Leon Uris (74 page)

In that it was wartime, the southern part of Ireland was suddenly in a manufacturing posture. Their usual donkey-and-cart methods needed to be speeded up considerably. Weed Ship & Iron, for one, had a dozen subcontractors in Cork, Galway, and Dublin.

An entire new line of defensive security items were on the planning board and a meeting at the Belfast yard had been called with Weed’s engineers and the Army’s engineers working up a full shopping list of items to protect constabulary stations and barracks, mesh window coverings, and the like.

General Brodhead pounced on the conference as a viable reason to make the trip. Of course, he’d review the troops and constabulary in Belfast as well.

Rory was in charge of security en route to Belfast and back. Brodhead had an armored military train car, which was kept in a locked shed. The general’s quarters were in the center of the car with guard details on either end. Movements of the car were kept hush-hush, usually hitching on to a train at the last moment. After the under-carriages were inspected, a sweep engine was sent fifteen minutes ahead to make certain the tracks were clean.

At Weed Ship & Iron, Lieutenant Landers joined the military group and the subcontractors for an indoctrination tour.

Sir Llewelyn saw them off, after which he joined Lady Caroline in an exquisite small private dining room attached to her father’s office.

“No calls during lunch. The General and I will join the meeting at the conference center afterward.”

As she put the phone in the cradle, Sir Llewelyn touched her shoulder as soft as he was able, but rougher than he should have. Caroline had adjusted herself to the proposition that she was enjoying what she was deploring.

“I hope you haven’t regretted our last conversation,” he said.

“Not the thought of you and me, my dear,” Caroline said. “But it’s what we have to go through to arrange a forty-minute lunch alone. I’m getting qualms about the whole thing.”

“I don’t want to let go of this,” he said. “I realize looking back on my life, I’ve never come close to anyone like you. It was never part of my game. Now, I find myself absolutely struck and sleepless.”

“Llewelyn, we’ve known each other a long time. I say what is on my mind,” she said sending an unusual sensation of fright through him.

“Indeed,” he said.

“Maybe what we are trying to do is simply not on,” she said, watching the color drain from his face. “No less than ten thousand people know you are on the premises here. The truth is, there is probably no one in Ireland who doesn’t know either your face or mine. There are always a half-dozen people around me and God knows how many around you, all the time. Slipping away for a rendezvous is a puzzle for the gods. It’s probably dangerous for you to be unguarded, and virtually impossible for me. It’s not like Gorman and me, who are accepted as a couple. We can’t risk a chance that someone, obscure, might see us accidentally.”

“There has to be a way and we’re going to find it,” he said. “Listen, if you will. I was born into a breed that dic
tated things from the beginning, that being an Ulsterman of class means one has to be super-British to maintain his standing. The military, and no option, was clear-cut to me from childhood. A woman like Lady Beatrice was clear-cut. We have slept in separate bedrooms for almost seven years, and before that I wasn’t all that bully.”

She put her hands on his. “I’m so sorry.”

He stuffed his pipe and grunted in dismay as he brought it to a light. “Am I boring you?”

“Of course not.”

“If you are in the military, ambitious, and an Ulsterman, certain holy commandments govern your life. Your life is the regiment. Lust was not considered a sensible option.”

“Yes, poor Roger used to say that growing up in men’s clubs, men’s schools, the Army, that hard sport and a cold shower took care of one’s urges.”

“Problem is, that’s no joke,” Llewelyn answered. “Our other holy commandment is the sovereignty of the empire. To govern what we were endowed to govern, we produced the kind of officers who held our mission sacred. Therefore, I never became a rounded man, a scholar of other than field marshals, or a cultured man, or a political man, or even one who gives a damn about his rose garden. Out in the colonies one has a little leverage for sport with a mistress, or whatever.”

“And in Ulster it’s a no-go,” Caroline said. “You’re the most important man in Ireland and I won’t be responsible for seeing a brilliant career go up in smoke. Once upon a time when I was an improper young lady, I adored this kind of intrigue. Freddie always caught me because I wanted him to, to make him angry. My situation with Gorman is that we’re improperly proper. No one even bothers to gossip about us anymore.”

The mention of her constant companion annoyed him.

