To Keep a Bird Singing

by Kevin Doyle

  Big Ears was standing at the door. He went to Meabh and draggged her to the open sack. She resisted but he struck her viciously and she went still. Noelie screamed through his gag. They laid Meabh in the sack and Big Ears pulled the zip up halfway while Keogh worked at wrapping the long chain around Meabh’s neck, under and around the outside of the sack, back and forth, occasionally threading it through the handles as well. Keogh tested the shackle by pulling it roughly and Noelie saw Meabh wince.

  Big Ears took a lock from the kitbag and Keogh secured the ends of the chain with it. Dumbbells were produced but Keogh hesitated. ‘We’ll put them in later.’ Looking at Noelie, he added, ‘We’re taking you all for a boat ride, your final voyage.’

  Noelie tried to speak but couldn’t. Keogh took the gag from his mouth as Albert came in. He surveyed the prisoners and left again. Keogh pulled Meabh closer to the door. He cleared space for Noelie.

  ‘You’re Father Boran.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘You’re the right age, over sixty, you know Albert and you’re in Sinn Féin. I can’t really see the resemblance but …’

  Keogh came closer, squatting near Noelie. ‘My eyes are the giveaway. When I was young I was told I had quite the stare.’

  It was possible, although Noelie wasn’t sure. Keogh’s brows and nose looked different to those of Boran; the shape of his face didn’t even look the same. A complicating factor was Keogh’s beard. The photos of Father Boran showed a clean-shaven, youthful priest. In contrast Keogh sported a full beard, groomed and grey now.

  ‘How did Dalton work out who you were?’

  ‘He didn’t. He saw me with Albert. It was Albert he recognised. I had changed my appearance. The people who wanted to use me had to help out so they paid for a plastic surgeon. I attended for years, on and off, all at the taxpayers’ expense. A nose job, brows, a chin lift, implants. Everything helped. Anyway, none of the Danesfort boys had laid eyes on me since way back so I had that on my side too.’

  ‘And you were dead.’

  Keogh laughed. ‘You’re right. When word goes out that someone has died, I suppose people switch off. It put the brakes on anyone with a grudge coming to find me. It was a smart move.’

  Watching Keogh, Noelie realised that some part of him had probably enjoyed the deception. He had ditched his abuser–Boran identity and become a personable journalist.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ continued Keogh, ‘Albert looked just like he always did. Older but the same. We only met occasionally, once or twice a year. So for Dalton to see us together was bad luck – for us, and for Dalton, as it turned out. I don’t know what made him suspicious but later on I found out that he had followed me and discovered where I lived. This was the late eighties. He watched me for a while, I think, and then went to the gardaí and made a complaint, saying who I was and what I had done. Things were beginning to change in Ireland then and the police could no longer ignore allegations like that. Dalton didn’t know what he had got himself involved in though. If his complaint was followed up, it was going to cause a lot of trouble. So, he had to go away. But a lot of what went wrong after stemmed from our unlucky, chance encounter with Dalton.’

  Meabh wriggled and Keogh stared at her.

  ‘Although not her. She was a different complication.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Albert hated Sean Sugrue. He was too close to his brother Robert and he was a decorated cop. A high-principled Catholic to boot. All the things that Albert actually wasn’t.’ Keogh lowered his voice, whispering, ‘Albert’s a nasty sinner, not that you can ever tell him that.’

  Meabh was listening, looking at Keogh.

  ‘Sugrue would bring his daughter to prayer meetings at Llanes. Not that wise. There was trouble in that organisation of theirs, in that house too.’

  ‘Let There Be Light?’

  Meabh rolled slightly on the floor, trying to move, but Keogh seemed to lose interest and returned to arranging a sack for Noelie.

  ‘Branch underestimated you,’ he said, looking at Noelie. ‘Albert too. You’ve really upset things around here.’

  ‘Where is Hannah?’

