Death in the Burren (17 page)

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Authors: John Kinsella

BOOK: Death in the Burren
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He shivered and groaned in the lashing rain as the young man fumbled with the door. Eventually it swung open and they went inside, grateful to be away from the torment of the elements.

The contrast was quite remarkable. Once the door had closed and the wind and rain had been shut out they found themselves in an atmosphere of peace and quietness.

Standing at the end of a passageway which stretched away into the hillside McAllister saw that it was lit dimly, but adequately, by electric lights fixed into the rock.

They shook themselves and stamped their feet in a vain attempt to shed some of the rainwater which had soaked into their clothes.

“This is actually an exit,” the young man explained. “The whole passageway that you are looking into was blasted out of the limestone a couple of years ago. It means that visitors can now make a circular tour.”

“Yes, I remember hearing about this, although I haven’t done the tour for many years now.”

“As you know the Aillwee Cave proper began forming about a million years ago but this man made section was only opened recently.”

McAllister smiled as he noticed his companion slip into his guided tour script.

“How long is this section, and where does it join the cave proper?” He asked.

“This section is well over two hundred metres long and joins the old cave a short distance after the “Waterfall”.

McAllister thought for a while. “So,” he said eventually, “if I go along this passageway and make my way back along the cave towards the main entrance I might be able to take them by surprise.”

“That is if you want to do anything as brave as that.”

“Oh, I know,” McAllister agreed, “I may have second thoughts, but it might be worth a try. I won’t involve you, however, but you might come part of the way with me in case I go astray.”

“Alright, I’ll go with you as far as the “Waterfall”, just to make sure you negotiate the turn back to the main entrance properly, and then you’re on your own. You can’t go wrong, but the “Waterfall” itself might be running a bit full and I’ll see you over the walkway. Sometimes we cancel tours when it has been raining a lot because the water gushes out very strongly at that point. It should be alright, though.”

“That sounds great,” McAllister thanked his guide, “and what you could do then is to make sure the Gardaí know, as soon as possible, what’s happening.”

They set off down the tunnel. McAllister could see that the walls and the overhead surface had been freshly cut. It would be a very long time, if ever, before they bore any resemblance to the Aillwee Cave proper. It was obviously a good commercial development to bring tourists through the cave and then exit this way instead of backtracking.

The walk was easy but McAllister was feeling the exhausting effects of his exertions and wondered if he was being ridiculous in following through with his plan to take O’Lochlen and Considine by surprise. It would be so simple to wait until the Gardaí inevitably arrived.

But the thought of how irrational O’Lochlen had become drove him on. The situation at the cave entrance was highly volatile and if anything happened to Patsy he would never forgive himself.

There must surely be some advantage in approaching O’Lochlen from the rear. Even if there was nothing he could do directly himself, he could, for instance, cause a distraction which might give a momentary advantage to the Gardaí if they were in confrontation with O’Lochlen and Considine.

They soon came to a short decline which then brought them in a left turn over a walkway to a T junction.

The young man turned left at the junction and this brought them to the “Waterfall”, which was just a few yards down the passage.

The water gushed from the roof of the cave at one side and fell to the rocks below. Lit by an upward pointing electric beam the effect was magical.

On the other side a bridge had been erected close in against the rising curve of the wall. This was on long metal stilts and a metal guard rail assisted passage past the flow of water.

As his companion had forecast there was an abundance of water after the heavy rain of the past few hours and the bridge could not be negotiated without catching some of it.

McAllister turned to the youth. “Well, this is the parting of the ways. Thanks for all your help, and please make sure the Gardaí know what’s going on.”

“No problem. Take care now.”

McAllister watched as his companion turned back, and soon felt very much alone. It was an eerie sensation standing there, at the end of the bridge, as the water sprayed out and splashed to the cave floor below.

The sound gave the waterfall a peculiar sense of urgency and purpose, and McAllister felt as if he was an irrelevant and unwelcome intruder into a dynamic, but very private, ritual of Nature. It was a strange experience and one that could become unnerving if he were to stand there much longer.

