To Keep a Bird Singing

by Kevin Doyle

  The neighbour rechecked, looked at Noelie and shook her head.

  ‘No,’ he screamed. Black Gary was close by and tried to hold Noelie. He shook himself free. He put his arms around Hannah. She was lifeless.

  ‘Not this,’ he said. ‘Please, not this.’

  Song for a Poor Boy

  39

  Albert held Keogh by the shoulders.

  ‘We need to go.’

  They were in a narrow lane at the side of Keogh’s house. The glow of the fire lit their faces. People were emerging along the road, from the nearby holiday estate and from other homes overlooking the sea. They could hear a siren.

  Keogh didn’t move. His face was blackened and his beard singed. He looked drained and defeated. He had fought the fire for as long as he was able but there was no hope now. A sudden sharp crack saw flames break through the roof and send a shower of sparks skywards.

  A neighbour hurried towards them, calling out. Keogh didn’t move. Albert turned and walked quickly along the lane as far as the junction with the main road. At the corner, there was a gap where steps descended to the shore below; he nearly fell. He was afraid. There was no handrail and little moonlight. He could hardly understand the sudden turnaround in their fortunes. He made his way down the steps slowly and carefully.

  On the shore below he walked towards a flashlight that moved slowly from side to side. He could hear waves breaking. Two men approached. Both wore dark sailing jackets, trousers and baseball caps. Beyond them in the swell, a long rib floated. A man, silhouetted at the helm, was ably maintaining the boat’s position. The transport intended to take Noelie, Meabh and Hannah to their deaths would now save Albert.

  ‘What happened up there?’

  Albert didn’t answer. ‘We must go immediately.’

  ‘There’s no one else?’

  ‘No.’

  There was hesitancy, Albert sensed it. Although it was nearly impossible to see the expressions on the faces, Albert knew these men well. They were conservative in manner and they avoided danger, but they understood self-preservation.

  They moved to the water’s edge. The rib nosed forward, retreated and nosed forward once again. The pilot was adept. Eventually, he held the rib steady and Albert and the others boarded.

  Above, on the cliff, the fire brigade had arrived. The blue emergency lighting rotated eerily in the dark. Suddenly a powerful beam of light lit up the shore in front of them, momentarily panning over the rib. The light settled finally on the burning house, which was now shooting flames into the night. Other emergency vehicles arrived.

  The engine on the rib accelerated. Reversing perfectly, the boat suddenly lurched and turned sharply, almost ditching Albert overboard. Repositioning himself he stared at the glow up on the cliff. Soon there would be nothing left of Keogh’s place. One good thing anyway, Albert thought ruefully.

  What was wrong with Keogh? More than anyone he had the most to fear by remaining. He could’ve come. With his connections Albert would’ve been able to get him away. But Albert had noticed a torpor about his friend of late. Keogh had confided to him only recently that he had come to believe that he would never be free of Special Branch. Repeatedly they had broken their promises to him. Albert wondered if this was the real source of his friend’s malaise. Had he finally given up?

  They passed outlying rock. The water was surprisingly calm. To the west there was a headland and the rib appeared to aim for the tip of this. But, in between, the outline of a sailing yacht at anchor was visible – their destination. Gaining speed the wind gusted in Albert’s face and he calmed down. His fear vanished and, as often happened with him, the thrill of the escape turned him buoyant and optimistic.

  He called out then above the din of the engine, ‘Did you know I came to Ireland by boat? I was only two years of age. Across the Bay of Biscay. I remember it too. They say you cannot remember things at that age but the Lord Jesus blessed me with a good memory and I remember it all. I was happy although I didn’t know that I was arriving in hell.’

  The others in the rib made no comment. The man closest, sitting alongside Albert, didn’t even look at him.

  40

  Noelie and Meabh were taken by garda escort to Cork University Hospital where they were checked and X-rayed – neither had any broken bones or fractures. The interlude at the hospital was a much-needed respite. Noelie was sore, angry and broken-hearted. Word had proceeded their arrival that they had been the victims of multiple assaults and that one of their number had died. They were treated sensitively. The hospital wanted them to stay overnight but they refused. Noelie knew that a confrontation with the gardaí was inevitable and he wanted to get it over with.

