“I wandered over during the initiation ceremony.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?” I demanded. The burn on my shoulder was a small, circular welt that stung like anything, and my mood was sour.
“Because I wanted you to be initiated, lad. Now we’re in. We can relax, at least a little.”
“You let McKeller and O’Casey thrash me,” I complained.
Barker managed one perfect smoke ring, then spoke. “You’ll live. Had they really intended to harm you, I would have stepped in. How was the rest of the night?”
“I don’t remember much of it, I’m afraid,” I said. “McKeller kept making toasts.”
“As soon as this case is over, I shall put you in Brother McClain’s hands at his Mile End mission in London. He’s had some success with inebriates such as you. What did you do before the initiation?”
I let the remark pass. “I went out to look at the damage to the lighthouse, and I may have kissed Maire O’Casey there,” I confessed. It was the last thing I wanted to reveal to him, but I knew it might affect the case and Barker’s plans in some way.
He puffed on his pipe a moment before launching another perfect circle of smoke across the bed. “You may have? You’re not sure?”
“No, I am sure. I kissed Maire O’Casey.”
“I see. Interesting. Did she kiss you back?”
I concentrated on my memories of the night before. “Rather.”
“You do realize that she is the sister of a young man who may have blown up Scotland Yard, not to mention our chambers.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re pretending to be someone else, and if she found out who you are, she’d probably loathe you. You are the enemy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And need I remind you my agency doesn’t exist to find you female companionship.”
“No, sir.” The words stung worse than the burn. I despised myself for disappointing him.
“Miss O’Casey, like most beautiful young women, is a complication, and we have enough complications as it is. Keep your wits about you, Thomas.”
I sighed. “Yes, sir.”
“It’s for your own good. Wash again. You’re still blue about the ears.” He got up and left me to my ablutions.
The group was slowly awakening. Rising from around the now-ashen bonfire, the young men broke their fast on the stale bread and stout from the night before. I decided to wait until we were in Liverpool again before I dared to eat anything.
Maire O’Casey was still using Yeats as a beast of burden. He was loading the hamper and some pots and pans into the cart. I wondered what sort of reception she would give me, after last night. As it turned out, it was none at all. I might as well have been a ghost for all the attention she gave me.
Sore, tired, miserable, and confused, I climbed into the vehicle beside my employer and counseled myself to be philosophical. This is life. One minute, you’re the hero and the next, the goat. Yesterday, after the success of the demonstration, I felt I could do no wrong. Now, all I had to look forward to was a ride back to the railway halt with a group of sullen people and a train ride to Liverpool.
The next day there was another hurling match in Prince’s Park. As I watched, I reflected on the fact that none of the faction members appeared to have occupations. O’Casey was enjoying summer holiday from Trinity, but who fed and sheltered McKeller and the Bannons? Were they all living on American money, like Dunleavy? McKeller suddenly entreated me to stand in for one of the players, but I’d have none of it just yet, nor of the drinking bout that occurred afterward when they won. Instead, after the game I jumped onto the first omnibus, heading back to the O’Casey house.
As I got off in Water Street, I passed a hansom cab sitting at the curb; hearing a voice I recognized, I glanced in. Two men were conversing, while the cabman and the horse waited patiently. One of the men was tall and the other short and stocky. I did not recognize the tall fellow, but there was no mistaking Inspector Munro of the Special Irish Branch. I could not believe he was here in Liverpool, a few blocks from our very street, merely sightseeing.
Suspecting I might be watched, I turned down a narrow alleyway to the next street and passed down it until I was near the back of the O’Casey house. There I squeezed between two buildings set close together, made my way to the back entrance, and went inside and upstairs quietly, so as not to alert anyone.
“Munro is in the area, not three streets from here,” I tumbled out, as I entered our room, but as usual, Barker was ahead of me. He had a chair pulled up against the wall near the window and was peering out while smoking his pipe.
“I’m not surprised. I do not care for the fellow, but he is no fool, and he has great resources.”
“What shall we do?” I whispered.
“We cannot alert the faction,” Barker said adamantly. “If the Special Irish Branch has arrived, I would not willingly jeopardize their investigation merely to save my own. You and I should lie low as much as possible and avoid being taken. Do not leave by the front door, by all means, and stay away from windows. Did you notice any constables at the hurling pitch this afternoon?”
“No, sir, but I wasn’t looking. If we get arrested, is there some way we could talk ourselves out of it? Munro will obviously recognize us if he sees us.”
“He would, but in order to clear the way for his own capture of the faction, he would probably keep us incarcerated for days. I’ve seen suspects held by the S.I.B. for a month.”
“A month!” I cried, my blood running cold.
“Oh, yes,” Barker assured me. “Her Majesty’s government takes treasonous acts very seriously.”
“But we’re innocent!” I stated. “We’re working for the Home Office.”
“Munro is not above his petty jealousies, and, as you are aware, he has a special antipathy for private enquiry agents.”
“Oh, that’s marvelous,” I muttered. “On the one hand, we have to aid the bombers and not reveal ourselves, lest we be killed, and on the other, we risk arrest and incarceration for an indefinite period, even if Munro knows who we are.”
“You put it most succinctly, lad.”
It did not help our predicament that Colonel Alfred Dunleavy came bowling in the next morning through the front door as bold as you please, brimming with confidence about our upcoming assault on London. I wanted to warn him and O’Casey that the Special Irish Branch was in the area, but Barker warned me to silence. We were playing a very close game. Especially damning was a newly acquired map of London with all the bombing sites marked that Dunleavy had brought with him.
“Five men, gentlemen,” he stated loudly enough to be heard in the street as he rolled out the map on the breakfast table around which I, Barker, and O’Casey sat. “Five heroes to bring London to her knees and to free Ireland from the chains of tyranny.”
The bombing targets were marked with stars in red ink. This was the colonel’s element, planning a campaign, a battle plan. Thirty sites were marked on the map.
“My word,” I blurted out, glancing over Dunleavy’s shoulder. “Buckingham Palace.”
“Yes,” Dunleavy enthused, misinterpreting my dread. “And the Houses of Parliament, the Home Office, the Prime Minister’s residence, the Horse Guards, and Scotland Yard again. Whitehall shall be completely reduced to rubble. Then there is the Telephone Exchange, the Central Telegram office and Postal Exchange, the Bank of England-”
“Very good, Colonel,” Barker stated. “I see you have marked all the major train stations, as well. Do you think St. Paul’s is necessary?”
“To my way of thinking, Mr. van Rhyn,” Dunleavy stated, “our biggest troubles with England began when they broke away from the Catholic Church.”
“This is a very bold plan.”
“With your new explosives, we can afford to be bold.”
“So many sites,” O’Casey stated. “However will we manage it with just five men?”
“Each man shall go out armed with two satchels. Each satchel will contain a bomb, already primed and set with a timer. Each man shall deliver a bomb, setting it in some out-of-the-way corner, if possible, and carry the second one to another location. All at once, ten bombs will detonate simultaneously. In the confusion, our bombers shall return, collect two more bombs each, and deliver them to additional sites. A half hour or more later, the second group of bombs will explode, and a half hour beyond that, the third set.”