The Trojan Boy (36 page)

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Authors: Ken McClure

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Medical, #Suspense, #Thrillers

BOOK: The Trojan Boy
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Kathleen ordered and paid for the drinks. It made
Avedissian feel uncomfortable but no one seemed to see anything unusual in it. They sat down on a bench seat and sipped
Guinness. 'Do you see anyone?' Avedissian whispered.
'No.'
A few minutes later a small man in a dark, ill-fitting suit
emerged from the gents' toilets. He had a cigarette in his
mouth with nearly an inch of ash clinging to the end but still
managed to cough without disturbing it. Avedissian felt Kathleen stiffen beside him. She whispered, ‘That's Connell
Murphy. He can get a message to Kell.' She got up and went
to the bar, indicating with her hand that Avedissian should
stay seated.
Avedissian watched Kathleen engage the man in con
versation but was too far away to hear what was being said.
He saw Murphy nod two or three times and then say something to the barman in response to something Kathleen had
said. A whiskey was put down in front of him and Kathleen
paid. The man downed it in one gulp and left the bar.
Kathleen came back and sat down. She started to say some
thing but had to pause for a loud bell that heralded closing
time. Auxiliary shouts of ‘Time' broke out before she could
try again so they got up and left. 'I've asked him to tell Kell
that I will be here tomorrow lunchtime,' said Kathleen as
they returned to the car.
It was agreed that Kathleen would go alone to the Blind
Horse to negotiate the exchange. Avedissian did not like the
notion but conceded that it made sense. Kell could not risk
harming her while he held the key to the money. But, even
with that seemingly undeniable thought to comfort them,
neither could sleep that night and morning came as a relief.
The sound of milk and papers being delivered provided a
welcome distraction from the fear inspired by thoughts of
Kell. They spent the morning rehearsing what Kathleen
should say in outlining conditions for the hand-over of the tapes. At eleven-thirty she left for the rendezvous.
Avedissian watched the progress of every minute on the
clock. He calculated that Kathleen should be back by twelve-
forty, having taken an agreed detour to ensure that she was not being followed. They would then move to another boarding-house and make final plans for their escape from
Ireland, based on the information that Kathleen returned
with.
Twelve-forty came and went as did one o'clock and one-
fifteen, then there was a slight knock on the door.
Avedissian snatched it open and found their landlady
standing there. 'You did say that you were leaving
today . . . Mr Farmer?'
'My apologies, Mrs Pagan. My wife had to go out and find
a dentist this morning. She has terrible toothache. She
should be back shortly and then we'll be on our way.'
'Just as long as I know, Mr Farmer
...
I really should be
charging you for an extra day you know
Avedissian closed the door on the woman and checked
the time again. Where was she? What had happened?
At one-forty-five the little tap came to the door again.
Avedissian, his nerves strained to breaking point, cursed under his breath and took some money from his wallet to
stuff into the woman's hand.
'Are you still there, Mr Farmer?' asked the voice, making
Avedissian mutter again as he went to open the door. 'Here
you are Mrs . . .' he had started to say when he saw the
woman swept aside and the muzzle of a gun was whipped
across his face. He staggered backwards and fell to the floor,
an easy target for the boots that came thudding into him. He
was dimly aware of being dragged out of the house and
bundled into a car, but the lapses into unconsciousness
were too frequent for him to plot any chain of events after
that.
When he did come round he was lying on a stone floor in
semi-darkness and had a raging thirst. He lay still for a moment, wondering whether or not he had any broken ribs
but they seemed to be intact when he tried breathing a little
deeper. He moved his jaw from side to side. It wasn't
broken. Gritting his teeth, he tried to get up, letting out an
involuntary groan at the stiffness in his neck through lying in
the one position for God knew how long.
A metal slit was hammered back in the door and eyes peered in. The slit closed and a few moments later bolts
rattled and the door was flung open to allow a man holding a
gun to enter. He motioned with the muzzle and said, 'Out,
you bastard.' Avedissian was prodded and poked all the way
along a corridor and then told to wait while another door was
unlocked. He was thrown inside and the door closed behind
him.
Avedissian was no longer alone. There were two other people in the room and one of them was Kathleen, her face stained with tears and racked with pain. 'Oh, my love,' he
exclaimed in anguish as he crawled towards her, 'What have
they done to you?'
Kell burned her till she told him where you were,' said the
other person in the room, a thin, haggard-looking man with
only one arm. 'I'm Kathleen's brother.'
Despite the poor lighting in the cellar Avedissian could see
the marks left by cigarette burns on Kathleen's exposed
breasts.
'I told them
...
I told them . . .' she murmured. 'I let you
down
..."
'Don't, don't say that,' whispered Avedissian. He was
thinking of the length of time he had waited at the
boarding-house and what Kathleen must have been going through. He closed his eyes and put his cheek against her
hair. 'What happened?' he asked.