  On discharge, they were met by detectives and brought to Anglesea Street Station. It was agreed that Meabh would accompany him and wait in the station’s foyer. If Noelie was charged with any offence she’d call a lawyer immediately.

  Cronin had been attacked in the early evening two days earlier. He had been beaten extensively over a number of hours. The direct cause of his death was a blow to the head. The murder weapon had been located – a metal poker – and it had Noelie’s prints on it.

  Simultaneously a car had been reported abandoned near the Lough, a suburb on Cork’s southside. This was identified as Noelie’s Astra. Blood on the driver’s seat had been identified as Cronin’s.

  Noelie explained that the poker had disappeared from his flat during the break-in on the eve of Bonfire Night. He had left his car near the Cork City Gaol a couple of days earlier, shortly before he and Meabh called to see Albert at Llanes. He hadn’t been back to retrieve it.

  Inspector Lynch asked for more details but Noelie said that he didn’t know anything more. He repeated that he’d had nothing to do with Cronin’s death and added, ‘We found the film.’

  If Lynch knew what Noelie was referring to, he didn’t let on. ‘What does that mean?’ he asked.

  ‘Don Cronin’s lock-ups in Dillon’s Cross, ring any bells? Know what I’m talking about now?’

  Lynch looked annoyed. ‘Get something straight – I’m asking the questions around here.’

  ‘There was something else besides the Sugrue statement,’ continued Noelie. ‘A home movie recorded by Albert Donnelly at the Donnelly farm in Ballyvolane some time in the early sixties. It shows boys being abused.’

  Noelie stood up, startling Lynch.

  ‘Sit down,’ the inspector ordered. A uniformed garda immediately entered the room but Noelie was already over beside the internal window. He thumped the Plexiglas mirror, shouting, ‘The people standing on the other side of this window know all about the film and this sordid business.’

  Noelie was restrained and returned to his chair. Lynch eyeballed him. Pityingly he said, ‘You’ve lost it.’ He told the garda to leave again.

  ‘Father Brian Boran, Tommy Keogh, know those names? Brian Boru? Earlier tonight Tommy Keogh confirmed to Meabh Sugrue and myself that he was and is a paid informant handled by Special Branch. He also confirmed that he’s a member of Sinn Féin and has been since the early seventies. He admitted to being blackmailed and that he was forced to inform on the activities of the party, giving details about the inner working of the organisation. Boran’s own story is sordid. As a Rosminian priest he abused boys at Danesfort. He later moved to Newry, left the order and changed his name. In Belfast he got involved with Sinn Féin and has been associated with them since. Ring any bells now?’

  Lynch only stared.

  ‘Jim Dalton was at Danesfort Industrial School. He was abused there. Like other victims, he couldn’t forget. A while before he disappeared he saw the man who abused him here in Cork. He couldn’t understand it because he had heard that Father Boran was dead, that he had died in a fire in Belfast in 1971. In fact there is a record of a Father Boran dying in the North at that time. According to Keogh himself this was a smokescreen aimed at securing his new identity. Branch knew that it was possible that some of his victims would come looking for
him. Jim Dalton was sure though. He did some digging of his own and eventually realised that the man that he had in his sights was his old abuser, Father Boran. So he went into a garda station here in Cork and filed a report. But what he didn’t know was that the man he was making the complaint about, Tommy Keogh, also known as Father Boran, was working for Special Branch.’ Noelie paused. ‘In addition, for your information, this film also features the late Leslie Walsh, the property developer. You know him, don’t you? You were at his month’s mind; I saw you there.’

  Lynch looked uncomfortable for the first time. ‘If such a film exists and it’s a record of a crime, it must be handed over to the gardaí immediately.’