McAllister braced himself and made his way across the wet slippy floor of the bridge past the rushing water. He held on firmly to the hand rail, not wishing to chance a fall, and possibly a broken ankle. That would really put the lid on things.

Safely over, but a little wetter, he followed the route of the cave which took him in a 90° turn to the right and then similarly to the left.

McAllister then faced a long straight section which broadened out somewhat and led to a cavern with large stalactites which looked, for all the world, like a bunch of carrots hanging from the ceiling.

He had a vague memory of these being pointed out as a feature when he had last made a tour of the cave.

“I’m making good progress,” he told himself, “it shouldn’t be too far now.”

At this point, however, he simply had to pause for a rest. His legs were feeling like lead weights and his back muscles were paining him with the sharpness of a toothache.

McAllister sank to the cave floor and stretched out on the flagstones. He promised himself a minute or two of complete rest, and then he would have to press on.

As he lay there he tried to let his mind go blank in an attempt to harbour all his strength for whatever might lie ahead, and was almost too successful as he found himself drifting off to sleep.

Shaking himself awake McAllister crawled over to the side of the cave and, sitting upright with his back supported reasonably comfortably, continued his brief rest.

He sighed, breathed deeply and tried to relax again, while keeping his mind on the task ahead so that he would not drift off.

Then, some moments later, he dragged his tired body into action, steeling himself for the final effort.

McAllister froze, he was certain he had heard somebody approaching!

Instinctively he sensed danger, and, pressing himself close to the wall, listened intently.

As far as he could tell the sound was coming from quite some distance away. However, he guessed he could not be near the entrance hall, so there must be somebody in the cave between him and his goal!

The footsteps came inexorably nearer and McAllister could tell now, that it was more than one person. He could also make out the muffled sound of voices.

Then suddenly there was silence.

He waited, hardly daring to breath.

A long time passed. McAllister listened intently. But there wasn’t a sound. His brow furrowed as he tried to deduce what might lie ahead of him, but he was really at a loss this time.

Then he heard a voice again but it was very low, and impossible to make out what was being said. It was a man’s voice. He was certain of that.

More silence…………..

McAllister’s curiosity was getting the better of him and, as well as that, he was aware that he had no option but to press on and find out what was ahead of him.

That is if they did not come his way first!

He cautiously craned his neck but saw that there was a bend in the passageway ahead of him.

Perhaps if he made his way carefully there, he could see who it was.

Step by step McAllister approached the corner, took a deep breath and peered slowly around.

But all he saw was another curve in the cave wall a short distance away.

He groaned inwardly. There was nothing for it but to repeat the process.

This curve was quite gentle, and soon revealed a straight section of cave ahead.

McAllister was totally unprepared, though, for the sight which met his eyes.

Some ten metres away a metal guard rail jutted out from the right hand wall and went on to form part of a bridge, similar to that which he had traversed at the “Waterfall”. A spotlight illuminated the cave wall opposite the bridge and, highlighting the rows of straw stalactites suspended from the overhead rocks, revealed a scene of memorable natural beauty.

However, McAllister’s gaze was riveted, not by this timeless spectacle, but by what he saw at the section of guard rail nearest to him.

There, out of the direct beam of light, and consequently in half shadow, Patsy McBride lay, spread-eagled, alongside the rail, face down and turned away from him, her head towards the cave wall.

Sitting with his back propped up against the opposite wall was O’Lochlen, gun in hand. He was positioned so that he could not be taken unawares by anything Patsy could do, and, at the same time, he commanded the bridge in such a way that he could not be surprised from that direction either.

There was no sign of Considine. That was certainly unexpected.

McAllister took stock of the situation.

O’Lochlen and Patsy were just that bit too far away from him to use surprise in a sudden rush. He would never make it over that distance. On the other hand, if he was to take a risk on creeping towards O’Lochlen, and if he was lucky enough to cover half the distance undetected, he might have an odds on chance of grappling with him before he could use the gun. If he achieved that, then surely both Patsy and he could overpower O’Lochlen.

