‘It’s a speech impediment,’ said Cribb. ‘The legacy of his accident.’
‘Poor beggar! You wouldn’t believe there’s a brain still functioning behind that piece of silk.’
‘It’s hard to credit,’ Cribb agreed.
‘Come, Brothers, we have much to do,’ Carse called from across the table. ‘Sister McGee, we await your father’s report.’
Rossanna was on her feet. ‘Gentlemen, my father wishes to welcome you to this meeting of our camp, here in the enemy’s country. A year has passed since he left his brothers in New York and set sail for England with the object of putting John Holland’s work to practical use on this side of the Ocean. It has been a difficult year, blighted by adversity, but in all our work the flame of the cause has burned bright, never flickering, nor threatening to go out. Maimed as he is, crippled and bereft of speech, my father is still the revolutionary you commissioned to carry out the active work of the Clan. And he is proud to report that with the loyal support of other members of the group here present, not to say the practical assistance of patriots domiciled in London, he has brought his work to perfection.’
‘We shall form our own opinion about that,’ said Carse, without much charity. ‘What is the plan?’
Unperturbed, Rossanna continued: ‘Well, gentlemen, I think you know. Our purpose is assassination. We are pledged to take the life of a certain personage, to demonstrate the strength and resolve of the Irish movement. The difficulties of such a mission at the present time are legion. There is not a public figure in London, not one miserable undersecretary, who does not have his personal body-guard. You cannot get within a hundred yards of a public building with anything that distantly resembles an infernal machine.
‘But the more difficult the task is made, the more brilliant will its achievement seem. We have been compelled to answer English organisation with Irish genius. Our submarine boat gives us the means of penetrating the enemy’s defences by a route they cannot dream is possible. For many months, our agents have observed the passage of sea-going ships up and down the reaches of the Thames. It was thought at first that we might mount an attack with torpedoes on one of the vessels of the merchant fleet. Then a more audacious plan suggested itself. It is the custom for ships to anchor in Gravesend Reach to wait for the next tide for the last mile upriver. Outgoing vessels, too, break their journeys here for at least one tide to take on passengers. Gravesend has become the place for fashionable people to embark and disembark. They pass between the ships and Gravesend pier on small steam-launches. Mr Gladstone himself used Gravesend after his cruise in the Pembroke Castle with the Tennysons and Sir Donald Currie last September.’
‘Jesus! If only we’d been ready, we could have done for Gladstone!’ said Devlin.
‘And set the cause back twenty years,’ said Carse witheringly. ‘The Clan does not murder indiscriminately. Gladstone for all his faults provides the best hope we have of achieving Home Rule. Please go on, Sister.’
‘I was remarking that Gravesend is patronised by all the most illustrious ocean-going travellers,’ said Rossanna. ‘It was obvious to my father that sooner or later some person suitable for assassination would appear there. But rather than focus our attention on the ship, and attack it with torpedoes, he fastened on a more certain means of destroying our victim; it is to attach a watertight box containing a bomb to the underside of the pier. It will be clock-timed, of course, and set according to the itinerary, which is always conveniently published in the newspapers when personages of that class set sail.’
‘Stunning!’ said Millar. ‘The submarine boat can deposit the bomb two hours ahead, and be clear of the area by the time it detonates.’
‘Exactly. And it is far more certain to account for its victim than a torpedo fired at the iron hull of a great oceangoing vessel.’ Rossanna surveyed her audience to see that the point was taken.
Carse placed his hand palm downwards on the table. ‘One moment. This pier. It would need to be a floating pier to take account of tidal variations, would it not?’
‘Lord, yes,’ said Devlin. ‘The average rise and fall is fifteen feet. But the river is twenty-five feet deep at low water at Gravesend. We’ve been into all this.’
‘I don’t doubt that you have. What I cannot comprehend is how you propose to attach Brother Sargent’s bomb to the underside of the pier. When you are ten feet under water in a submarine boat, you cannot open the man-hole in the roof, you know.’
Devlin ignored the sarcasm. ‘That is why I have devised an apparatus-a form of harness-to convey the bomb on top of the conning-tower, after the fashion of the rack on top of a cab. Several hooks will project upwards ready to fasten on to the pier when we pass beneath it and so detach the bomb from its harness.’
Carse released a long breath, vibrating his lips at the same time. ‘That sounds extremely hazardous to me.’
‘Courting disaster,’ added Millar, for emphasis.
‘What if the mechanism of the bomb is disturbed?’ said Carse.
Cribb decided some expert reassurance was wanted. ‘Ah, if that happens, it’s a guinea to a gooseberry that the thing won’t detonate at all.’
‘But Mr Sargent’s bomb is so beautifully packed that it is most unlikely to be disturbed by the manoeuvre,’ Rossanna quickly added. ‘You must examine it yourselves. It’s as neat as a picnic-hamper from Fortnum and Mason.’
Cribb noted the compliment. It was comforting to know that if he was drummed out of the Force for his part in these activities, there might be an opening in the grocery trade.
‘Very well,’ said Carse. ‘Let us presume that the explosion is successful. What guarantee is there that it will destroy a man standing upon the pier?’
‘I should have thought the answer to that was obvious,’ said Rossanna, clearly becoming nettled by the trend of the conversation. ‘This evening we saw a brick building totally demolished. We are now talking about a pier constructed of wood.’
‘The bulk of which,’ countered Carse, ‘is below the surface of the water. I think it would surprise you if you saw the volume of timber required to support a floating pier. The charge-if it detonates-will rend the planks asunder, I agree, but I am not so sure that it will kill anyone standing on top. We have not gone to so much trouble and expense to let our victim off with a ducking.’
‘But the gazebo was blown to smithereens by a bomb ten feet underneath,’ persisted Rossanna.
‘Not so, my dear,’ said Carse. ‘Brother Sargent’s bomb destroyed part of the understructure. When that was gone, the building collapsed. What we saw tonight was admirable in its way, but quite a different exercise from blowing up Gravesend pier.’ He paused, before adding, with exaggerated courtesy, ‘Sister.’
Rossanna flushed with annoyance. ‘Then perhaps- Brother-you can suggest a better way of doing it.’
‘Certainly,’ said Carse in the same bland tone. ‘How much dynamite do we have in store here, Brother Devlin?’
‘About two hundredweight.’
‘Very good. And is this submarine boat capable of conveying that amount to Gravesend?’
Devlin frowned, puzzled. ‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Very well. This is my proposal, then. Instead of trying to do clever underwater tricks with hooks and harness, we make quite sure that our bomb is lodged in the right place by converting our submarine boat into the biggest and most devastating infernal machine in history. In other words, we stuff the boat with dynamite-including Brother Sargent’s estimable bomb, which in these circumstances will serve as the detonator-and anchor it below the pier. When it explodes, the pier and everyone on it will be blown to bits, and probably half Gravesend as well.’
‘Cripes, that’s brilliant!’ crowed Millar. ‘It can’t fail!’
‘Destroy the submarine boat?’ said Devlin, disbelievingly. ‘It’s taken a year to assemble it.’