From the high wall cabinet in the back room he took down a brown pill bottle, half filled with tablets, half with a wad of cotton wool.
They always said they’d come back, but few did. If they needed further treatment they headed south, where they could lie up more easily away from the daily tensions of the perpetual hunt by the military for men on the wanted list. The doctor watched them carry the man to the car and ease him into the back, propped up against the arm-rest in the centre of the seat. He wagered himself the pills would be in use before lunchtime.
The drive between the doctor’s house and the meeting place in Andersonstown took twenty minutes. They helped the wounded man out of the car and in through the back entrance the way the night’s other visitors had come. Irritably he shrugged them off once he was inside the scullery, and independently followed their instructions to go up the stairs and in through the second door on the left of the landing.
Only the Brigade commander had remained to see him.
‘How are you, Billy? Have they fixed you up all right?’
‘Not so bad. It’s only in the flesh. Not much more than a graze, the thing went straight on through. It’s bandaged up now and the doc says it’s clean.’
‘I heard a bit about it on the radio. Said you didn’t get a shot into the bastard, you didn’t hit him. Said his brat got in the way and you didn’t fire. Is that right?’
‘It’s not as simple as that.’ Oh Christ, not an inquest now. Not why, wherefore, how and when at this time of night. ‘I fired once and missed, then when I had a clear shot at him the kid came right across. She was right in front of his body and his head. I couldn’t see him so I didn’t fire.’
The Brigade commander was still smoking, in front of him the clear glass ashtray mounted with a score of filtered ends steeped in the grey powder he flicked continuously into the bowl. The debris was left in a circle round the ashtray where it balanced on the blanket over the bed.
‘If you’d just fired, child and all… then you would have got him, yes? If you’d just gone right on through with it Rennie would be dead, right?’
‘Is that what they said on the radio?’ Downs was peeved by the reception, not used to being challenged and questioned. ‘Is that what Rennie is saying, on the radio? If I had fired through the kid then I would have killed him?’
Who did this bugger think he was, thought Downs. When was this miserable sod out with an ASU? When did he expose himself? All right for those who give orders and send kids out to carry bombs into tuppenny-ha’penny supermarkets. Get out on the streets at night, know the silence of waiting, the terrible noise of action, feel a nine-millimetre slug hit you. Then come quizzing me. Anger rose in him, but not sufficient for him to shout, to release him from the discipline inculcated into him. Can’t shout at the Brigade commander. That’s mutiny.
‘I don’t know what Rennie is saying,’ said the commander. ‘The radio said the child was in the way and that you didn’t fire. That’s all. There’s no criticism of you. I know of no cause for criticism.’
Cunning sod. ‘There shouldn’t be. Rennie was no soft one. He moved bloody well.’
‘One or two people, who don’t know the facts as we do, might feel if they only had half the story that Billy Downs had ballsed it up, gone soft on the job. If they hadn’t the big picture, and knew it all, they might say Billy Downs was sent on a job, and when one of the copper’s brats got in the way that then he held his fire.’ Downs didn’t really know the commander, he was from a different part of the city. They had had no real dealings before, but rank separated them, and dictated that he must let him have his say. ‘These people, they might recall that when we shot Sean Russell, of the UDR, in New Barnsley, that he had his kids draped all over him. Now two of them were wounded, but Russell was still shot dead. The order had been to shoot him. Now we all know that it wouldn’t be fair to put your escapade tonight in the same category. And we know that your nerve is as good as ever. That you are one of the top soldiers we have. We know that, don’t we, Billy?’
‘You know it’s balls,’ said Downs. ‘I’m not soft. My nerve hasn’t gone. We’re not fighting five-year-olds. Is that what you’re saying, that we kill wee girls? Are you saying that I should have fired straight through the girl? Is that what you think I ought to have done?’
‘Don’t get ratty, Billy. It’s just we have to be careful that people who don’t know the circumstances might think that. They might point out that getting you that close to Rennie took a deal of time, and that then the front runner botched the whole bloody thing… because a kiddie got in the way. That’s nonsense, Billy.’ The voice droned on, repetition of failure dragging itself through Downs. He had to sleep, to rest, to escape from this room with this boring and nagging whore of a man.
‘We know it’s not true, Billy. We know there was a good reason for you not to shoot. We know you couldn’t see the target. We know Rennie wasn’t straightforward. I don’t know how many other people feel the same way. But that’s enough of that. Nobody will have a leg to stand on by tomorrow night. Right, Billy? We have a little job tomorrow, and by the time that’s done they’ll be silenced.’
Downs looked away, broken by the twisting of the screw. Self-doubt rampant. The commander crushed the ego out of him.
‘I’m the only one of Brigade group that knows about London. We’ve kept it tight for your protection. It’s worked pretty well… up to now. There’s a difficulty come up. The Brits have put a man in to find you. An agent. McEvoy. Harry McEvoy. Lodging down in Broadway. There’s a split in their top ranks about him. We think London wanted him but Lisburn didn’t.’
He let it sink in, watched the colour return to the man’s face, watched the fear come back to his eyes and saw the hands begin to clasp and unclasp.
‘His job, the agent’s job, is to find you. Perhaps to kill you, perhaps to take you in, or just tell them where to go. We fancy he wants to kill you. He’s been near to you already. He tipped the troops that picked up the girl that hanged herself. We think she did that rather than tell about you. Rennie was the one that questioned her. He chatted to that girl till she was ready to hang herself. You couldn’t kill him when his brat jumped in the way. You had no cause to be soft with Rennie. You’ll have a chance to let people know what you’re made of, Billy. Tomorrow we’re going to lift this fellow that’s come for you, and we’ll talk to him, then we’ll hood him. That’s where you come in. You’ll shoot him, like you shot Danby, like you should have shot Rennie.’
Downs felt faint now, exhausted by the sarcasm of the top man. He nodded, sweat rising from his crotch across his body.
‘When it’s over we’ll send you down to Donegal. Sleep it all off, and get fit again. Tonight you’ll stay in Andersonstown. They’ll pick you up at six-fifteen. They’ll have the guns when they meet you. This will sort it out, I think. Be just the right answer to those who say that Billy Downs has gone soft.’
He wanted out, and this was the chance. They were showing him the way. The way to do it properly, not so as you were looking over your shoulder for half a life-time, and running. The official way, that was how it was done. One more day, one more job. Then out. Leave it to the cowboys. The heroes who didn’t hold their fire, who shot wee kids. Squeeze the trigger right through the scream of a five-year-old. Was that Pearse’s revolution, or Connolly’s or Plunkett’s? Was it, hell. Leave it to the cowboys after one more day.
Chapter 17
The long night was coming to its close when B Company swarmed into Ypres Avenue. The column of armoured cars had split up some hundreds of yards from the street, and guided by co-ordinated radio messages had arrived at each end of the row of bleak terraced houses simultaneously. The first troops out sprinted down the back entrances behind the houses, taking up positions every fifteen yards or so of the debris-strewn pathways. From the tops of the Land-Rovers searchlights played across the fronts of the houses as the noise and banging in the street brought the upstairs lights flickering on.