They didn't even talk,’ said Kathleen. 'As soon as I got to the Blind Horse, Kell's men put me in a car and brought me
here. All they wanted to know was where you were . . . and
I told them.' More tears began to flow and Avedissian tried to
comfort her.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop as a
persistent squeaking sound reached them. Avedissian looked
at O'Neill and asked, 'Kell?' O'Neill nodded and the sound
grew louder. Avedissian could feel Kathleen's body stiffen in
fear.
The door opened and Nelligan, Kell's minder, manoeuvred
the pram expertly inside. He turned it round on its back wheels alone so that Kell now faced the three of them.
Nelligan stood behind like a rock with a gun.
'Well, well, well,' said Kell with syncopated precision. 'Isn't this nice.'
Avedissian felt a new kind of fear grow within him, for the
monster in the pram seemed to radiate evil and malice. He
found himself mesmerised by the huge eyes behind the
glasses and the pale, hairless face.
'Now then,' said Kell with a smile that seared Avedissian
like a soldering-iron. 'I want my money.'
'You would have got the tapes. What the hell did you have to do this for?' said Avedissian with much more bravery than he felt.
Kell fixed him with a long stare and said, 'I said money, not
tapes.'
Avedissian stayed silent but felt his position crumble as
Kell resumed his stare.
'When news of Miss O'Neill's generous offer reached me
last night I thought it was about time to re-establish contact with our American friends and commiserate with them over
a British trick that had fooled both of us. They told me that
things were even worse than I thought. The British bastards had actually managed to get their hands on the money when
they had thought it safe for the time being. But, of course,
you and I both know that it wasn't the British who got the money; don't we
...
Doctor?'
Avedissian swallowed hard and said hoarsely, 'All right,
Kell. I've got the money. Let us go and you can have it.'
The smile vanished from Kell's face and was replaced with
venomous anger. 'I can have it, can I?' he whispered. 'How
kind.'
Avedissian was trying desperately to appear calm for he
found Kell's anger almost tangible in the confines of the cell.
He would never have believed that anyone could unnerve
him so much.
'Where is it?' rasped Kell.
'It's in a bank,’ said Avedissian.

Then we must get it out of the bank,’ said Kell with a
wide-eyed stare.
'Like I said, you let us go and I'll give you the money,’ said
Avedissian.
Kell shook his head slowly and said, 'You just don't under
stand, do you? There is no bargain to be made. You will
transfer the money unconditionally.'
'Do you think I'm mad, Kell?' snorted Avedissian.
'No, I think you're dead,’ replied Kell with a chilling
finality. 'You are all dead,’ he added. 'The only question to be
decided is how much pain you go through before I permit you to die."
'Then I've got nothing to lose by refusing to transfer the money,’ said Avedissian with cold sweat running down his
back.
'Tell me that when Nelligan is cutting bits off the O'Neill
bitch and feeding them to the dogs,’ said Kell.
'All right, Kell, you win,’ whispered Avedissian.
'Of course I do, Doctor,’ said Kell, the smile returning. 'In
the end, I always do. But there's no hurry. Enjoy my
hospitality until Nelligan and I get back from proving that fact
to Bryant.’
'What do you mean?' asked O'Neill.
Kell adopted a patronising sneer and said softly, 'C'mon,
Martin, you with your university education an' all.’ He
turned to Kathleen and said, 'And you too, school-teacher.
Knowing what Bryant had set up for us, what would you say
would be the last thing on earth that he would expect us to be
planning in the circumstances? . . . No?
...
All that
education and no ideas?' The smile faded and Kell hissed, ‘I’ll
show that bastard who's boss. I'll make him rue the day he
ever crossed the path of Finbarr Kell.' He turned to Nelligan
and said, 'We have work to do. It's going to be quite like old
times, eh?'
Nelligan agreed, basking in the recognition of his master
like a Labrador dog. He wheeled Kell out of the room and the
door was clanged shut. Those left in the room listened in
silence until the squeaking of the pram wheels had faded away then Kathleen said, 'So we are all going to die.'
'We're not dead yet,’ said Avedissian, but failed to convince even himself that they had a future. 'I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen him for myself,’ he added.
O'Neill knew what he was thinking and said, 'From what
Kathleen tells me, Bryant isn't much better.'
'What did he mean by saying it was going to be like old times?' Avedissian asked.

I’m not sure,’ admitted O'Neill. 'But Kell and Nelligan
used to work together in the old days before Kell was
crippled.’
Kathleen was holding herself in pain and Avedissian
suffered the agony of knowing that there was little he could
do to help in the circumstances but try to comfort her
verbally, something he could do with little conviction.
They were left alone with their thoughts and fears until
their guard, a particularly sullen and uncommunicative individual, brought in some brown bread and a jug of water. He
refused all requests for a first-aid kit or any kind of
medication for Kathleen's burns. 'You get what I'm told to
give you,’ he snarled. 'Nothing else.’

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