Toilet arrangements in their cell comprised a single rusty
can which, when combined with a total lack of ventilation in
the cellar, ensured that their world stank by early evening
when the guard changed. Avedissian feared that Kathleen's
burns must soon become infected in the squalor.
Their new guard brought in tea and bread rolls. O'Neill
knew the man: he was Liam Drummond, the driver who had
taken him to and from Cladeen after the amputation of his
arm, the man who had complained bitterly about Kell's earlier
behaviour. O'Neill said, 'So you were right about Kell.'
The man's face filled with fear and he whispered
hoarsely, ‘For God's sake, Mr O'Neill, keep your voice down! I'm doing my job. I don't want no trouble.'
O'Neill could see how scared the man really was. He
would have to proceed with great care if Drummond were
to be of any use to them at all and it might be that he was
their only chance. But Drummond still called him 'Mr'.
How much influence did he have left with the man? 'My
sister is hurt bad,’ said O'Neill. 'Kell burned her. She needs
medication. Can you get her some?'
'Be reasonable, Mr O'Neill,' pleaded Drummond. 'It's
more than my life is worth to cross Kell. You know that.'
'Kathleen will die if the burns become infected,’ said
O'Neill. 'She's in terrible pain.'
The plain truth, Mr O'Neill, is that you are all going to die
when the Bairn gets back,’ replied Drummond.
'Back from where?' asked O'Neill.
'England. He's gone operational.'
O'Neill looked incredulous but he could see that
Drummond was serious and fought an immediate urge to
ridicule the notion. 'On what operation?' he asked.
'I don't know, Mr O'Neill, honest to God I don't, but it's something big, something very big.'
'And Kell is doing it himself?'
'That's what they say. He and Nelligan are going to do it,
just like they used to,’ said Drummond.
'You said, "when Kell gets back". Does that mean he has
already gone?'
'An hour ago.'
'Then you can get us some first-aid stuff and Kell will never
know.'
Drummond looked uncertain.
O'Neill pushed a little harder. 'Go on, bring the boxes from
the sick room.'
'I'll see what I can do.'
'And for Christ's sake, change this can, will you?' added
O'Neill, nodding to their toilet.
Avedissian admired the way that O'Neill had handled the situation. The man obviously understood people and how to
manage them; that implied a degree of sensitivity that he was
relieved to find in O'Neill for he had had qualms about meeting
the brother that Kathleen cared so much about. In view of
O'Neill's past record he had feared that any kind of liking for
O'Neill might be completely out of the question. Now he was
not so sure and the strange thing was that there seemed to be
something familiar about him, something he could not put his
finger on.
Kathleen was now in too much pain to pretend otherwise and
sat huddled in the corner holding herself, rocking backwards
and forwards as if subconsciously trying to induce a trance to
escape her agony. Avedissian and O'Neill had stopped trying to comfort her for their efforts seemed to be doing more harm than good and only upset her more, O'Neill came over to Avedissian
by the door and whispered, 'If God would grant me one wish
before I died it would be to take that evil little bastard's life.'
'You and me both,’ said Avedissian.
O'Neill said quietly, 'I asked Drummond to bring the boxes
from the sick room. They're not just first-aid boxes. They have
all the stuff the doctor needs for when our boys get injured.
Take whatever you think might be useful, pills and the like, in
case the going should get too tough.'
Avedissian said that he would but did not want to dwell too
long on the prospects of group suicide.
Drummond returned with the medicine boxes and he was
sweating with fear. 'God, if Kell ever finds out,’ he muttered.
'He won't,’ O'Neill reassured him. 'Relax, man.'
Avedissian got to work sifting through the contents of the
boxes and was aware of O'Neill getting to work on
Drummond again; he was asking probing questions but
disguising them effectively as concern.
'So who do you have to worry about with Kell gone?
Who's left in the Long House anyway?'
'Just the Feeley brothers and me.’
'Just the four of you? Well, there you are then. Kell will
never ever know. Where have all the rest gone anyway?'
'England. All other operations have stopped for this one.’
Avedissian gave Kathleen a pain-killing injection before
cleaning her burns and applying antiseptic dressings. The
injection took almost immediate effect and a slight overdose
made her euphoric. She looked up at Drummond and said
with what sounded like a drunken giggle, 'Enjoying the
view?'
Drummond became embarrassed. 'Certainly not, Miss
O'Neill,’ he stammered, 'I'm just sorry that. . . well you
know . . .’ His voice trailed off.
'I appreciate your doing this, Liam,’ said O'Neill.
Drummond became even more embarrassed and looked
down at his feet before saying, 'You were always a gentle
man, Mr O'Neill. The lads always had respect for you.’
