Long Time Coming (25 page)

‘Close that, would you?’ he said in a gruff voice.

Swan eased the door shut behind him. ‘Lorcan Henchy?’

‘The very same. You’re Swan, I take it?’

‘I am.’

‘Have a seat, why don’t you?’

Swan sat down and played for time by lighting a cigarette. ‘I got your message.’

‘And you came to meet me. I’m obliged to you, sir.’

‘This is only a short step from the Shelbourne. You’re not putting me to any great inconvenience.’

‘No, indeed.’

‘How did you know where to find me?’

‘Oh, I got your name and hotel from a fellow at Mrs Kilfeather’s agent’s who owed me a favour. I was a little surprised, of course, upon enquiring, to learn you were still staying there, when you have the use of my cosy old flat just around the corner. But no doubt there’s a perfectly simple explanation for that.’

‘Why should it concern you, Mr Henchy?’

‘And why should you consent to be summoned here by a complete stranger? Good questions both, Mr Swan. Shall we take turns at answering them?’ He took a swig of Guinness.

‘I asked first.’

‘So you did. Very well, then. It concerns me because I never wanted to move out and it’s doubly galling, having been prevailed upon to do so, to find my successor so tardy at taking up residence. I’ve been keeping an eye on the old place, you see, and having words in appropriate ears. You are an absentee tenant, Mr Swan. A terribly well-spoken one, of course, as befits an … elocutionist, is it? Your fees must be formidable if you can run to a suite at the Shelbourne and rooms in Merrion Street for which you evidently have no pressing need.’

Swan’s instincts were divided. He was minded to stand up and walk out without another word. He did not care to be cross-questioned by a man like Henchy, especially when the cross-questioning was so well reasoned. But the temptation to stay was stronger. He backed himself to learn more from their exchanges than Henchy was likely to. ‘My affairs are my own, Mr Henchy. I don’t like people prying into them.’

‘On that principle we’re agreed. I don’t like having to do it myself.’

‘Then why are you?’

‘Because we must all shift for ourselves in the current … emergency.’ He grinned knowingly.

‘What did you mean by being prevailed upon to move out?’

‘Do you not know what I meant?’

‘I wouldn’t ask if I did.’

‘That’s not necessarily so. I find more and more people I encounter these days feign ignorance – or knowledge – of a great many issues.’

‘I see you have your paper open at the crossword page. And you appear to have solved most of the clues. You obviously enjoy puzzles. I confess I don’t. They bore me. So, if you’ll excuse me …’ Swan started up from his chair.

‘Bear with me a moment longer, sir.’ Henchy raised his hands appeasingly. ‘I crave your indulgence.’

Swan stood still for a few theatrical seconds of deliberation, then sat down again. ‘A moment, then.’

‘Thank you. I’m obliged. I’ll take you at your word, Mr Swan. I’ll assume you really are unaware of the circumstances of my sudden departure from thirty-one Merrion Street. Well, this was the way of it. I had my arm twisted, actually as well as metaphorically, in point of fact. I was persuaded that my health would benefit from a move. Likewise my bank account. For the latter I’m naturally grateful. As, incidentally, are the bookmakers of Leopardstown.’

‘I don’t understand, Mr Henchy. Who persuaded you?’

‘They didn’t favour me with their visiting cards. All I can say is that they were … fellow countrymen of yours.’

‘You’re saying they were English?’

‘Either that or first-class impressionists.’

‘Why would they want you out of your flat?’

‘A question I’ve pondered long and hard.’

‘With what result?’

‘I believe I have the answer. And I’m doing you the honour of supposing that you don’t. I hardly think you’d have put your name to this enterprise if you understood its real purpose. That would be … foolhardy in the extreme. No, no. You’ve been talked into this, I have no doubt. You’ve been presented with some … innocent explanation … by a friend of yours at the British Legation,
perhaps. Or perhaps, like me, you’ve been … bought off, if you’ll pardon the phrase. The particulars hardly matter. The point to be grasped, Mr Swan, is that you’ve been deceived.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Perhaps not. But you will, when you reflect on our discussion.’ That, Swan was beginning to suspect, might well be true. There was something horribly credible about what Henchy was saying.

‘So, you want to warn me I’ve been misled in some way, do you?’

