The House by the Liffey

by Niki Phillips

  The House by the Liffey

  Niki Phillips

  Copyright © 2015 Niki Phillips

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study,

  or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents

  Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in

  any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the

  publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with

  the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries

  concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

  Matador®

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  Kibworth Beauchamp

  Leicester LE8 0RX, UK

  Tel: 0116 279 2299

  Email: books@troubador.co.uk

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  ISBN 978 1784625 993

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

  Converted to eBook by EasyEPUB

  To those patient family members and friends who gave me so much help in writing this sequel to The Liffey Flows On By. They are acknowledged by name in the Author’s Note at the end.

  Contents

  Cover

  The Butlers and their Relations

  Friends from the Past

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Author’s Note

  The Butlers and their Relations

  Tom Butler: Died in 1946. Father of Milo and Tommy Butler

  Aunt May Burke: Tom Butler’s widowed sister

  Milo Butler: current head of the Butler family and husband of Noola

  Mageen, Bill, Harry, Sarah and Izzy Butler: Milo and Noola’s children

  Tommy Butler: Milo’s half-brother and nineteen years his junior

  Maggie Flynn: Mother of Noola Butler and Dr Paddy Flynn

  Sean Flynn: Nephew of Maggie and cousin of Noola and Paddy

  Bob Featherstone: Uncle of Tommy Butler

  Friends from the Past

  Chuck and Liz Wilson: Friends of the Butlers dating from Milo’s days in the RAF

  Isabel Wilson: Daughter of Chuck and Liz

  Joe Malloy: Milo’s ex school-friend and his navigator and partner in the RAF during WWII

  Helen Malloy: Joe’s wife

  Prologue

  September 1962

  He gazed out of his barred window with a grin of intense satisfaction, more a snarl than a smile. Had he known it, his feelings were those of a predatory animal which, after long hours of hunting, suddenly scents blood. The thoughts went round and round in his head, almost incoherent but always with the one dreamed of target at the forefront of his mind. At long last, after many tedious years of waiting, he was going to have his revenge and, if it all worked out according to plan, it would have been well worth the interminable wait. The red mist grew behind his eyes as his rage increased and with it the old hatred that gave him such a thirst to strike back: to kill. Now, within a matter of hours, this was going to be made possible. He was going to be given the opportunity to hurt Tom Butler where he was most vulnerable. He thought of the supreme satisfaction he would get from that. And he knew he would suffer no sense of guilt or remorse whatsoever, for he believed the evil being planned would be a totally justifiable retribution. He had persuaded himself long ago that Tom Butler was the root cause of all his problems, including being caged up here in this dreadful place for all these years. In his demented state he had also convinced himself that his sister, Angela, had been murdered by Tom. His sense of reason diminished as his rage grew, which always happened when he thought of Tom Butler.

  Bob Featherstone was a very dangerous psychopath. He had been in an asylum for the criminally insane for many years, having murdered not only his sister, Angela, but also Billy Flynn, the estate manager at Riverside House, the Butlers’ home by the Liffey. In his rare lucid moments, helped by the appropriate drugs, he was well aware that Tom Butler, married in middle age to Angela, had been dead for years. He had been told that Tom had died, suddenly and unexpectedly, from a massive heart attack and he had cheered long and hard at the news, racing and leaping around his cell, punching the walls with delight until his fists bled. He had shouted and yelled:

  ‘At last, at last. Serves you right you bastard, you’ve got what you deserved!’ But once the red mist closed in he lost all sense of reality and his thoughts became totally confused. Mostly he believed that Milo, Tom’s son by his first marriage, was in fact Tom, in his muddled state merging the two men into the one character. This made a weird kind of sense, for the two were so alike and he had also hated Milo, believing him to have a shared responsibility for his misery. Now he was confident that Tom was out there waiting for him to take his long-anticipated revenge.

