Avedissian worked his way along the wall, listening under each window in turn. The front rooms seemed to be unoccupied. He started on the side, but it was not until he had rounded the back corner of the house that he could hear sounds coming from within. He managed to get a look through one of the windows and saw that some fifteen to twenty children were in a large back room being looked after by three women wearing nurses' uniforms. Two men were also present, one sat by the door with a gun in his lap, the other paced up and down.
The nurses were obviously under strain but the children, all badly handicapped, showed little sign of knowing what was going on. Victims of cerebral palsy moved as if controlled by unseen strings, others seemed totally preoccupied by what they were or were not doing. Some stared into space. Some stared at the floor.
Avedissian heard one of the nurses say loudly, as if arguing with a guard, 'I will have to change him. He's soiled himself!'
The nurse won the argument and wheeled out the boy, who lolled in the chair as if his bones had been removed. The sound of running water came from a room further along the wall of the house and Avedissian realised that this might be the chance he had been looking for. If he could speak to that nurse before she returned then maybe she could tell him what he needed to know.
He crept along the back wall till he was underneath the window with the frosted panes; it was slightly open at the foot. Avedissian put his hands on the bars that fronted the window and tried to attract the woman's attention. She seemed to be completely engrossed in what she was doing. She spoke to the boy as she cleaned him up, keeping up a trivial one-sided conversation but there was affection in her voice and that was all that mattered.
'Pssstt' Avedissian tried again during a brief lull in the words and this time he was heard. The woman came to kneel down by the gap. 'Have you come to rescue us?' she asked excitedly, with a quick glance over her shoulder at the bathroom door. 'You must stop them! You must stop the minibus!'
'There's, not much time,' whispered Avedissian. 'Please just answer my questions.'
The woman calmed down and nodded.
'Where is the" royal party being held?'
'Crookham House. It's in Leicestershire.'
'How many children have gone from here?'
'Twelve. They are in the school minibus.'
'How many men?'
‘Three, including the horrible little one in the pram.'
'Did they take any of the staff?'
'Two. Miss Sanders and Miss Crispin.'
'Help will be with you soon. I promise. Just keep calm and everything will be all right.'
Avedissian crawled along the base of the wall to the front corner of the house and waited till O'Neill waved him across. They crept back through the bushes together to the gate and ran along the road to join Kathleen. 'A phone! We must get to a phone!' said Avedissian. Kathleen, who was still in the driving seat, drove off along the winding road at breakneck speed. She screeched to a halt outside a call box and Avedissian, searching for coins in his pocket, dashed out to make the call.
He called the number that Sarah Milek had given him and shifted his feet impatiently while he waited for an answer. Impatience became despair as he realised that there was not going to be any answer. Sarah Milek wasn't there! As a last resort he made an anonymous call to the police and raised the alarm about Trelford School, urging caution with a warning that the IRA would be armed. Could the police get a warning to the security people at the royal birthday party?
The police operator who took the call was obviously of the opinion that he had a lunatic on the line and behaved accordingly, at once trying to humour and calm Avedissian and persuade him that he needed some kind of help. 'I'm serious!' insisted Avedissian.
'Of course, sir,' said the patronising voice. 'Perhaps we could start with your name and address…'
Avedissian slammed down the phone and rushed out to the car. He looked at his watch and said, Three hours! We've got three hours! It's just possible!'
Kathleen made to get out of the driving seat but Avedissian told her to stay where she was. 'You're a better driver,’ he said. 'Head east to Leicestershire!'
Avedissian and O'Neill searched through road maps in the car for Crookham but had no success until they found it listed in the National Trust book. They agreed on the best way to get to it when they came off the main road while Kathleen concentrated on the immediate problem of getting free of the winding Norfolk lanes that held them like a net.
Once on the main road they picked up speed but time was still running against them. They passed a mileage indicator sign with depressingly high figures on it. Kathleen pressed her foot harder to the floor but there was no place left for it to go. Avedissian felt the knots tighten in his stomach.
After thirty minutes O'Neill passed the National Trust book over to Avedissian saying, 'You'd better have this. You can give Kathleen directions when the time comes.'
Avedissian took it and said to O'Neill, 'We’ve met before.'
O'Neill looked at him strangely and waited for an explanation.
'We met in a farmyard once. I was wearing a uniform at the time and there was a child between us.'
O'Neill stared at Avedissian. 'It was you?' he whispered.
Avedissian nodded and both of them relived the moment.
'I owe you my life,’ said Avedissian.
'It was worth saving,’ said O'Neill.
'What was that?' asked Kathleen above the noise of the engine.
'Some other time,’ said Avedissian.
Roadworks outside Peterborough slowed their progress to an agonising crawl for nearly three miles and even when they had cleared them Kathleen was left with a long chain of commercial traffic to leap-frog past before they could make any real headway again. More than once blaring horns and blazing headlights signalled displeasure as Kathleen forced the issue. It was four p.m. when Avedissian said, ‘Turn left at the next junction,’ and they were on the road for Crookham.
FOURTEEN
They were back into country lanes and the resultant drop in speed caused an almost unbearable increase in tension in the car. 'The royals must be there by now,’ said Kathleen anxiously.
'Just keep going,’ said Avedissian.
'Which way?' demanded Kathleen as they came to a road junction.
'Right,’ replied Avedissian.
'How much further?'
'Not much. Take the next turning on the left. Crookham should be at the foot of…'
The direction became irrelevant as Kathleen turned left and came upon a police vehicle parked broadside in the road. A white-sleeved officer waved them to a standstill while two colleagues, both armed, looked on.
'This road is closed, madam,’ said one of the policemen, leaning on the roof of the car to speak to Kathleen through the open driver's window. Although it was Kathleen he was addressing, his eyes took in Avedissian and O'Neill at the same time. 'Where were you making for?'
'Crookham,’ said Avedissian. 'We have to contact security! It's a matter of life and death!'
The policeman looked uneasy and signalled to his colleagues to join him. 'I think you'd all better get out of the car,’ he said, taking one step back.
Avedissian got out first, saying, 'Contact Mr Bryant, it's urgent!'
'There's not a moment to lose!' pleaded Kathleen.
'You're Irish,’ said one of the armed policemen, hearing Kathleen's accent and taking out his revolver. 'Stand away from the car!'
'For God's sake!' exclaimed Avedissian. 'There's going to be a hit on the royals. Get Bryant! Warn him!'
The three policemen looked uneasily at each other. 'Who are you?' one demanded.