  ‘The pipe bomb should’ve been the end of you. When it failed to do the job Hannah did us all a favour by presenting herself on Facebook. It was too good an opportunity to miss. The idea was I’d meet you both at the station. It would be accidental and I’d lure you away.’ Keogh nodded at Meabh. ‘Instead, you suddenly went to Glenville with that bitch. The decision was made to take Hannah anyway. It wasn’t difficult. She didn’t realise until it was too late. And of course, she was perfect bait. Inevitably you were going to come looking for her and you did.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It does matter,’ screamed Noelie. ‘Have you harmed her? Where is she?’

  Keogh frowned. ‘The strange thing is, Hannah has gifted Albert something that he was always after. The man paying for Egan’s headstone. You know who I’m talking about, right Noelie? The mysterious benefactor, ready to shell out a tidy sum for that large cemetery plot? We know you looked into that too. His name is Irwin and he’s coming to Cork tomorrow. Somehow Hannah managed to make contact with him. He thinks he’s going to meet you and Hannah but we’ll be waiting.’

  Producing a second chain, Keogh untangled it and laid it along the sack. Noelie realised he had to keep Keogh talking. It was their only hope.

  ‘You’ve been a rat for what, nearly forty years? Making friends, betraying friends.’

  Keogh stared. ‘I never wanted this,’ he said coldly. ‘In fact I was trying to get away. I was born a Rosminian, didn’t you know that? They raised me, schooled me and when I was just a teenager they offered me a place as a novitiate.’

  ‘You were abused, I bet.’

  Keogh dropped the chain and came over beside Noelie. He stood looking at him. ‘By 1969 I had had enough. I was out of the order and had changed my name too. I took the name Keogh and I went to live in Belfast. Sure people knew I was a former priest but that hardly went against me. When the Troubles began I got involved in things in Belfast. I had to really. The Catholic community was taking a pounding. At first I just helped out. Then I was asked to join Sinn Féin. I did but I stayed out of the limelight. It suited me. I actually felt safe in Belfast and I would’ve stayed there if it had been up to me.’

  Noelie laughed sarcastically. ‘So you were reformed, is it? You expect me to believe that. Look, you abused boys at Danesfort. It’s well known. You were a nasty bit of work. Leopards and their spots and all of that. Do you really think I believe you went to Belfast and were transformed. Fuck off.’

  Albert had been standing unnoticed at the door. He had a blackthorn stick in his hand. Clearly he had heard the exchange. He came into the room.

  ‘Father Brian had changed, even I saw that. He may well have stayed there in Belfast except something happened. He had to come back to Cork to help me. That’s when everything changed, not just for me but for Father Brian too. My brother Robert abused the trust I had in him. It was Robert who created the mole, Brian Boru. Father Brian had no choice but to go along with that plan.’

  It was strange hearing Albert refer to Keogh as Father Brian. Noelie wondered about the two men and the extent of the bond between them. In the double-8 film clip, Albert and Boran were young men, Boran only about eighteen. So were they brothers in crime or was there more to it?

  Meabh had worked open a part of the body bag zip with her chin. She made muffled noises. Noticing her, Albert went over and punched her hard in the face. Meabh went still.

  ‘You sadist,’ roared Noelie.

  Albert spoke to Keogh. ‘Paul has gone to check on the boat. Don’t waste any more time. Be ready.’

  After he left, Noelie looked at Meabh. She wasn’t moving and her face was covered in blood.

  ‘Let me help her,’ he pleaded.

  Keogh shook his head.

  ‘Why did he do that?’ />
  ‘I was forced to return here to Cork to be Robert Donnelly’s mole inside Sinn Féin. For a long time I was just that. But, after the hunger strikes, as the eighties progressed, Sinn Féin started to become a real force. I was the ace card that no one knew about. Inside Sinn Féin no one ever suspected anything. I was thoroughly enmeshed. I had been in the organisation from the beginning, from the early months of 1970 in Belfast when it was hell, and that stood to me. My value began to increase but that led to Phoenix Park taking more interest in me. Eventually control over me was wrested from Robert and formally moved to Dublin. That led to even more trouble between Albert and Robert. Branch were increasingly wary of Albert, that he would jeopardise everything, even my identity. Albert’s one of a tiny number of people who know the full story.’

  ‘Why didn’t they just get rid of him? Isn’t that what they do with complications? That’s what they did with Jim Dalton.’