  A few weeks earlier Bob had been approached, in a very devious way, by a representative of a group calling themselves The Champions of Justice. They seemed to know all about him and his thirst for retribution and they fuelled that thirst, building on his twisted version of the events which had put him where he was – locked away from the rest of the world, not least from his wife, daughters and parents. His family did visit him but, with the passage of time, his recognition of them had gradually faded, so the visits were now few and far between and made more out of a sense of duty than for any lingering feelings of affection.

  The group needed money, a lot of money. It was no secret that the Butlers were exceptionally wealthy, a lot of this tied up in equity, much in valuable property, and the group members believed they had found a way of extorting a substantial sum from the family. They planned to kidnap the most vulnerable child in the family. Someone carefully positioned to do so had helped to collect vital “insider” information for them. They knew the full story about Bob Featherstone. That was no secret either, for it had been splashed across all the daily newspapers at the time. But they also knew where he was incarcerated and they had worked out a way of contacting him and maki
ng an offer they were certain he wouldn’t be able to resist. He was exactly what they needed. When Angela was alive he was a frequent visitor to Riverside House. Having his own plans for cashing in on his sister’s good fortune in marrying into the wealthy Butler family, he had made sure he had an intimate knowledge of the house and the estate grounds. So all that was needed now was for him to be kept lucid for the necessary amount of time to carry out their plans and the member of their group who was a doctor reckoned he could do that with drugs.

  Five years after Tom had died, Noola Butler had given birth to a little girl. At the time of Tom’s death in 1946, she and Milo had four children and hadn’t planned to extend the family further. However, little Iseult, known to all as Izzy, had come along, unexpectedly, and had been born almost two months prematurely. It had been a fight to keep her alive and she was, in consequence, quite a delicate child. Although Milo adored all of his children, Izzy was especially precious to him and his feelings of protectiveness towards her were fiercer than he would ever have believed possible. Almost as though nature was compensating for her fragility, she was exceptionally bright and was also musically gifted. She loved the piano, willingly spending unusually long hours, for a child of eleven years old, playing away to herself. This was open knowledge amongst the Butler family and circle of friends, and so quite easy information to access with some judicious enquiry in the right circles.

  It was this child that The Champions of Justice planned to kidnap. This child that Bob hoped he would have the chance to kill. He had never even seen her but she was the daughter of the composite and hated character he thought of as “Tom”. That was enough justification for him to do whatever it took so that he could punish his imagined tormentor. With luck he would be able to kill Tom at the same time.

  He had been assured that his escape would be easy. They had also promised him that, after he had played his part successfully, he would be spirited away to live in comfort for the rest of his life, where nobody would be able to find him. Nobody would be able to have him brought back to Ireland to resume his existence of misery behind bars. He was being carried along by a feeling of elation that was as powerful in its effect as any narcotic.

  Chapter 1

  Tommy Butler made a faultless landing in his fighter jet aircraft at the RAF base in Northern Germany. He had just completed a patrol of the border area separating the British zone from the Russian controlled territories. This being the height of the Cold War, it was considered essential to keep an eye on what was now regarded as “the enemy” and to be alert at all times for possible hostile activity along the dividing line between the opposing factions. Things were especially tense just now. The relatively recent construction of the Berlin Wall had finally created a sinister physical division between the two sectors of the city, adding a visible emphasis to the division between East and West Germany. Military personnel were all warned frequently that it wouldn’t take much to trigger an incident.

  Unaware that his approach to the airfield was being watched by the Station Commander, the sudden release of tension at the end of his watch had resulted in Tommy’s execution of a neat dive beneath a high bridge close to the edge of the airfield, followed by a well-executed victory roll, this, almost reflex action, a legacy from his recent days as a member of the Black Arrows. He was one of the most skilled pilots in the squadron and there was little chance that he would misjudge anything and cause a disaster. However, no matter how good any pilot might be, this kind of caper was strictly not acceptable and he knew that, if observed, at the very least a good dressing down would be in store for him.