  Noelie laughed. ‘So you can destroy it? We intended to hold a press conference in the morning. On the other hand if, as seems likely, I am to be charged with murdering Don Cronin, I think I’ll ask Meabh to defer the event until I’m brought to trial. I’m fairly certain I’ll be able to use the ensuing media circus to my advantage.’

  There was a long silence. It seemed that Lynch was finally about to speak when a sudden rap on the door halted him. He went over. At the door he spoke to someone and left.

  After a while Noelie went over to the door and opened it. He asked the uniformed garda outside if he could speak to Meabh. She was allowed in.

  ‘You look bad.’

  ‘You don’t look too good either.’

  They embraced. Noelie held on to Meabh. Although he had acted defiantly in front of Lynch he felt empty inside. Hannah was dead. Only anger and adrenalin were keeping him going.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about what my father must’ve gone through.’

  ‘Hell, I’d say.’

  ‘Sitting on all of this, not knowing who to turn to or what to do. Afraid.’

  ‘He must have known his life was in danger for some time.’

  They sat. Occasionally other noises from the station intruded. Eventually Meabh moved nearer and whispered, ‘Martin sent word that a copy has been safely put away.’

  It took Noelie a moment to understand. He nodded. The film was now their insurance; it was everything.

  He still didn’t know yet how Martin and Black Gary had turned up in Crosshaven. He enquired if Meabh knew but she didn’t. He remembered another thing.

  ‘When we were at Keogh’s, before all the trouble began, I saw you look at me strangely and then you suddenly wanted to go to the bathroom. What happened?’

  ‘When Keogh’s mobile rang, I saw the caller ID as I reached to get it for him. It said “Albert”. Everything fell into place then. Before that, I had been looking at Keogh and it had crossed my mind that he looked a little like the guy in the Photofit. He was going on about my dad too, remember? I thought that that was quite weird. So when I saw the caller ID I knew. My idea was to go into the bathroom and phone for help but Keogh guessed I’d worked it out. He followed me. Albert and that other animal, Big Ears, were already there, waiting. They had just arrived.’

  Lynch returned. He made no comment about Meabh’s presence and sat down.

  ‘The charges can be put on hold if you hand over all copies of the film.’

  Noelie put his wrists together on the table. ‘Let’s go.’

  Lynch held Noelie’s stare.

  Meabh spoke. ‘My father was murdered to protect a child abuser. Let’s not mince words, that’s what he was. You aided and abetted the cover-up around Keogh and my father’s death and now you dare, you fucking dare, to ask us to hand over the evidence that proves what was going on. I’d shoot myself first. Actually, if it was up to me, I’d speak out about this right now. I feel sick even knowing about what happened, about participating in any way in not bringing the entire matter into the public eye immediately.’ She looked at Noelie. ‘He feels the same. A child abuser and a murderer protected by you and your colleagues, for what?’

  Lynch looked at them coldly. ‘We’re still investigating Don Cronin’s murder. For now you’re free to go. I would suggest, in respect to what happened at Church Bay, that you both need to make statements as soon as possible. I’d advise you to do it now or first thing in the morning. You can make appointments at the desk outside if you wish.’

  Lynch collected his paperwork.

  Noelie looked at Meabh and spoke again. ‘Keogh told us that Dalton identified him. He saw him with Albert and realised that he was Father Boran from Danesfort. According to Keogh that was the reason why Jim Dalton was killed, to protect Keogh’s identity.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about that.’

  ‘We don’t believe you.’

  Lynch put his face close to Noelie’s. ‘I don’t give a fuck what you believe.’

  Noelie smiled. ‘Well, let’s see about that then. Jim Dalton’s remains? I think you know where they are. You come up with them or their location or we’ll publish the film. Do you understand what I am saying?’

  Lynch looked at Meabh and at Noelie once more. He walked to the door. Noelie followed.

  ‘You have forty-eight hours. Tell the Dalton family what they want to know or it’s all out in the open.’

  Meabh was standing over beside the internal window. ‘I assume you heard that too,’ she said to the mirrored glass.