  ‘Albert’s too much of a danger.’ Keogh shook his head, dismissing the idea. He continued, ‘By the late eighties the first rumours of a possible peace deal were being mooted. They were keen to get any information that I could give them. Admittedly it was all low level but useful nonetheless – who was allied with whom inside Sinn Féin, what factions were on the rise, who had the initiative, that type of thing. In the years leading up to the peace process I was their eyes and ears inside the party. Think about it – that was a huge advantage and Branch appreciated it. MI5 too. Albert really was the only complication. He resented what had happened to me, what his brother had done. In turn Branch resented him. It’s been an uneasy peace.’

  Someone shouted from elsewhere in the house and Keogh left. Noelie immediately attempted to free himself but his hands were too tightly bound. He called to Meabh. He could see that she was breathing but she did not move.

  Keogh returned with Big Ears. ‘Your transport is here.’

  ‘They say abusers never stop until they are made to stop. So where did you party all these years?’

  It was the wrong thing to say. Keogh picked up the spare end of chain and whipped Noelie viciously across the shoulder until Big Ears restrained him. When Noelie finally looked up, Keogh hit him again. He felt dizzy and couldn’t see for a moment. He heard Albert speaking.

  ‘We’ll take your friend first, Father Brian.’

  Noelie watched Keogh pull the sofa aside and understood. ‘Is Hannah here? Where’s Hannah?’

  Big Ears yanked Noelie by his hair. As he rose Noelie used the opportunity to lunge at him. The two men stumbled off balance past Keogh and crashed into the display cabinet. Shards of glass splintered around them. Noelie saw Albert standing over him. He hit Noelie with the blackthorn stick.

  ‘Getting that Danesfort feeling, Albert?’ shouted Noelie. ‘Good to hit people, is it?’

  Big Ears was injured. Blood poured from a cut on his wrist. Keogh examined it and fetched a towel. He pushed Noelie onto the sack. Noelie knew they had just one last chance.

  ‘We found the film.’

  Albert, Keogh and Big Ears immediately stopped what they were doing. It was like Noelie had fired a shotgun. Albert approached and hit him again, this time with the knob of the stick. Noelie’s head went light. He tasted blood in his mouth. Spitting it out he managed to say, ‘Keogh’s in it. It was another of the items from Cronin’s lock-ups. Your friends in Branch or army intelligence or whoever the fuck is protecting you have been wandering around Cork like headless chickens trying to locate the film clip but we have it now. It was Sugrue’s trump card all along, right? Does double-8 film ring any bells, Albert? Bell & Howell cameras? One of your movies, Albert, I’m guessing. Shows you with a young boy, Keogh.’

  The ex-journalist looked very unhappy. Albert reacted by pushing the point of the blackthorn stick into Noelie’s neck and leaning on it. Noelie couldn’t breathe and his head swam with pain. Keogh intervened and Noelie spluttered to regain his breath. He couldn’t speak for a moment.

  ‘Don’t like hearing the truth, do you? Well, I can prove it. There’s a picture of the Lakes of Killarney in the room and another of Croagh Patrick. Now do you remember? Was that the old homestead in Ballyvolane, Albert, the one you had razed to the ground? Was that where it all went on?’

  Noelie saw they were rattled. He guessed that with all that had been going on that they hadn’t actually considered that the film could turn up. Clearly they knew about it though. His only hope was to panic them even more. It could give them a chance to get away.

  ‘You’re done for, Keogh. It won’t take much to identify that it was your old place either, Albert. By the way Walsh is in the clip and someone else too. The Anglia car, remember the red Anglia? The minute that film goes out the cops are going to have to act. They may not want to but they’ll have to. It’s scheduled to go on the internet later. It may even be up already. You really think we came down here without making any provisions? You think we’re that thick? You sick bastards. The Provos will have a bullet in you, Keogh, faster than you can say Gerry Adams for taoiseach.’

  Keogh and Albert left the room. Noelie could hear them talking in the hallway. He told Meabh to hold on. He hoped she could hear him. ‘They’re worried about the film. We may get a chance yet. If any opportunity comes, run for it. One of us must get out.’

