Palmer started up the car and pulled out from behind the Land Rover. They drove in silence to the hotel. It was a drab gray building with the name illuminated in garish neon lights above the revolving doors. Not surprisingly, the road seemed totally deserted. They were in Provo territory. And the Provos had already cleared the area until the meeting was over. Palmer parked in front of the hotel and they made their way up the steps, through the revolving doors, and into the foyer. Reeves had been right. It was a dive. A teenage receptionist sat behind the desk watching a Colombo repeat on a black and white television set. She glanced up at them without interest as they approached the desk then reached back and knocked on the door behind her, immediately returning her attention to the screen. The door opened and two masked Provos appeared. They came around from behind the desk and frisked them. Satisfied that both men were unarmed one of the Provos picked up the telephone on the desk and called Kane.
“What have we got here?”
Whitlock and Palmer looked around simultaneously. Joseph Meehan, who had appeared from the deserted bar lounge behind them, was in his mid-fifties with an unshaven face and thinning, greasy black hair. The front of his shirt was stained and it hung untidily out of his trousers. He was obviously drunk. The masked Provos stood uncertainly by the desk, neither sure what to do.
“Are you telling me I had to close my hotel for these two?” he demanded of the two Provos.
“I think you should go back into the bar,” one of the Provos said to Meehan.
“This is my hotel and I’ll do what I bloody well like in it,” Meehan snarled back angrily. He levelled a finger at Palmer. “You, I don’t mind being here. But nobody said anything about any nigger coming here.”
Palmer stepped forward but Whitlock quickly put a restraining hand on his arm.
“Or perhaps you’re just here looking for work,” Meehan jibed at Whitlock. “Is that it? Are you here for a job?”
Whitlock stared back impassively at Meehan but said nothing.
“Nice suit,” Meehan said, reaching out to feel the cloth.
“Don’t touch me,” Whitlock hissed menacingly.
“Are you talking to me?” Meehan snapped. “Because if you are, you’d better call me ‘sir’.”
“I’ve had enough of this.” Palmer bristled indignantly.
“It’s OK,” Whitlock said soothingly. “Let it go.”
It was then that Meehan grabbed Whitlock’s lapel. Whitlock broke the grip and brought his elbow up viciously into the side of Meehan’s face. Meehan crashed backward against the wall and slid slowly to the floor, cradling his jaw in both hands. The two Provos made a move toward Whitlock.
“Leave him!” Kane snapped from the top of the stairs. “Get Meehan out of here. And sober him up. Mr. Brady will want to have a word with him about this later.”
The two Provos carried Meehan back into the bar as Kane gestured for Palmer and Whitlock to follow him. They climbed to the top of the stairs and Kane led them to an open door further down the passage. Palmer and Whitlock exchanged suspicious glances. If they were walking into a trap, it was too late to turn back now. They had to go on. Kane stepped aside to let them enter then closed the door behind them.
The room consisted of a single bed, a battered wardrobe and two high-back armchairs. One was facing the window.
“You’re early,” a voice said from behind a chair. Brady stood up slowly and turned to face them.
Whitlock eyed Brady contemptuously. Was this the man who had sanctioned the coldblooded murder of three of his UNACO colleagues? He felt a sudden anger surging through him but he was quick to check himself. This was neither the time nor the place to confront Brady. The time for retribution would come later …
“Let’s get something straight right from the start, Brady,” Palmer said. “Detective Inspector Reeves will be calling the hotel every five minutes to speak to me. If, for some reason, I’m not able to answer the phone, or if I should give him a code word which would imply that we were in some kind of trouble, his men will immediately storm the building. You would be their main target. Dead or alive.”
“When I want you dead, I’ll arrange to have it done on the mainland,” Brady replied. “Not on my own doorstep with the RUC only a few hundred yards away. So put your mind at rest, this isn’t a trap.”
“As long as we understand each other,” Palmer said.
Brady rang the reception desk and gave instructions that any calls for Palmer were to be put through to the room. He then crossed to the second armchair, which was facing into the room, and sat down. “Now, to business. The IRA has no quarrel with Senator Jack Scoby and neither do we have a contract out on him,” he announced, addressing himself to Whitlock. “The events of the last fourteen hours have been very damaging to our organization and it’s for that reason that I asked to meet with Commander Palmer.”
“Do you deny Fiona Gallagher is a member of the IRA?” Whitlock asked, sitting beside Palmer on the bed.
“We’ve never denied that. What we do deny is any involvement in her actions against Senator Scoby. The operation wasn’t sanctioned by the Revolutionary Army.”
“Get to the point, Brady,” Palmer snapped. “We’ve already heard all this rhetoric from your Press officer this afternoon. Why did you call this meeting?”
“It galls me to have to admit this, but right now we need each other. If the senator is assassinated in Dugaill tomorrow, our heads will be the first to roll.”
The telephone rang. Brady made no move to answer ii. Palmer reached over and picked up the receiver. It was Reeves. They spoke briefly then Palmer replaced the receiver.
“What are you suggesting?” Whitlock asked.
“That we mount a joint security operation in Dugaill tomorrow,” Brady replied impassively.
“Out of the question!” Palmer shot back indignantly. “My God, imagine what the Press would make of it. Our security forces working in league with the IRA? They would crucify us. And rightly so. It would be a betrayal of all those innocent people the IRA have butchered since the conflict in Ireland began.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Commander, I’m not suggesting that masked freedom fighters should stand side by side with the security forces. That would be a betrayal of our principles as well. No, the church and village would be patrolled by the security forces and we would operate in the woodland situated directly behind the church. The area could be cordoned off for security reasons so the Press would never need to know we were there. Don’t forget, we have people who know those woods like the back of their hands. They know all the places where Fiona could hide while she awaited Scoby’s arrival at the church. Granted, the security forces will find most of them. But not all of them. And you can be sure that if Fiona does use the woods, she’ll have done her homework. They won’t find her.”
“You seem very sure that she will use the woods,” Whitlock said suspiciously.
“I would if I were in her shoes. It’s the one area where she could hide without being detected.” Brady turned his attention back to Palmer. “The IRA are just as concerned as you are about the senator’s safety. His death would seriously damage our reputation abroad. That’s why we’re prepared to work with you under these unique circumstances.”
“And what a propaganda coup that would be for the IRA if you were instrumental in thwarting Gallagher before she could get to Scoby,” Palmer said disdainfully. “It’s very transparent, Brady. And I’ll have nothing to do with it. I have every confidence in the security forces. We don’t need your help.”
“You’re overlooking one important point here, Commander Palmer. None of your people knows what Fiona looks like, do they? I do. So would the people I’d use to search the woods. We’d be able to spot her straight away.”