O'Neill hit Drummond hard on the back of the neck and
the man fell to the floor. O'Neill chopped him again to make
sure.
Avedissian had seen it coming. 'What now?' he asked.
O'Neill searched the unconscious man with his one hand
and then repeated the operation before saying, There's
poetic justice for you. He trusted me so much that he didn't
bring his gun with him this time. We've no gun and there's
three of them between us and the door.’
'Where will they be?' asked Avedissian.
'In the duty room at the end of the passage. We have to pass it to get to the stairs.’
'Couldn't we sneak past?' asked Avedissian.
'Not a chance. The door at the head of the stairs has an
electronic lock on it. It's controlled from inside the duty
room.’
'What about guns?'
‘
The armoury is kept locked. The key is in the duty room.’
Avedissian looked at the medical boxes which seemed to
be their only resource and asked after some thought, 'Do
they drink tea?'
'I suppose so. Why?'
'Where do they make it?'
'In the duty room. They have a stove.’
'Pity,’ said Avedissian.
O'Neill suddenly realised what Avedissian had been con
sidering and added, 'But they have to get the water from the
room across the way.’
‘
Then there's a chance,’ said Avedissian. 'If I can get this
lot. . .’ he held up a bottle of pills '. . . into their tea, we
can put them out for a week.’
O'Neill filled Avedissian in on the details of the room
layout in the passage and of the inside of the room where the
men would get water. He wanted to know exactly where the sink was and where the kettle would be, for he would not be
able to turn on the light.
'It should be OK,’ said O'Neill. 'People don't usually have
to turn the light on in that room anyway when they fill the
kettle. There's enough light from the corridor.’
Avedissian crushed up the number of pills he thought
would be necessary to achieve the desired effect and poured the powder into an empty pill box for the time being. 'I hope
to God they all take milk and sugar,’ he said as he prepared to move out into the corridor. He checked on Kathleen and saw
that she was sleeping comfortably before listening at the door
prior to opening it. The corridor outside seemed quiet.
'Good luck,’ said O'Neill.
Avedissian thought the corridor was never ending as he
tiptoed along it, scarcely daring to breathe. He was convinced
that, at any second, someone would come out from the duty
room at the end and start shooting. He passed the halfway
mark and could now see the room that he was making for. He kept his eyes fixed on it as he steeled himself for the final few
metres. He was inside it.
As O'Neill had predicted, there was enough light from the corridor to see things inside the room but he was uncomfortable with the fact that the door was wide open and gave it a
little push. It made a noise like a giant redwood about to fall.
Avedissian froze in fear but, after a few seconds, he could
hear that the muted sound of voices coming from the duty
room had not changed. He exhaled slowly and left the door
as it was.
The kettle was on the shelf above the sink where O'Neill
had said it would be. Avedissian took it down slowly and
carefully, avoiding any action that could give rise to noise,
and poured the contents of the pill box into it. He swirled the
powder around in the little water that lay in the bottom and
put the kettle back on the shelf with pained slowness.
Avedissian turned to leave the room but stopped when he heard the level of sound from across the corridor increase
suddenly. Someone was coming out and he would be
trapped! He stepped quickly back into the shadow behind the
room door and prayed. If someone came in and switched on
the light he was a dead man.
A short, broad man with a bull neck came into the room,
still engaged in conversation with those across the corridor.
He did not touch the light switch but took the kettle down
from the shelf and filled it under the tap. He was so close to
Avedissian that Avedissian thought he must smell his fear but
the man appeared to notice nothing amiss. He rattled the lid
on to the kettle at the second attempt and left the room.
Avedissian remained motionless for a few moments, still
partially paralysed by nightmare thoughts of how close he had come to dying but the fact that he had apparently got
away with it filtered through to him and restored his courage.
He ventured out into the corridor again and returned to
O'Neill and Kathleen.
O'Neill greeted him with an anxious look.
'It's done,' said Avedissian. 'Now we wait.'
'How long?'
Avedissian tried to guess how long it would take for the
kettle to boil, how long it would take the man to make and drink the tea, assuming they drank it at all for there was a
chance that they would be put off by the taste, and how long it would take for the drugs to act. He said, 'Better give them
thirty minutes to be on the safe side.' He suddenly had an awful thought. He looked down at the man on the floor and
said, 'Won't they miss him?'
As if in answer to Avedissian's question, the door at the
end of the passage opened and a voice called out, 'Liam! Tea's
ready!'
Avedissian and O'Neill were turned to stone. They waited
for the door to close again but it did not. Someone was
waiting for an answer! O'Neill stood up and faced the
opposite direction from the source of the shout. He called
out, 'Just comin" and then stopped breathing as he waited
for a reaction. The door at the end of the passage closed.