orders they are. Youve boasted of your sleepers in London. Now youre supposed to activate them to sort out Ferguson and his people.
Kelly said, It isnt as easy as that. When the Troubles were in full swing, we had a network of them, but
Are you telling me it would be impossible?
Kelly had an edge of desperation in his voice. It would be difficult.
Then youre a dead man walking, because youve been lying to Abu and Al Qaeda. I dont intend for you to pull me down with you. Stay on the phone for five minutes. Ill be back.
He went out to the kitchen and dialled a number on the wall phone. A mans voice answered. Owen listened, then said, Sorry, wrong number. He spoke into his mobile: Are you still there, Jack?
Yes, what the hell are we going to do?
Revisit your glory days. You used to be the pride of the IRA now youre going to take on Ferguson yourself. Ill provide you with money if you need to hire three or four foot soldiers. All you need is a plan.
And where would that come from?
Henri Legrande, of course. He survived the Legion, the Casbah, the Battle of Algiers. If he cant sort your problem, nobody can.
But I dont know if hes still around, Kelly said. We havent spoken in years.
I just phoned him three minutes ago. When he answered, I said sorry, wrong number. What I suggest is you phone him, tell him youll be in London later today and thought youd look him up.
But what do I say to him?
Stick with the truth. After all, your IRA past is no surprise to him. Stress that all youre seeking is his expertise on the best way to handle Ferguson, and that youre not expecting him to carry a gun for you or anything like that. Dont offer him money the kind of man he is would be offended, and I suspect hes got more than he knows what to do with.
Kelly said, Owen, youre a genius.
Im not going to argue with that. Now, get moving.
Right, Kelly said. Ill phone Henri, then Ill get the Beech Baron to pick me up from Drumgoole. Ill cover my back by phoning the finance director at Talbot International and telling him I need to discuss the estates books. What are you up to?
Im taking Jean out to dinner tonight.
You seem to be seeing a lot of her these days.
Dont get ideas. Im just a substitute for her son. You once told me he apologized to her in front of you for not having told her hed served in the SAS and that hed killed many members of the Provisional IRA.
Thats true.
And you really think she wasnt aware of his involvement with Al Qaeda?
Im sure of it, Owen, Kelly said. I was as close to him as anyone, and he didnt tell me about it until the last couple of months of his life. Why do you ask?
I like Jean very much, but I also feel a certain amount of guilt where she is concerned.
Why is that? Kelly asked.
She adored her son, she makes that very obvious, and yet the blunt truth is that he lied to her about his life and what hed been doing.
So what are you saying?
Im doing the same to her, and I dont like it.
Explain that, Kelly told him.
It concerns Rubat and an old railway that Talbot International owns. Al Qaeda would like to see it extended for their own reasons. He gave Kelly chapter and verse and ended by saying, But just as her son did, Im feeding her Al Qaeda lies. What the hell can I do?
Nothing, Kelly told him. And dont go beating yourself up. Poor wild Justin suffered at the hands of Al Qaeda, and you and I are caught in the same web there isnt a thing we can do about it. I wouldnt worry too much if I were you. The Saudis, backed by America and the UN, will never allow the Bacu extension. It would be madness.
Lets hope youre right.
Well, sometimes I am. Kelly laughed. You know something, Owen? Im feeling better already, so lets just play the hand the Good Lords given us for the moment and see where it leads. You take Jean out tonight and give her a good time, but drop the idea of being the son substitute. It doesnt suit you.
He rang off, and Owen crossed to the window and opened it to the terrace. The morning traffic was nose-to-tail and he stood there, smoking a cigarette and thinking about what Kelly had said. One thing was certain. The advent of Henri Legrande was going to make life very interesting.
He flicked his cigarette out into the traffic and went back inside.
5
Later that day, Jack Kelly was on the corner of Park Lane and Curzon Street, walking down towards Shepherd Market, carrying a modest overnight bag. He had never visited this area before, and it fascinated him, the narrow streets, the wide variety of restaurants and shops.
He found Marys Bower, two narrow windows, each featuring a painting, flanking a Georgian door with a brass knocker, a lovely hand-painted sign above with the name above a drooping mulberry over an empty sofa. He felt sad about that, realizing what the imagery meant, and stepped back into a doorway as it started to rain.
The truth was that he hadnt phoned Legrande, perhaps because of a fear of rejection, and yet he had come, which had to mean something. At that moment, the red velvet curtain behind the painting in the window to the left was pulled back and the Frenchman appeared.
Despite the years, it was undeniably the Henri Legrande who had meant so much in the life of Jack Kelly all those years ago. A little heavier, grey-haired, wearing steel-rimmed spectacles and a green apron. He made an adjustment to the painting on its easel, glanced up, and saw Kelly. He stood there, very still, then disappeared behind the curtain. A moment later, the door opened.
Kelly crossed over, and Legrande said, Jack, is it really you?
As ever was, Henri.
Legrande removed his spectacles, stuffed them into his apron pocket, hugged him, and kissed him on both cheeks. After all these years. Come in at once.
In the Victorian sitting room in the flat above the shop, Kelly was amazed at the number of photos, not only of Mary but of Mary and Henri. Legrande found him examining them when he came in with champagne.
So shes still with you, Kelly said.
Always has been.
No room for another woman in your life.
Henri thumbed off the champagne cork and paused. Now and then. After all, a man needs a woman, but nothing serious. He raised his glass. To me and to you and all those other young bastards at Camp Fuad, most of whom are probably dead by now.
I can certainly think of a few Provos who are, Kelly told him.
Henri poured him another and they sat down. You were in the news when this peace process went through, Henri said. There were lists of the prisoners pardoned. So you were serving five life sentences in the Maze Prison? A formidable record.
I never shot anyone who wasnt shooting at me first, Kelly said. We were fighting a war.
So what do you do now, how do you make a living? Henri reached for a second bottle and opened it. Get on with it I want to know it all.