by Holly Green
‘I’ve been expecting you. How was your crossing?’
‘Rough. How did you know I was here?’
‘Oh, we’ve had our eye on you ever since your friend’s letter was delivered. Do you have the money?’
‘I do, but what guarantee do I have that Mr Kean will be released if I hand it over? I can’t be sure even that he is still alive.’
Macready moved to the window and beckoned James to join him. With a gesture he directed his attention to the opposite side of the street. For a moment James’s view was obscured by passing carriages and an omnibus, then he saw a group of three men. The one in the middle was Richard.
‘See him?’ Macready lowered the blind briefly and then raised it again. ‘Now, this is what you do. You give me the money and then you head straight back to the docks and get on the first boat back to Liverpool.’
‘But Kean! He must be released.’
‘He will be. He will be brought to the boat before it sails.’
‘Why should I trust you? How do I know you will let him go?’
‘You don’t have any option. You hand over the money, or your friend will not survive the night. Your choice.’
James looked from him to the figures across the street and as he watched Richard was hustled away by his two captors.
‘The money!’
Unwillingly James opened the briefcase and handed over the envelope. Macready counted it methodically and tucked it away inside his jacket.
‘Nice doing business with you. Now, the first boat, remember. Don’t try anything funny if you want to see your friend alive.’ Macready turned away and was out of the room before James had a chance to speak again.
James sank into a chair, feeling the strength suddenly leave his legs. He put his head in his hands. What had he done? What else could he have done? What were the chances that Macready would keep his word? He considered going to the police but put the idea aside. If Macready was to be believed, it would be tantamount to signing Richard’s death warrant. There was only one course of action open to him, and that was to get on the boat and hope Richard would be allowed to join him.
There was no further sailing, he discovered, before the night boat that left at nine o’clock, so he spent the rest of the day either wandering along the roads around the docks or sitting in a small bar opposite the pier. As the sun began to set, he picked up his suitcase and went to the ticket office, where he bought two tickets. The ferry was tied up alongside the quay and people were going on board. James hung around near the ticket office, straining his eyes along the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of his friend. The scheduled time for the sailing came closer and closer and there was still no sign of him. Then the ferry gave a blast on its whistle, and the ticket collector said, ‘Better get aboard if you’re going, sir.’
‘I’m waiting for someone!’
‘Looks like she’s stood you up, sir, if you don’t mind my saying so.’
‘I do mind! I’m waiting for a friend, not a lady.’
‘Well, if you wait much longer the ship will sail without you.’
James looked around at the ferry, and then back along the road. Should he let the boat go and hope Richard would appear for the next one? Or had the whole thing been a cheat? Perhaps they had never intended to release him.
He was about to head for the gangplank when he saw a figure emerge from a side street and come towards him at an unsteady run.
‘Richard!’
Richard lifted his head towards the sound of his voice. ‘James! Thank God!’
They hurried towards each other and James caught him in an embrace. ‘My dear chap, thank heaven you’re safe! Quick! The ship’s about to sail!’
He grabbed Richard’s arm and hurried him along the quay. They reached the gangplank just as it was about to be drawn up and staggered up it. Richard was clinging to him as if he was about to collapse and James was aware that the crew thought they were both drunk, but he managed to get him into the saloon and lowered him into a chair in a quiet corner.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘More or less,’ Richard said, with a shaky laugh. For the first time James was able to look at him properly and he was shocked to see that one side of his face was badly bruised and one eye was almost closed. He had been aware as he supported him of how little flesh there was covering the bones of his shoulders and arms.
‘What have they done to you?’
‘Just knocked me about a bit. It’s nothing serious.’
He was very pale. James said, ‘You look as if you could do with a brandy.’
‘Wonderful idea!’
He went to the bar and ordered two double brandies. ‘Do you have anything to eat?’
‘I could make you a cheese sandwich,’ the barman offered.
Returning with the brandies to where Richard was sitting, he drew a chair closer and said, ‘What happened? Do you feel up to talking?’
‘Give me a minute,’ Richard responded. He took a large gulp of the drink and looked round the saloon as if half expecting his captors to reappear. ‘I haven’t thanked you for getting me out. You must have known you were taking a risk.’
‘What else could I do?’
‘You didn’t inform the police?’
‘No. But now you’re free we can inform Inspector Vane when we get back.’
‘Yes, no harm in that once we’re back in England,’ Richard agreed. He took another swallow of brandy and a little colour came back into his face. ‘You want to know what happened.’
‘If you’re ready to talk.’
Richard rubbed a hand across his eyes. ‘To be absolutely honest with you, I don’t really understand it myself. But I’ll tell you the story and you can see if you can make anything of it.’
‘Tell me first, did you find any trace of Angelina?’