It was certainly a possibility, but the problem was to get near enough. He would need a very large slice of luck to approach O’Lochlen without making a sound in the almost total silence of the cave.

In fact, where he stood, around the gentle curve of the wall, he was almost afraid to breathe.

Then another thought struck him. If he could find a loose rock or large stone perhaps he could throw it beyond O’Lochlen, the noise would divert his attention in the other direction and then McAllister could make his rush.

As he was looking around for a suitable projectile he heard another sound, as if someone else was approaching from the far

side of the bridge.

Perhaps it was Considine, but no….

“Who is that?” O’Lochlen’s voice bellowed, and there was an undeniable note of hysteria in it.

McAllister peeped out and saw that O’Lochlen had jerked forward with the gun pointed over the bridge.

There was no response.

“Who is that, I said?” O’Lochlen screamed angrily. “Whoever you are show yourself or I’ll blow this woman’s brains out.”

“It’s alright. Take it easy. We won’t harm you.” An unseen voice called from down the cave.

“We. Who is we?” O’Lochlen screamed again, there was definite fear in his voice now.

Again there was silence.

“Did you hear me. Show yourself or I’ll kill her.” O’Lochlen had only one trump card in this situation and that was his hostage, Patsy.

“I’m going to count to three……..”

“It’s alright,” the voice said again, “this is Sergeant Casey from Lisdoonvarna. There’s no need for you to do anything like that, now. Just be careful with that gun.”

The voice was very calm, reassuring almost, and McAllister gave Sergeant Casey full marks for his approach.

“Casey, so it’s you. I might have known you would have shown up sooner or later. In fact I was hoping you, or some of your pals would.” O’Lochlen seemed to have relaxed a little.

“Why do you say that?”

“I want to get out of here fast, and you can organise it for me.”

“Sure, that will be no problem provided you don’t do any harm to Mrs. McBride there. I presume she’s alright………”

“Are you alright Mrs. McBride?” Casey called.

“I never felt better, Sergeant.” Patsy answered.

McAllister was pleased that Patsy had retained her sense of humour, but her voice had lost it’s usual commanding quality.

“Now, that’s enough of that.” O’Lochlen interrupted. “I want to get out of here as fast as possible and you’d better get the skids under you Casey, or so help me.”

There was a short pause and then, “Well, what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to clear out this place, and the whole hillside below. Then you can fly me in a helicopter onto the car park. I’ll take Mrs. McBride on a little trip and then let her go when it suits me.”

There was a longer pause.

“That’s a bit of a tall order, Andy.” Sergeant Casey tried to keep his voice as conversational and friendly as possible.

“Don’t mess with me, Casey,” O’Lochlen snapped. “Do it and do it fast or I’ll make this woman suffer in a way you could never imagine.”

“Now, now, Andy, there’s no need for that.”

“Casey, will you shut up! I don’t want any of your bullshit. Just shut your mouth and do as I told you.” O’Lochlen’s anger was rising.

“Alright, alright, I’ll see to it, but you’ll have to give me a little time. Helicopters don’t grow on trees you know.”

“In the meantime you can send one of those kids up from the coffee shop with something for me.”

“Certainly, Andy. We’ll do that for you, straight away.”

“One of the kids, mind you, and no one else. Don’t try any cheap tricks.”

“Leave it to me, Andy. That will be no problem.”

McAllister could hear a quiet conversation, and then retreating footsteps, from down the cave.

Quietness descended again and McAllister wondered what he should do. Perhaps he would get a chance to make a run at O’Lochlen when he was distracted with the food.

“Are you still there Casey?” O’Lochlen called out.

A short pause and then, “Yes, Andy I’m still here if you need me. What can I do for you now?”

“I just wanted to remind you not to try any smartalick tricks trying to come at me from behind. I know there is another way in here, but Considine has that barred and bolted now. So don’t try to force the issue that way or she’ll get it, as I told you.”

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