“I used to watch a promising colonel or brigadier toss it all away over some woman beneath him, and I simply could not understand it. God, I envied Roger Hubble
when you two were married, and every time I’ve seen you since.”

“Seems like we’re star-crossed,” she said. “With this situation there is absolutely no one I can confide in,” she said.

“A general is even lonelier,” Brodhead opined. “Well, we surely can’t run off to the continent these days,” he said, with a sting of black humor. “I’m so tied to my command I can’t even take off a long weekend to do a little fishing. I’ve been dying to go to Donegal for a shot at the salmon. I’m told they’re running in the thousands.”

“Wait a moment. What did you just say?” Caroline asked.

“A fishing holiday without a dozen staff climbing up my back.”

Caroline became intense as
discovery
worked its way up through her. “Of course. How stupid of me. Strange how you turn things inside out to find a solution that has been in front of your face, all the time.”

Lord, is this true! he wondered.

Caroline let out a little squeal of delight then reached over and gave him a lingering kiss, and quickly wiped the lip rouge from him.

“The hunting lodge,” she said. “It hasn’t been used since I left Hubble Manor. It’s completely removed.”

“I’ve been there time and again with Roger. He showed it to me after you did it over. Rather…exciting…but what about the gamekeeper and his wife?” he asked.

“They retired several months ago and I sent them to America for a year to visit relatives. I’ve not appointed a new warden.”

His heart was racing at the possibility of a woman of Caroline’s stature. No one before her remotely gave him cause to toy with regulations.

“No matter how we plan it, it still carries some risk,” Caroline said.

“Maybe not,” he replied, turning on the “battle” plans.

“Will you be able to get there by yourself?” she asked.

“Let me think about that,” he answered. “Of course, I can take a weekend at Brodhead Abbey. At that point, send staff to Londonderry Barracks and tell them I’m going fishing alone. I might mention I’m heading south, in the opposite direction, to throw them off.”

“Well now,” Caroline said, showing outward nervousness, “shall we do it?”

“Yes.”

“My, this is exciting. I could go up ahead and tidy things up and get a turf fire going and lay in some necessities. Here’s the number of my private phone at Rathweed Hall…tell me when, I’ll be there waiting.”

“We don’t want to go in by horseback?”

“Do it the simple way. Drive to the north gate of the earldom. I’ll have unlocked it. Drive in for about nine miles. There is an unmistakable path at the foot of the big hill with a stand of birch trees. You’ll see my car parked in there. It’s only a quarter of a mile up the path to the lodge, but it’s narrow to drive. Park beside my car and hike in. The lodge is about a fifteen-minute walk.”

He closed his eyes to remember…. “Yes, it’s completely hidden.”

“Nothing within a radius of ten miles.”

Their hands were wet with anticipation as they held them clasped together.

“Try not to make it too long. It doesn’t have to be a weekend, either.”

“Caroline…”

“Let’s do it,” she said.

As the conference broke up, Brodhead’s armored car was taken out of the shed where it had been under guard. The Dublin mail train had been diverted into the yard to pick it up.

Rory Landers had been one of the hits of the conference. He roughed out ideas of extremely thin metal covering to fit over light civilian vehicles to make them semi-armored.

Llewelyn Brodhead saluted and said cheerio to the gathering and boarded.

“It’s on,” Caroline said, bussing Lieutenant Landers as he boarded.

The general took off his Sam Browne belt and unbuttoned his jacket and invited Rory to do likewise. Watching the scenery flit by outside the train window cooled his high state of emotion.

“I’d say the big meeting went extremely well, sir,” Rory said.

“We have to button up in our fortresses in the countryside, and when we do come out, we’re not going to be suckered into ambushes. A lot of good ideas passed back and forth today. I’d say a drink is in order. Help yourself…. Got a lot of compliments on you today, Landers.”

“Cheers.”

“Cheers, sir.”

As Brodhead seemed to have a permanent cat-that-swallowed-the-mouse grin, Rory lay back and waited for him to either open up or shut up. He feared it was too much for Llewelyn Brodhead to conceal a conquest like Caroline Hubble. That would end the hunting lodge and maybe her participation entirely. Brodhead must not reveal a planned tryst.

