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Authors: Ken McClure

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

The Trojan Boy (41 page)

BOOK: The Trojan Boy
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The question is, how do we stop him?' said Avedissian.
'Kell must have left men at the house. They wouldn't all
go,’ said O'Neill.
'We'll check it out. Make sure we're not barking up the
wrong tree,' said Avedissian. He and O'Neill went back to
take a look at the house while Kathleen found somewhere
more suitable to park the car.
There was plenty of good ground cover up to about thirty
metres from the house itself, where the trees stopped at the
edge of a lawn. Avedissian and O'Neill crouched in the
bushes where they could see the front of the house. There
was no sign of anything being amiss. It seemed still and quiet.
After a few moments they heard a child cry out. It did not
sound like a baby, more like a child of ten or eleven with a
speech impediment. A deaf child perhaps. A woman moved
across in front of one of the windows; she was followed by a
man. O'Neill caught his breath and said, 'You were right.
He's one of Kell's men.'
Avedissian took little pleasure in being proved right for
time was weighing heavily against them. It was already after
mid-day and the chances of finding out where the party was
being held and getting there on time seemed remote, particu
larly if, as Bryant had said, it was not even being held in
Norfolk. Their one chance of finding out anything seemed to
lie within the house but that left them with the problem of
how two unarmed men, one with only one arm, could take
control of Trelford House. Avedissian suggested they find out
more about the
IRA
presence in the school and O'Neill
agreed. It was decided that O'Neill would remain hidden in
the bushes and signal to Avedissian when it was clear for him
to cross the front of the house.
Avedissian skirted through the shrubbery and emerged to look back for O'Neill's signal. A few seconds later O'Neill
stood up to wave him across with a gesture of his hand. Their
eyes only met for an instant but it was long enough for
Avedissian to realise where he had seen that gesture before. He sprinted into the shadow of the wall but his mind was on
other things. It had been O'Neill in the farmyard all those
years ago.
Avedissian worked his way along the wall, listening under
each window in turn. The front rooms seemed to be un
occupied. He started on the side, but it was not until he had
rounded the back corner of the house that he could hear
sounds coming from within. He managed to get a look
through one of the windows and saw that some fifteen to
twenty children were in a large back room being looked after
by three women wearing nurses' uniforms. Two men were
also present, one sat by the door with a gun in his lap, the
other paced up and down.
The nurses were obviously under strain but the children,
all badly handicapped, showed little sign of knowing what
was going on. Victims of cerebral palsy moved as if control
led by unseen strings, others seemed totally preoccupied by
what they were or were not doing. Some stared into space. Some stared at the floor.
Avedissian heard one of the nurses say loudly, as if
arguing with a guard, 'I will have to change him. He's soiled
himself!'
The nurse won the argument and wheeled out the boy,
who lolled in the chair as if his bones had been removed.
The sound of running water came from a room further
along the wall of the house and Avedissian realised that this
might be the chance he had been looking for. If he could
speak to that nurse before she returned then maybe she
could tell him what he needed to know.
He crept along the back wall till he was underneath the
window with the frosted panes; it was slightly open at the
foot. Avedissian put his hands on the bars that fronted the
window and tried to attract the woman's attention. She
seemed to be completely engrossed in what she was doing.
She spoke to the boy as she cleaned him up, keeping up a
trivial one-sided conversation but there was affection in her
voice and that was all that mattered.
'Pssstt'
Avedissian tried again during a brief lull in the
words and this time he was heard. The woman came to
kneel down by the gap. 'Have you come to rescue us?' she
asked excitedly, with a quick glance over her shoulder at
the bathroom door. 'You must stop them! You must stop the
minibus!'
'There's, not much time,' whispered Avedissian. 'Please
just answer my questions.'
The woman calmed down and nodded.
'Where is the" royal party being held?'
'Crookham House. It's in Leicestershire.'
'How many children have gone from here?'
'Twelve. They are in the school minibus.'
'How many men?'

