'How will you contact Kell when we get to Belfast?' he asked Kathleen.
‘There are several pubs used by our people. I can get a message to him.'
Avedissian noted the phrase 'our people' and felt distanced by it. He did not say anything but wished silently that Kathleen had not used it. They discussed where they would stay until the deal was made with Kell. Kathleen suggested that she had several relations whom she could trust but Avedissian argued, and Kathleen finally agreed with him, that they should trust no one. They would find an anonymous boarding-house.
'There is one thing,' said Avedissian. 'You know Kell. Do you think he will agree to a straight deal?'
Kathleen's face took on a pained expression and she replied, 'My heart prays that he will but my head tells me different. Nobody crosses Kell and gets away with it. Something tells me that even if he gets the money he won't rest until Martin and I are dead. For Kell it will be a matter of principle.'
'From what I've heard of him I was afraid that might be the case,' said Avedissian. 'So we're not going to let that happen.'
'What do you mean?'
'I mean we start taking care of our own future.'
'In what way?'
'Kell still thinks the tapes are the key to the money. We are going to exchange the tapes for your brother and then use the money to buy a new life for all of us.'
Kathleen's eyes opened wide in astonishment. 'You intend to double-cross Finbarr Kell?' she exclaimed in disbelief.
'You've just said that he intends to double-cross you.'
'But Kell! You don't know what you're saying!'
'He's a man.'
'You don't know him.'
'All I know is you can buy a lot of time and distance with twenty-five million dollars. What's the alternative? Running? Hiding? Watching our backs all the time? That's no life. It's time to stop being a victim of circumstance. It's time to fight for what you want.'
'It's crazy… crazy,' muttered Kathleen as she considered what Avedissian was suggesting but, despite her fear of Kell, she could see that it made some kind of sense. If Kell intended to kill them even if he got the money, why give it to him in the first place? 'All right,’ she agreed.
'I had to get rid of the gun before we got on the plane. I'm going to feel naked without one. Any ideas?' asked Avedissian.
Kathleen looked at Avedissian and wondered if he really appreciated what he was getting into. Few people in their right minds would ever dream of tangling with Kell, whatever the ordnance, and here was Avedissian wondering where he could get a gun. At that moment she loved him more than she thought possible. 'We can't risk buying one. Apart from that there's no time,' she said. 'But there might still be one in the cottage at Cladeen.' She told Avedissian of the cottage used by the IRA and where she and Martin had last been together. 'Martin had a gun in the dressing-table upstairs; he kept it as a second one in case of emergencies. If Kell's men did not search the place after we left and no one has used the house since then it will still be there.'
Avedissian asked how they would get there.
'We'd need a car.'
'We'll need one anyway. We'll rent one.'
'It would be best to go at night,' said Kathleen.
Avedissian looked at his watch and said, 'We can be in Belfast by this evening.'
'You need some proper rest,' said Kathleen.
‘There's no time. But there will be when it's all over. How's the leg?'
'It's fine,’ said Kathleen. 'Have I told you lately that I love you?'
'No,’ smiled Avedissian.
'Well I do.’
Avedissian ran his fingers lightly through Kathleen's hair and said, 'I have to go out, arrange the tickets, go to the bank, get some odds and ends. Get some sleep. I'll be back soon.’
Avedissian picked up a newspaper on his way back to the flat and read it when he got in. It was strangely reassuring to find that the world seemed to be going on as normal. The more trivial the story the more Avedissian liked it and took refuge in its diversion. He did, however, find one article on Ireland and the troubles. It reported that earlier fears of a new reign of terror in Belfast had been subsiding in recent weeks with an unofficial truce apparently having been declared by the IRA after the bombing of the Shamrock Shopping Centre. It was suggested that that particular outrage had been a one-off, a show of strength for the benefit of any doubters of the new regime and did not herald a new wave of violence.
Avedissian felt uneasy at the complacency of the article. He remembered what Kathleen had said about rumours of a Kell operation to outshine even Bryant's grandiose scheme. A chill ran through him when he thought of her assertion that no one crossed Kell and ever got away with it.
He turned the page and read of a TV star's addiction to heroin and moved on to a story about a cat being rescued from a church roof by the fire brigade. A brave pensioner's struggle with teenage muggers came next and then, as he prepared to skip over the children's section, he saw a photograph that caught his attention and paused. 'Another First for Blue Peter' read the story. Royal child to share his birthday celebrations with handicapped young people from all over the country. Avedissian looked at the child in the photograph and felt a desperate bitterness when he thought of Harry. The child in the photograph would never know what happened to his unwitting alter ego or why. But Bryant would, Avedissian promised himself.
It was raining when they got to Belfast and, for some reason, Avedissian had known that it would be. The universal grey wetness was just as he had pictured it in his mind two nights before in Penning. They picked up their hire car at the airport and headed for an area of the city liberally endowed with terraced boarding-houses. They picked one for no particular reason and booked in for the night. They would move to another next day using the same story. They were stopping off in Belfast for one night before driving south.
It was eight p.m. when they left for Cladeen, with Kathleen giving directions to Avedissian, who was having trouble enough with the rain proving too heavy for the wipers. Red brake-lights flared up ahead and were reflected many times over in the river of water on the screen. Avedissian slowed and saw that there was an army patrol up ahead.. A soldier stood in the road, one hand resting on his shoulder-slung weapon and the other in the air to halt traffic.
It was an anxious moment for Avedissian who did not relish the prospect of an identity check but he was relieved to see that they were not the object of the army's interest. Traffic was being held up to allow a large military vehicle to reverse out from a lane. This over, the convoy continued.
Despite their agreement that the torrential rain could not last long, it did. It was still pouring down when they got to Cladeen and pulled into the little lane leading to the cottage. They were drenched within seconds of leaving the car and approaching the house on foot in case anyone should be staying there.
The cottage was in darkness and there was no sound from it save for the rain gurgling through the overloaded gutters. Kathleen signalled to Avedissian that he should follow her, as she led the way round to a back window near the ground. She tried it and it opened. Avedissian climbed in behind her and closed the window to stand, dripping water on the kitchen floor.
‘This way,' said Kathleen. She led the way upstairs to the bedroom and opened a drawer to withdraw an automatic pistol and hand it to Avedissian. He checked the clip and said, 'It's loaded.'
They came back downstairs and Kathleen paused to look at the living room. It was exactly as they had left it after that awful night. The lampshade still lay on the floor where it had been knocked off to expose the microphone. In her mind she could see her brother lying in agony on the floor while Kell's eyes burned with mad fury. The thought that she was getting ever closer to Kell made her desperately afraid. 'Let's go,' she said.