The grin remained on Brodhead’s face as they talked about this and that.

“Oh, Lady Caroline requested that I give you a little furlough. She’s anxious for a visit,” Brodhead said.

“I’d like to visit with her, soonest,” Rory said.

“Caroline confided in me,” Brodhead said. “You bring her a great deal of comfort, Landers. I think she feels that you are a surrogate son, in a manner of speaking.”

“In a manner of speaking, I love her dearly,” Rory said. “I’ve met one woman like her but also unlike her-my Georgia…if I ever find her. You know what Caroline
does, sir? She fills me with a kind of confidence in myself that makes me feel like a king. After seeing her great loss, first hand, she has taught me how one should behave in the face of ultimate tragedy.”

“Too bad you didn’t know sir Frederick in his day.”

“I enjoy his company, too, as a matter of fact. You can feel his power and joy without his even moving. He must have been a wild fellow in his time.”

“You don’t know the half of Freddie Weed,” Brodhead said, laughing to himself. “Better not cross that one.”

“I haven’t met this Galloway chap, but I’ve seen photographs and heard quite a bit about him. I wonder why someone like Lady Caroline would be taken by him.”

Brodhead grumbled, shrugged, and belted his whiskey. “Caroline has an artsy side to her. She is right at home in the bohemian crowd. Odd bunch, that. Actually, that’s part of her allure. But, I must tell you she was also the most perfect aristocratic wife a man could have.”

“Sir, may I be so bold as to ask about…uh…”

“Caroline and myself?”

“You have asked me to put in the good word,” Rory said.

“Frankly, Landers, it’s a no-go situation. I’ve decided not to press the issue. It’s simply the wrong thing to do.”

“Sorry to hear about that, sir. What I mean is, well, Lady Caroline is rather…not to be believed…and I was secretly hoping for you…if I could be of service…maybe put in another good word next week.”

“No, it’s a dead issue. Duty before pleasure, you know.”

Rory felt fairly comfortable that Brodhead was going to remain silent on this matter. Too much at risk, otherwise. Now, Rory told himself, was time to spring the news.

“Sir, I’ve an unpleasant matter. I particularly waited until our return to Dublin so we could be alone. General, it’s my eyes. They’ve gotten worse.”

“Oh, my dear chap.”

“I tried to carry on before bringing this up, but I’m
afraid the way it’s going, I won’t be able to carry out my duties much longer.”

“This is a bloody blow, Landers!”

“When the old vision started getting more blurry, I conferred with Wandsworth Hospital in London. My doctor there tells me there are two medical facilities the Army has, as well as a very fine civilian surgeon in Scotland, who specializes in concussive optic nerve damage. It appears that medical advances are coming forth by leaps and bounds, as they are apt to do in a war. I’m afraid I’m going to ask to be released from your command as soon as it is convenient.”

“Hell, it never will be convenient, but we can’t have you walking around with a cane.”

“Thankyou, sir.”

“Sign off with Colonel Hunt and get to England as soon as you can.”

“God bless you, General. I thought I’d travel to England via Belfast after I visit Lady Caroline.”

“Does she know?”

“No, sir. I couldn’t tell her this time. She’s had so much grief. I hope she finds some real happiness soon.”

“Yes,” the General said, “so do I.”

The sliding section of the roof opened.

“Are you down there?” Atty called.

“Aye, I’ll send the ladder up,” Rory said.

He set it into position, then he realized he had a clear look up her skirt. He satisfied himself with a quick glimpse, then turned his head away and steadied the ladder with his good hand. Atty caught the by-play and she smiled to herself.

How many times had she come down the ladder to Conor that he ran his hand clear up her leg or she leapt into his arms and pushed him over on the bed.

“Been waiting long?” she asked.

“Not to bother,” Rory said.

“The trouble with safe-house life is the waiting. I thought I spotted a couple of detectives canvassing the Tara Street Station. It took a while before I could get into the tunnel.”

They sized one another up with an unspoken overlay from the previous meeting. They knew that personal animus had to be set aside.

“We’re in,” Atty said.

Rory shook his head and let the built-up anxiety ebb. “Let me catch my breath.”

“Aye.”