‘I fear you overestimate my generosity of spirit. No. What I want is to recruit you as a means of communication with those who are behind this: your friends, or friends of friends, at the British Legation. I want them to understand that my price has risen dramatically now that I’ve seen through their scheme. By a factor of ten, to be precise. A thousand pounds, by Friday. Those are my … revised terms.’ He grinned disarmingly.

‘You’re crazy.’ And Swan genuinely hoped he was.

‘Not crazy, sir, though I’ll own to desperate. Take a look at this.’ Henchy pulled his wallet from his pocket and slipped something out of it, which he held out for Swan to see.

It was a head-and-shoulders snapshot of a young curly-haired girl. She was standing in front of a cottage doorway, smiling prettily, her head cocked shyly to one side.

‘My daughter Moira. I left fatherhood late and still managed to make a poor fist of it. She lives with her mother down in Cork. Suffice to say I’ve been an even worse husband than I have a father. But redemption presents itself in the strangest of guises. Moira’s a bright girl. There’s something about her that needs … bringing on. I want her to have a good education. She might make more of it than I have. She could hardly make less. This is my best and very possibly only chance of doing right by her. You understand, Mr Swan? Perhaps you have children of your own.’

‘I’ve no children.’

‘Then you’ll have to take my word for the way they tug at your heart.’

‘I’m sure it’s laudable you should want to help her.’

‘So you’ll … convey my terms?’

Swan was caught now on the horns of a dilemma. If he agreed, he implicitly admitted that Henchy’s reading of his situation was correct. If he refused, he would be left wondering whether Linley had lied to him, with no pretext for challenging him on the point. ‘Why don’t you just go to the legation and convey them yourself ?’

‘Because once I’d walked in and said my piece, I might never walk out again.’

‘This is all nonsense.’

‘Is it? Are you sure of that, sir? There’s an easy way for you to find out.’

‘By acting as your messenger-boy?’

‘If you wish to call it that. I think your friends might thank you for carrying this particular message. I know what their game is. And they wouldn’t want me hawking that information on the open market.’

‘And what, in your contention, is their … game?’

Henchy sat back in his chair, folded his arms and regarded Swan levelly. ‘If you don’t know, I’d—’ The snug door suddenly opened. Henchy glanced up scowlingly at the newcomer, who promptly withdrew, closing the door behind him. ‘I’d be doing you no kindness to tell you,’ Henchy resumed. ‘And it’s hardly to be spoken of in such surroundings.’

‘Supposing you were … persuaded … to leave your flat by … what should I call them, British agents? … how would they know you weren’t bluffing when you claim to have deduced what their … sinister motive … was?’

‘A reasonable question. Give them this name.’ Henchy unfolded his newspaper and turned to another page, which he slid round for Swan to see, tapping with his forefinger at the side-column headline
Garda search for Heider continues
.

‘Heider? The German spy?’

‘That’s certainly what the
Irish Times
calls him. A German spy. And if you believe everything you read in the papers, I suppose that’s what he must be.’

‘What are you getting at?’

‘The truth. As they’ll understand when you mention Heider. I’m
not bluffing. I want my thousand pounds. I think they’ll agree it’s a fair price. I’ll collect it from you. No one else.’

‘Now, hold on just a—’

‘You have more to lose than anyone if this gets out, Mr Swan. I’m actually doing you a favour. But I’m prepared to pay you a ten per cent handling fee nevertheless, in recognition of the inconvenience you’ll be put to. It’s generous of me in the circumstances. But as those who know me will tell you, I am a generous man.’

A hundred pounds. Wherever Swan turned, people seemed determined to offer him money. And he often had to do surprisingly little to earn it. ‘Very well. I make no guarantees, Mr Henchy. But, as it happens, I do know someone at the British Legation. I’ll tell him what you’ve said.’

‘Thank you. I’ll telephone you at the Shelbourne at seven o’clock tomorrow evening for news of his response.’

‘Since you know where I’m staying, perhaps I should know where you’re to be found.’

‘I think not. Just be in your room at the Shelbourne when I call.’ He pulled out his watch and peered at it. ‘Well, well. Is that the time? I must be on my way.’ He took a deep swallow of Guinness and stood up, wedging his tightly rolled
Irish Times
in his jacket pocket. ‘It’s been a pleasure, Mr Swan. I predict we’ll soon be glad we met like this, two gentlemen thrown together in a world we barely comprehend but whose rules we must abide by whether we like it or not. Yes indeed. I’m sure of it. A happy outcome and an early one. That’ll suit the pair of us, I’m thinking.’ He smiled and offered Swan his hand, as if an eminently satisfactory business arrangement had been concluded between them, which, as far as Swan could tell, it had been from Henchy’s point of view.