Three, including the horrible little one in the pram.'
'Did they take any of the staff?'
'Two. Miss Sanders and Miss Crispin.'
'Help will be with you soon. I promise. Just keep calm and everything will be all right.'
Avedissian crawled along the base of the wall to the front
corner of the house and waited till O'Neill waved him
across. They crept back through the bushes together to the
gate and ran along the road to join Kathleen. 'A phone! We
must get to a phone!' said Avedissian. Kathleen, who was
still in the driving seat, drove off along the winding road at breakneck speed. She screeched to a halt outside a call box
and Avedissian, searching for coins in his pocket, dashed
out to make the call.
He called the number that Sarah Milek had given him and
shifted his feet impatiently while he waited for an answer.
Impatience became despair as he realised that there was not
going to be any answer. Sarah Milek wasn't there! As a last resort he made an anonymous call to the police and raised
the alarm about Trelford School, urging caution with a
warning that the
IRA
would be armed. Could the police get
a warning to the security people at the royal birthday party?
The police operator who took the call was obviously of
the opinion that he had a lunatic on the line and behaved
accordingly, at once trying to humour and calm Avedissian
and persuade him that he needed some kind of help. 'I'm
serious!' insisted Avedissian.
'Of course, sir,' said the patronising voice. 'Perhaps we
could start with your name and address . . .'
Avedissian slammed down the phone and rushed out to
the car. He looked at his watch and said, Three hours!
We've got three hours! It's just possible!'
Kathleen made to get out of the driving seat but
Avedissian told her to stay where she was. 'You're a better
driver,’ he said. 'Head east to Leicestershire!'
Avedissian and O'Neill searched through road maps in the
car for Crookham but had no success until they found it
listed in the National Trust book. They agreed on the best way to get to it when they came off the main road while
Kathleen concentrated on the immediate problem of getting
free of the winding Norfolk lanes that held them like a net.
Once on the main road they picked up speed but time was
still running against them. They passed a mileage indicator sign with depressingly high figures on it. Kathleen pressed
her foot harder to the floor but there was no place left for it
to go. Avedissian felt the knots tighten in his stomach.
After thirty minutes O'Neill passed the National Trust
book over to Avedissian saying, 'You'd better have this. You
can give Kathleen directions when the time comes.'
Avedissian took it and said to O'Neill, 'We’ve met
before.'
O'Neill looked at him strangely and waited for an ex
planation.
'We met in a farmyard once. I was wearing a uniform at
the time and there was a child between us.'
O'Neill stared at Avedissian. 'It was you?' he whispered.
Avedissian nodded and both of them relived the moment.
'I owe you my life,’ said Avedissian.
'It was worth saving,’ said O'Neill.
'What was that?' asked Kathleen above the noise of the
engine.
'Some other time,’ said Avedissian.
Roadworks outside Peterborough slowed their progress to
an agonising crawl for nearly three miles and even when
they had cleared them Kathleen was left with a long chain
of commercial traffic to leap-frog past before they could
make any real headway again. More than once blaring horns
and blazing headlights signalled displeasure as Kathleen
forced the issue. It was four p.m. when Avedissian said, ‘
Turn left at the next junction,’ and they were on the road for
Crookham.
FOURTEEN

 

 

They were back into country lanes and the resultant
drop in speed caused an almost unbearable increase in
tension in the car. 'The royals must be there by now,’ said
Kathleen anxiously.
'Just keep going,’ said Avedissian.
'Which way?' demanded Kathleen as they came to a road
junction.
'Right,’ replied Avedissian.
'How much further?'
'Not much. Take the next turning on the left. Crookham
should be at the foot of. . .'
The direction became irrelevant as Kathleen turned left
and came upon a police vehicle parked broadside in the road. A white-sleeved officer waved them to a standstill while two
colleagues, both armed, looked on.
'This road is closed, madam,’ said one of the policemen, leaning on the roof of the car to speak to Kathleen through the open driver's window. Although it was Kathleen he was
addressing, his eyes took in Avedissian and O'Neill at the
same time. 'Where were you making for?'
'Crookham,’ said Avedissian. 'We have to contact security!
It's a matter of life and death!'
The policeman looked uneasy and signalled to his col
leagues to join him. 'I think you'd all better get out of the car,’
he said, taking one step back.
Avedissian got out first, saying, 'Contact Mr Bryant, it's
urgent!'
'There's not a moment to lose!' pleaded Kathleen.
'You're Irish,’ said one of the armed policemen, hearing Kathleen's accent and taking out his revolver. 'Stand away from the car!'
'For God's sake!' exclaimed Avedissian. 'There's going to
be a hit on the royals. Get Bryant! Warn him!'
The three policemen looked uneasily at each other. 'Who
are you?' one demanded.
There's no time for all that! Call Bryant on your radio! Tell
him that Avedissian says that Kell is already inside!'
Avedissian's persistence paid off. One of the policemen clutched his handset nervously and said, 'Urgent message for
Mr Bryant!'
A Land-Rover screamed up the road in low gear and stopped
at the barrier. Bryant jumped out of the passenger seat with his radio in his left hand and the jacket of his suit flapping
open to reveal a shoulder holster. The policemen stiffened as
he ran towards them but he ignored them and came straight up to Avedissian. 'Well, Doctor? What's this about Kell?'
BOOK: The Trojan Boy
10.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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