“We’re not moving any too soon on this. Brodhead and staff are starting to draw up a master plan for the pacification of Ireland by the numbers…and it’s ugly.”

Atty automatically made tea. Making tea in hideaways
was a way of life returned. Once she could follow Long Dan Sweeney by his trail of dirty teacups.

“I have to know, Atty, if this decision comes from you and Theo alone or if it has the approval of the Brotherhood.”

“I have been able to contact eight people, the highest-ranking survivors of the Rising, and the ones who will most likely make up at least part of the Supreme Council. It is as official as I can get.”

“How did you put the proposition to them?”

“I didn’t name Brodhead. I said we’ve a fair whack at an important British official. Yea or nay. The vote was ten to nothing, including Theo and myself.”

“Caroline came to the Merrion Square townhouse last night, saw me for a few hours, and returned to Belfast after midnight. We went over it hard to make certain she was making the right decision. She’s a contained woman, much like yourself, but, as the reality of Brodhead gets closer, the rage is unlike anything I’ve ever known before.”

Rory paced, so much like Conor, clarifying his thoughts.

“From the moment of the Gallipoli Commission of Inquiry when she knew Brodhead was lying, she began to set out her snares. When he came to call on her after Gallipoli, she held him blameless, which took a bit of doing. Bit by bit she’s been putting…shall I say
delicious
moves on him. The stars are lined up right. She’s been a long-standing fantasy of his. His own marriage is a shipwreck.”

“I can’t believe that Brodhead isn’t suspicious.”

“Why? His past experience with women shows him using Asian girls as concubines, mistresses, or whores, sort of par for the course out in the colonies. I don’t think he has any respect for women, thinks of them as inferiors, the same way he looks down on the Irish. Caroline would be the ultimate score of his life, his Holy Grail.”

“You’re talking from both sides of your mouth, Rory.”

“Women have been trained objects. He is vain beyond vain. Enough for him to believe he is some kind of magnificent dashing figure. Caroline, on the other hand, is the
unattainable woman. He’s now vain enough to think he can win her. What I’m trying to say is that, in actual fact, he’s navve about women, but he’s never been in the ring with anyone even close to Caroline.”

“And you think he’ll rendezvous with her, unguarded?”

“He has to. If they’re seen together by so much as a grocery store clerk or a maid or any of his own guards…his career goes up in smoke. So, if he is suspicious he simply won’t show up. If he does show up, it will be by himself. Moreover, we can watch to see if he has been followed.”

“Aye, aye, aye,” Atty said. “Where do they meet?”

“An abandoned hunting lodge in the hills, deep in the Earldom. Years ago she changed it from a hunting lodge to her personal hideaway and studio.”

Atty stiffened, realizing that Caroline had lured Conor there years before. Her cheeks reddened. Caroline had turned it into an exotic little playground…only for her husband and herself, Atty hoped.

“What about the gamekeeper?” she asked.

“She retired him a month ago. He and his wife are on an extended trip to America. I think she retired them the minute Brodhead lied to the Commission of Inquiry. Caroline has been planning this for a long time.”

“Go on.”

“Time is yet to be arranged. She gets there first and gets the fire going, carries an envelope of happy powder, lots of booze. Brodhead doesn’t hold whiskey too well, he’d never make an Aussie.”

“Or an Irishman.”

“She’s opting for a three-night party.”

“If she plays around, he’s going to get suspicious in a hurry.”

“Atty, Caroline is going to romance him, take him to bed and make love to him and gain his confidence. Having completely relaxed him, she’ll pick the right time.”

“She will be the shooter?” Atty asked.

Rory nodded. “She’s going to be the shooter.”

Atty was struck by Caroline’s daring and her sacrifice. “I’m deeply moved, Rory. The fact that she’s willing to go to bed with that bastard.”

“So am I,” Rory said. “She’s going to have him so tired, he won’t have enough strength to spit.”

“Well now, that’s quite a woman,” Atty said. “What about the weapon?”

“She’s going to use a little double-barreled Italian Lenetti. Three inches long, fits long, fits in the palm of the hand. It holds two 44-caliber slugs with soft lead noses. We tested the pistol in her basement. At close range it could blow a hole in a cruiser.”