Swan reached up and shook his hand. ‘You should know I don’t necessarily believe a single word you’ve said to me, Mr Henchy.’

‘Oh, I’m well aware of that. But your scepticism won’t last long, I can assure you.’ He moved past Swan to the section of the bar serving the snug and called to the barman. ‘Another whiskey for my friend here when he wants one, Jim.’ There was a jingle of coin on
wood. ‘And whatever you’re having yourself.’ Then he clapped Swan on the shoulder and lumbered out.

Swan drained his glass, stood up and stepped across to the bar to claim his refill. He was sure of very little at that moment. But his need of another whiskey was definite.

Miles Linley arrived at O’Connor’s Bar less than an hour after Swan’s telephone call had interrupted supper at his lodgings in Donnybrook. He entered the snug, which Swan had had to himself since Henchy’s departure, with the flustered air and evasive expression of a man uncertain just how serious the problem was that confronted him. But his uncertainty was not destined to be prolonged.

‘What’s this all about, Cygnet?’ he asked with forced joviality. ‘You sounded a touch overwrought on the blower.’

‘Do you know Lorcan Henchy, Linley?’

‘Never heard of him.’

‘He’s the previous tenant of the flat I’m renting for you.’

‘Really? Well, no reason I should have, then.’

‘He was here earlier.’

‘Was he? What of it?’

‘He reckons I’ve been duped.’

‘Duped? What are you on about?’

‘It’s simple enough. Deceived. Lied to. Taken for a ride. By you.’

‘This is preposterous. I don’t know what nonsense this fellow’s been feeding you, but—’

‘Save it. Just tell me, here and now, to my face: is it true Henchy was bribed and threatened into moving out?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Only he claims he was, you see. And he also claims he’s found
out why, which somehow I don’t think has anything to do with you and Celia. Because that grubby little secret wouldn’t be worth a thousand pounds, now would it?’

‘A thousand pounds?’

‘The price of Henchy’s silence.’

‘The fellow’s mad.’

‘Mad or not, he wants an answer within twenty-four hours.’

‘Look, there must have been some—’

‘Misunderstanding? I should say. But before you utter any more denials you might later regret, consider this. Henchy proposes to deal with you through me. He won’t negotiate with you direct. And he seems confident you don’t know where he’s been living since he left Merrion Street. So, either you tell me the truth or you dare him to do his worst. You’ll be a better judge than I am of whether you can afford to do that. To help you assess the risk, I’d better give you a name he asked me to mention.’ Swan lowered his voice. ‘Heider.’

Linley sighed and rubbed his eyes. ‘Damn it all to hell,’ he murmured.

‘Is that an admission you’ve been lying to me?’

‘No. I …’ Linley turned away, as if unable to face Swan. ‘Yes. But I had to. It was a matter of …’

‘A matter of what?’

Linley polished off the remainder of his whiskey in a single swallow. ‘We can’t talk here. I can explain everything. But …’ He managed to look back at Swan. ‘We’d better step outside.’

‘I’m sorry, Cygnet,’ Linley began, as he led the way towards St Stephen’s Green. ‘It’s true. I’m not having an affair with Celia. I needed someone unconnected with the legation to rent the flat and you providentially presented yourself as a candidate, so I … spun you a yarn I thought you’d fall for. No harm would have been done if Henchy hadn’t crawled back out of the woodwork. You wouldn’t have suffered by the deception. It was … a white lie.’

‘So you were trying to spare my feelings in some way, were you?’

‘Not exactly. It’s, er … a delicate business.’

‘How delicate?’

‘Very. Sensitive, perhaps I should say. It’s a matter of … national security. And naturally … I’m not referring to the nation we find ourselves in at the moment.’

Reaching the corner of St Stephen’s Green, they crossed over to the entrance to the park. The keeper was locking the gate in preparation for closure, so they headed south along the pavement, next to the railings. The light still held and the air was warm. Their voices were hushed in the silence of the summer evening. Swan was holding his anger in check, awaiting the moment when he would know whether the lies Linley had told him could in any way be justified.