  Outside the station the streets were quiet; it was the early hours of the morning. Noelie and Meabh walked in the direction of Martin’s place. Things had gone better than he’d hoped at the station. They had faced down Lynch and Branch and that was no small achievement. They had also taken the initiative with the ultimatum. Lynch had looked rattled. Yet Noelie only felt sadness. When they reached the south channel of the river, he stopped and began to cry.

  ‘What have I done?’

  Meabh stood beside him at the quayside railing. She saw him shudder and held him.

  ‘You didn’t cause this,’ she said eventually. ‘You must never believe you caused any of it. It’s like me saying that I caused the attack on myself or that my dad brought about his own death.’ She made Noelie look at her. ‘Do you understand? It’s not true.’

  Her words made no difference. Noelie turned away and wiped his face with his good hand. He stared into the muddy river.

  41

  Black Gary and Martin were waiting for them at Martin’s flat. Meabh hugged them immediately and Noelie did the same. Black Gary and Noelie held each other for a long time. They had been through a lot together. Black Gary was a survivor and in spite of everything he was still fighting. Now Noelie had some sense of what that had cost him.

  ‘You saved our lives,’ said Meabh.

  Black Gary smiled. ‘Our pleasure.’

  While Martin put on tea they settled in the semi-dark in the cosy sitting room. Noelie felt a little better. In part it was the company but it was also because he felt safer.

  Meabh gathered their phones, placed them in the bathroom and closed all the doors. Martin put David Gray on his sound system at a low volume.

  Black Gary explained how they had come to be at Church Bay. As planned he had made contact with Martin. They had made a digital copy of the double-8 film and then dismantled the projector. Downstairs in the hotel foyer they were preparing to separate when Black Gary saw Albert.

  ‘I hadn’t seen him for forty years and yet there he was at reception. I realised immediately that his being there had to be connected to you two.’

  ‘And,’ added Martin, ‘the guy with him was the one who called looking for you that evening you hid in the train tunnel. The one with the large ears.’

  ‘We watched them. They were in no hurry until Albert took a phone call. Immediately after that they left. We decided to follow them.’

  ‘If it hadn’t been for you we were finished,’ said Meabh.

  ‘We weren’t sure of where we were going down at Church Bay,’ said Martin. ‘I didn’t realise that there’s only one road into the area. We nearly collided with Albert in the dark. I hit reverse and we got out of there. We parked the car out along the road and returned on foot. That turned out to b
e handy later when we wanted to get away again. Anyway we looked around and eventually found Hannah’s car. We knew we were in the right place then. But there were others there too, with Albert. A few men. They talked for a while and then these men left again.’

  ‘Cops?’ asked Noelie.

  ‘Don’t know,’ replied Black Gary.

  Martin shook his head. ‘They looked too old. Okay, one was about fifty but another was easily in his mid-sixties. I don’t think they were police.’

  ‘We went in a circle to avoid being seen, going through a few gardens to get back to Keogh’s place.’

  ‘As soon as we saw Albert taking the pliers to you we knew we had to act. We set the fire to panic them, to panic everyone. We didn’t plan on the whole house going up.’

  ‘I’m not complaining,’ said Meabh. ‘Whoever threw the block through the window did a great job too.’

  ‘That was me,’ admitted Martin proudly.

  Noelie nodded. ‘Well, Big Ears copped it right in the face. I don’t think he was thinking straight afterwards. Last time I saw him, he was lying on ground and it didn’t look as if he was going anywhere.’

  Noelie asked if anyone had heard anything since about where Albert or Keogh were. No one had.

  ‘There was a report on the radio,’ said Martin, ‘about a major fire in the Crosshaven area that had resulted in a number of deaths. They interviewed a few people down there too. I think there was some fear that other houses close by could catch fire. Thank God they didn’t.’

  Noelie asked how they had fared with the gardaí. Black Gary described the chaos at Church Bay and around the inferno. ‘We mingled with the neighbours and when the opportunity arose we slipped away. I didn’t see any point in hanging about. We passed some cop cars on our return trip. I was paranoid we’d be stopped as I had the film on me the entire time. But we made it to town safely.’