“Backup weapon?” Atty asked.

“Kitchen knife.”

“What about tire tracks?”

“Too much rain.”

Atty became a little queasy but used her acting skills to display a professional manner. “We’ve a dead general,” she went on, “in a remote hunting lodge and I hope no one in Ireland on his side has a clue where he went. Now what?”

“Caroline leaves the lodge, ties a ribbon on the gate to signal that the deed has been done. She returns to Hubble Manor in her car. Two of our lads, who have been waiting in a duck blind about five hundred yards from the house, see the ribbon, come in, remove the body and clean the place up, then put him in the trunk of his car and drive fifty, a hundred miles south and give him a cement suit, either at the bottom of a dry well or a lake. Car goes in the lake.”

“Charming,” Atty said. “What can go wrong?”

“Just about anything,” Rory answered.

“And you’ll be long out of Ireland, in England or Scotland.”

“That’s the idea,” he said. “The plan is rough now, but you start hanging out at the Abbey Theatre. She attends every new play. Good contact point. The two of you are going to have to keep refining things.”

“I am terrified that I’m going to end up liking her,” Atty said.

“It’s not hard to do…. Sorry, I meant nothing nasty,” Rory said.

“Well, I am happy you’ll be out of Ireland.”

“Aye,” he whispered, “so you’ll not have me to contend with anymore?”

He had deliberately pushed the button.

“That’s right,” she said angrily.

“But when I’m gone, Atty, let me say you’re going to be sorry as hell.”

“You know, you’re a real bastard. You know I’m afraid of you.”

“Yeah, you’re scared as hell you’d find me flying you to the moon.”

“That’s right,” she said.

“So, have it your way,” he said sliding the roof open.

“You’d love it my way, sonny boy,” she retorted.

“And you mine, darlin’.”

“I’ll go up the ladder first so you won’t have to worry about me looking up your leg.”

“You know I’m in torment, Rory! What the hell are you trying to do to me! You’re out of bounds!”

“Are you all that innocent, Atty? I know when I’m being worked.” He set the ladder into place.

“Good luck, now,” she gasped.

As he looked at her she backed away. “Do you want me to come to you, or not?” he demanded.

Atty was stopped by the wall, teary-eyed, wild-eyed. She was desperate for him! She wanted him to go!

“All right,” Atty cried, ripping the top of her blouse open then pulling her straps and freeing her breasts. “You want to see them. Here, have a look, Rory boy. Come on, lad! Feel them! Put them in your mouth. I’ll lie down for you!”

“God Almighty!” Rory cried. “What am I doing! Oh God, God, God, I’m so ashamed.” He plunged to his knees with his face in his hands in an eruption of self-hatred. “I’m not
fit to live…” He pawed out with his good hand, keeping his face turned from her. “Please, cover yourself. Please, try to forgive me.”

The river that had backed up against the dam now burst uncontrolled. He groveled and cursed himself. Rory felt something on his head. It was Atty’s fingers softly running through his hair. “Can you hear me, Rory?”

“I’m so ashamed. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“Listen to me, Rory. We’ve been on a mad ride since the moment we laid eyes on each other. I was trying to recreate a moment of something dead and gone. And you, insanely, wanted something that belonged to Conor.”

“Yes,” he sobbed.

“You’ll find love again and I’ll find the comfort of a good man, but it can’t be with each other.”

“I know…I know…I’m so ashamed.”

“Of what?”

“Of deliberately tormenting you. This lust was devouring me, Atty. Even when I first loved Georgia, I was a wild colonial boy looking for sport. Georgia and I found real love that grew by itself over time. But you, Atty Fitzpatrick! Bells, cannons went off, madness engulfed me. You’re right, I wanted Conor Larkin’s woman. I wanted to feel once what Conor felt. I’ve worshiped him. In death his power brought me halfway around the world. But can’t you see, living under the shade of this enormous tree, I wanted to be as tall as himself for only a minute…and ended up covering myself with disgust.”

“You’re very much forgiven. And the truth is that you are very much like Conor.”

“Atty! Why doesn’t he let go of us!”

“Ah, don’t you know? It isn’t Conor afraid of letting us go. It’s always been us, afraid of letting
him go
.”