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 wouldn t 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. Mary s, 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 Mary s 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 who d been commanding the police station where Mary had died, met a similar fate.
I d say that s pretty convincing proof, but why would Legrande target the Member of Parliament? He didn t 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 Henri s 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 haven t a clue. I wasn t 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, who d been examining the phone book on his desk, said, Here we are. Henri Legrande. Rare books, fine art, antiques. It s called Mary s Bower.
Kelly said, Well, we know where the shop s name comes from. Where are you going with this?
Abu is just a messenger boy passing on orders, but orders they are. You ve boasted of your sleepers in London. Now you re supposed to activate them to sort out Ferguson and his people.
Kelly said, It isn t 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 you re a dead man walking, because you ve been lying to Abu and Al Qaeda. I don t intend for you to pull me down with you. Stay on the phone for five minutes. I ll be back.
He went out to the kitchen and dialed a number on the wall phone. A man s 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 you re going to take on Ferguson yourself. I ll 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 can t sort your problem, nobody can.
But I don t know if he s still around, Kelly said. We haven t 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 you ll be in London later today and thought you d 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 you re seeking is his expertise on the best way to handle Ferguson, and that you re not expecting him to carry a gun for you or anything like that. Don t offer him money the kind of man he is would be offended, and I suspect he s got more than he knows what to do with.
Kelly said, Owen, you re a genius.
I m not going to argue with that. Now, get moving.
Right, Kelly said. I ll phone Henri, then I ll get the Beech Baron to pick me up from Drumgoole. I ll cover my back by phoning the finance director at Talbot International and telling him I need to discuss the estate s books. What are you up to?
I m taking Jean out to dinner tonight.
You seem to be seeing a lot of her these days.
Don t get ideas. I m just a substitute for her son. You once told me he apologized to her in front of you for not having told her he d served in the SAS and that he d killed many members of the Provisional IRA.
That s true.
And you really think she wasn t aware of his involvement with Al Qaeda?
I m sure of it, Owen, Kelly said.
I was as close to him as anyone, and he didn t 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 he d been doing.
So what are you saying?
I m doing the same to her, and I don t 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, I m feeding her Al Qaeda lies. What the hell can I do?
Nothing, Kelly told him. And don t 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 isn t a thing we can do about it. I wouldn t 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.
Let s hope you re right.
Well, sometimes I am. Kelly laughed. You know something, Owen? I m feeling better already, so let s just play the hand the Good Lord s 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 doesn t 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.
FIVE
Later that day, Jack Kelly was on the corner of Park Lane and Curzon Street, walking down toward 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.