‘I thought I had, but I lost the trail again just when I thought I was getting close.’ He told James how he had traced his daughter as far as Meanus. ‘The gypsies said she was definitely heading in that direction, but when I got there everyone I spoke to denied all knowledge of her. I almost got the feeling that they had been told not to speak. Then two men turned up and told me they had picked her up on the road and taken her to a place where she was being cared for.’ He gave a rueful shrug and his voice cracked slightly as he went on. ‘You can imagine how I felt, thinking I’d found her at last. I went with the men and they took me to a building on the outskirts of a town called Bruff and that’s when I discovered the whole thing had been a confidence trick. They shut me in a room and started asking me questions.’
‘What sort of questions?’
‘That’s the strange part of it. They seemed to think that I was a British spy, using the search for Angelina as a cover for some kind of investigation. They said they had been warned that I was coming and had been watching me all the time.’
‘I can guess who warned them. McBride. He has been up to all sorts of no good while you were away.’
‘I think you’re right. They were under the impression that I had found out about something they were doing and they wanted to know what it was.’ He touched his face gingerly. ‘I couldn’t give them an answer, hence the bruises.’
‘My God, that man has a lot to answer for,’ James said. ‘But why set this whole charade up? Was it just to extract the ransom money?’
‘Perhaps it was intended to warn me off – though there were times I thought the intention was to kill me, after they had got the information they wanted.’
‘That’s rather what I thought, too. So how did you persuade them to change their minds?
‘I think I owe that to the nuns of the Faithful Companions of Jesus.’
‘How so?’
‘I kept insisting that I was only interested in finding my daughter, and I told them they could check my story with the Reverend Mother of the convent where she was being educated. It so happens that there is a sister house of the same order in Bruff. As far as I can ma
ke out, they checked with the nuns there, who had been approached by the Reverend Mother in case they had any knowledge of Angelina’s whereabouts. They were able to confirm my story and I think that sowed a seed of doubt in the minds of the men holding me.’
‘So what happened then?’
‘Nothing, for a long time, except they stopped knocking me about. I was just left shut up with only the two thugs who had been set to guard me for five, maybe six days.’ He lowered his head and ran both hands through his hair. ‘I could never condemn anyone to solitary confinement, no matter what they had done, after that experience. You cannot imagine what it is like to sit for hour after hour in an almost-empty room, with nothing to occupy your mind except the thought that you may not live to see the open sky again.’
James reached out and laid a hand on his arm. ‘You poor chap! It must have nearly driven you insane. It would me.’
A steward arrived with the cheese sandwich and Richard looked up. ‘God bless you! They’ve kept me on bread and water the whole time I was a prisoner. I’m famished.’
‘What do you think they were waiting for?’ James asked.
‘Not sure,’ Richard answered with his mouth full. ‘Maybe they had to refer to a higher authority. Maybe they were looking for further proof of my story. All I know is, one day the fellow who had talked me into coming to Bruff with them reappeared and told me to write that letter. Then, yesterday, they tied me up and gagged me and threw me in the back of a cart of some kind and drove me to another house, somewhere near here. This morning they untied me and told me to come with them. They had guns. They said if I attempted to get away or to draw attention to myself, they would shoot me. They took me to a busy street and made me stand there. I didn’t know why at the time, but I guess they were waiting for a signal of some kind. Eventually they took me back to the house and kept me until an hour ago, when they brought me to a side street near the dock.
I could see the ferry and I thought they must be planning for me to get on it, but they waited so long I began to think something had gone wrong – the money wasn’t right or someone had informed the police. Finally they let me go and told me to head for the boat. I can’t tell you what a relief it was to see you standing there, waiting for me.’
‘It was a great relief to me, too,’ James assured him. ‘I was beginning to think the whole thing had been a trick. But you’re here now, thank heaven. Now, you look absolutely done up. Would you like another brandy?’
Richard shook his head. ‘Nothing more, thank you.’
‘Then why don’t you put your feet up and try to sleep? Here, use this chair, and I’ll see if I can find a rug or something to cover you.’
At James’s request a steward produced a blanket and he spread it carefully over Richard’s knees and within a few minutes it was apparent that he had drifted off into a doze, which soon deepened into a proper sleep and lasted until the boat docked in Liverpool. There was a small eating house near the docks, which opened at the crack of dawn to supply dockers on their way to work or passengers catching early boats, and James took him there and watched him eat a hearty breakfast before calling a hackney carriage and seeing him back to his hotel. Having made sure that he had everything he needed, he left him to rest and headed home.
He was greeted by an anxious Flossie. ‘I’m that glad to see you home, sir. The mistress has been worse these last couple of days. She didn’t leave her bed yesterday.’
‘Has the doctor been?’
‘Yes, sir. He came yesterday evening and gave her a draft. It seemed to help. She slept then.’
‘Thank you, Flossie. I’ll go straight up and see her.’
He found the room in semi-darkness and the nurse knitting by the light of a single candle. She rose as he entered and signed to him to be quiet and, approaching the bed, he saw that his mother’s eyes were closed.
‘She’s peaceful now,’ the nurse whispered. ‘Don’t disturb her.’
‘No, of course not,’ he responded. ‘Please tell her when she wakes up that I am back from my business trip and have gone to the office.’
‘Very good, sir.’