  Tommy was tired and looking forward to having a hot bath and putting his head down for a couple of hours before dinner in the Mess. They all knew that the Station Commander was entertaining the second-in-command of an RAF station further north. The newly promoted Group Captain Wilson was passing through on his way to take up a posting as Station Commander of an RAF base in Cyprus. The Station Commander here, Group Captain Shelly, was an old friend and had offered hospitality. Although no such announcement had been made, it was understood that squadron members would be expected, as a courtesy to the guests, to attend pre-dinner drinks in the Keller Bar. However, before he had time to do anything, Tommy got word that the Station Commander wanted to see him in his office immediately. Tommy groaned inwardly. Why the hell had he pulled that stupid stunt? Typical of him – impulsive, spur of the moment. He knew pretty well by heart the Group Captain’s likely comments – he had been at the receiving end several times. He stood rigidly to attention in front of the man who, in truth, he admired greatly.

  ‘Well, Flight Lieutenant, you know why you’re here?’

  ‘Yes, Sir!’

  ‘Well perhaps you’d like to tell me?’

  ‘At the end of my patrol I behaved in an irresponsible manner, showing a lack of self-discipline, Sir.’

  ‘And the possible consequences?’

  ‘Loss of a costly aircraft and a pilot whose training has been very expensive.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘I was also endangering the civilian population, Sir.’

  ‘Precisely. Even you with your considerable flying skills are not immune from making mistakes. You know all this perfectly well and that dangerous stunts are absolutely forbidden. Yet you persist in ignoring the rules.’

  ‘It won’t happen again, Sir.’

  ‘Well at least you haven’t got the gall to say you’re sorry, for I’m quite certain that your only regret probably is that I saw what you did.’

  Tommy had the hardest time not twitching a smile but luckily for him controlled his face.

  ‘This has to be your last warning, Flight Lieutenant. One more such misdemeanour and it’ll have to be demotion. Dismissed!’

  Outside the closed door Tommy let out a long breath. As Maggie would say, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph”! On the other hand he couldn’t really blame the Group Captain. The man couldn’t possibly overlook such a breach of the very strict rules and he was right, it would only take a hairbreadth’s misjudgement for a disaster, especially likely when a pilot was tired. On his way back to his room one of his fellow pilots winked at him and muttered:

  ‘Neat bit of flying, Tommy!’ But following the reprimand, and especially the last warning, Tommy’s feelings were too bruised to return more than a weak grin.

  Later that evening David and Jenny Shelly were joined by Chuck and Liz Wilson with their daughter Isabel for pre-dinner drinks in the Keller Bar of the Officers’ Mess. Squadron Leader Bill Welch and his wife Marion also joined them. Bill was CO of Tommy’s squadron but had been off base that afternoon. Introductions were made and a short time into the conversation, at a level which could not be overheard beyond their circle, Bill said to David:

  ‘I heard you had to tear a strip off Tommy Butler again!’

  ‘Yes, he really is the limit. He will not abide by the rules – performing stunts at the drop of a hat. I really don’t know what gets into him. It’s as if he’s constantly trying to prove something.’

  ‘I know, and of all people he doesn’t need to prove anything – he’s a brilliant pilot.’

  ‘Not only that; he’s very good-looking into the bargain. Has it all: blond hair, blue eyes, tall and broad-shouldered.’ Jenny laughed. ‘The girls are almost scratching each other’s eyes out over him.’

  Chuck and Liz had been listening to this exchange with some astonishment.

  ‘Sorry to butt in but is this Tommy Butler by any chance Irish?’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ answered Bill. ‘Although he’s very cagey about telling anything about himself or his background, except for the fact that he is Irish and comes from Dublin.’

  ‘That’s true,’ agreed Jenny. ‘We all do understand that Southern Irish members of the British Forces have to keep a very low profile back at home. Maybe some of them feel a need to be cagey about their background when they’re over here too, but he seems to carry this to an extreme.’

  �
�I agree,’ said Marion, ‘He’s open enough about the fact that he’s an orphan, but I find it very hard to believe his parents were tinkers. I can’t swallow the idea that someone so obviously highly educated could be from a background like that, but he’s quite insistent about it and, well, I suppose you just never know!’

  ‘Absolutely. But there’s something else. He puts on that Irish accent but when he’s caught off guard he has almost no accent at all.’