  Noelie tried to free himself again but he had to give up. He didn’t know how his hands were tied but it was with something very strong. He attempted to wipe blood from his face with his shoulder. As he did, he saw the shape of a body on the floor over by the sofa. It was still and flat and was wrapped tightly in black plastic secured with duct tape.

  Albert returned with Keogh.

  ‘Is that Hannah?’ shouted Noelie.

  Keogh stooped. ‘Where’s the film, Noel?’

  ‘You bastards – what have you done to her?’

  ‘Paul?’

  Big Ears’ wrist was bandaged. He held pliers in his good hand. Albert took them. ‘Where’s the film?’

  ‘Let Hannah go and I’ll tell you.’

  Keogh grabbed Noelie by the ear. ‘We’re not doing any deals. You’ll tell us where the film is or I’ll pull every nail from every finger on your hands. Then I’ll pull them from every toe on your feet. And if you haven’t talked by then I’ll find something else to pull off or out. What about your eyes? Do you think you need those any more?’

  Noelie swallowed.

  ‘We’ll take you apart bit by bit,’ added Albert, ‘and you will tell us. We have the time. You’re all alone here with us, understand?’

  Big Ears moved a chair alongside Noelie for Albert to sit on. He cut the restraints around Noelie’s hands and forced his left hand onto Albert’s lap. Albert immediately stabbed the tip of the long-nosed pliers under Noelie’s smallest fingernail. Noelie screamed and fought back but Albert waited patiently until Noelie was subdued again by Big Ears. When Noelie finally looked at him, Albert wrenched the fingernail away. The pain was immediate and excruciating. Noelie half-stood, screaming. He was returned with force to a sitting position. Albert held the nail in the pliers’ jaws in front of Noelie.

  ‘Where’s the film?’ Albert asked calmly.

  ‘Something’s burning,’ said Big Ears.

  Albert looked surprised, Keogh too. But a moment later, they caught the smell of burning, and so did Noelie.

  ‘Go and see, Paul,’ instructed Albert.

  Keogh took charge of restraining Noelie.

  ‘Who has the film?’

  Albert was pushing the pliers under the nail of Noelie’s middle finger when the big window beside them shattered. Big Ears had just come back with news that there was a fire near the back door. The projectile that broke the window hit him directly in the face and he fell. It was half a concrete block. Another large item flew in, narrowly missing Keogh.

  There was no doubting now that there was a fire in the house and that it was close too. Black smoke was billowing in from the hall.

  Big Ears got to his feet and was struck by y
et another missile. He staggered backwards and fell again. Keogh made his way out into the hall. Albert followed.

  Noelie lay down. The pain in his hand was searing. He heard loud cracking noises and guessed the fire was taking hold. Keogh’s seaside home was largely wooden and it would easily go up with all of them still in it. He tried to stand.

  ‘Noelie?’ he heard.

  At the window, a coat was thrown over the shards of glass still in the frame. Black Gary poked his head in and looked aghast. Noelie’s face was bloodied and red. His hand looked like it had been through a mangle.

  ‘Jesus Christ.’

  ‘They have a chain around Meabh. It’s locked. Help me get her out. Hurry.’

  Black Gary moved quickly. He climbed in and freed Noelie’s feet. There was smoke everywhere. As they lifted Meabh, Martin appeared at the window and they managed to transfer Meabh to him. Torchlight broke up the darkness outside and Noelie could hear voices. A woman appeared and helped Martin to carry Meabh.

  Noelie ran over to the body wrapped in black plastic. The smoke was choking him. He tore away the plastic. It was Hannah.

  ‘Oh Jesus,’ he said. ‘Let’s get her out.’

  Noelie and Black Gary lifted her through the window to Martin. Neighbours were milling about. Noelie looked back as he climbed out. Big Ears lay on the ground by the door. There was no sign of Albert or Keogh.

  Outside, Noelie raced over to Hannah. One of the neighbours had a torch and was examining her. Hannah’s sunken face stared back at them. ‘No,’ Noelie said. He ripped more plastic wrapping from around her. She was wearing the green cardigan and black jeans she’d had on when he last spoke with her at the Voice. All her jewellery had been removed.