After a change of clothes, a wash and a shave, James presented himself at the usual hour at the office of Weaver and Woolley. Mr Weaver greeted him eagerly.
‘Well?’
‘All well, sir. Richard is back in his hotel room, resting. But he’s been through the mill.’
‘Tell me about it.’
James related the events of the previous day and what Richard had told him and Weaver nodded grimly.
‘It’s as we thought. McBride is behind it. He must have told his friends over there that a British spy was being sent to poke into their doings and would be using the search for Angelina as a cover. Thank heaven Kean was able to convince them of the truth of his story! Inspector Vane should know about this, now that Kean is out of danger, but perhaps we had better wait until he is fit to tell the story himself.’
‘He promised to call in tomorrow morning, to bring you the money you lent him.’
‘Well, there’s no hurry for that, but I’ll make an appointment with Vane so we can bring him up to date. Now, have you slept?’
‘Not a great deal.’
‘That’s two nights on the trot, I imagine. Go home, my boy, and get some rest.’
James protested that he was quite ready to carry on as normal, but Weaver insisted and in truth he was glad to give in. Now that the tension of the previous couple of days was released he was suddenly aware how tired he was.
Back at the house he found his mother awake, but her mind was obviously clouded by the drug she had been given, so after reassuring her that he was well and unharmed, he left her to rest and went thankfully to bed.
Next morning, Richard appeared promptly at the offices of Weaver and Woolley.
‘I have come to return the money you advanced to pay the ransom, sir. Will a cheque be acceptable?’
‘Of course.’
Richard wrote out the cheque and handed it over. ‘I’m most grateful for your help, needless to say. If I had not had friends who could raise the sum demanded, I do not like to think what might have happened to me.’
‘As for that,’ Weaver responded, ‘I’m more than happy to help.’ He glanced at the cheque. ‘This will leave you somewhat short of funds, I imagine.’
‘Not insupportably so,’ Richard said, ‘but it will mean that I shall have to draw in my horns somewhat with regard to expenses. I shall need to find somewhere cheaper to live, for one thing. And I must concentrate my mind on the job I was sent over here to do, which has been sadly neglected of late.’
‘Does that mean you are going to give up the search for Angelina?’ James asked.
Richard ran a hand over his face, which still bore the evidence of the beatings he had endured. ‘What else can I do? If I really was on her trail before I was taken, it will have gone completely cold by now. My only consolation is that there has been no report of a body being found, so there is hope that she may have found shelter with someone – someone who, I pray, will treat her with more kindness than she has known up till now. There is no more I can do. Even if I thought there was a possibility of tracing her movements, I dare not set foot again in Ireland. It was made abundantly clear to me that if I did I would not get away with the payment of a ransom a second time.’
‘I could go, I suppose,’ James said.
‘You could not!’ Weaver responded. ‘We’ve seen how far McBride’s influence reaches. I’m not having you put yourself within his clutches on what looks more and more like a wild goose chase. Besides, you are needed here.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘I made an appointment with Inspector Vane. He should be here at any minute.’
Vane arrived soon afterwards and listened with a grim face to Richard’s story.
‘I ought to tell you that you did wrong to pay the ransom,’ he said at its conclusion. ‘That money will have gone to swell the coffers of the Fenians and to buy arms, in all probab
ility. But I can’t pretend I’m not glad to see you back here safe and sound.’
‘It seems more and more certain that McBride is still involved with the Fenians,’ Weaver said.
‘Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind about that. It’s proving it that’s the difficulty.’ The inspector shook his head in frustration. ‘I wish we knew what was in some of those tea chests that he brings in from India.’
‘Can you not get a warrant to search them?’ Weaver asked.
‘Not without evidence that we have reason to be suspicious of the contents. And we can’t go through the hold of every ship that docks, looking for chests addressed to this fictitious importer he has created to cover his tracks. If we only had some idea of when he’s expecting a new consignment; that would be a step in the right direction.’
Richard sat forward. ‘Something has just come back to me. I don’t know if it has any relevance …’
‘Go on,’ the inspector encouraged him.
‘It’s just a snatch of conversation I overheard while I was held captive. They were in the next room, so I didn’t catch all of it. I think they were discussing what I might or might not have found out – this was while they still thought I was a spy. One of them said I’d been seen around the docks in Limerick, asking questions, and another man, I don’t know who he was because I never saw him, said ‘he won’t have found out anything important there. The next shipment’s not due until the middle of September.’
‘The middle of September,’ Vane echoed. ‘The tea clippers start to arrive in early September. Gives time for the goods to be unloaded and repackaged as something McBride might legitimately be exporting to Ireland, and then loaded again for shipment to Limerick … We might get a warrant to search any shipment leaving Liverpool for Limerick around that time.’ His habitually weary expression was lightened by a brief smile. ‘Thank you, Mr Kean. You may have given us just the lead we wanted.’
The meeting broke up soon after this. Vane returned to his police station, Richard left to look for cheaper lodgings and James tried, with varying success, to concentrate on the business of the law. Returning home that evening he found the doctor once again in attendance on his mother.
